Chapter Twenty-Three #3
Grier ducked her head to look into Tobin’s eyes. She felt hazy and disoriented from the panic attack, but Grier’s warm, amber eyes grounded her.
“There you are,” Grier whispered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Tobin’s ear. “You’re safe, Tobin.”
She didn’t think she could speak—her throat was raw from the hyperventilation—but she bent her head forward to connect her forehead to Grier’s, hoping it would communicate all the unspoken things she couldn’t give voice to in the moment.
Grier waited until her breathing normalized before slipping out of the tub and grabbing some towels from the hook on the wall.
Wordlessly, Tobin rose from the water, steadying herself with Grier’s hand, weak from the adrenaline rush of the anxiety attack.
She let Grier wrap her in a towel, pat her dry, and lead her into the bedroom.
Grier tucked her under the covers, then climbed in on the other side, opening her arms in invitation. Tobin curled into her.
She came to slowly, orienting herself to the rhythm of Grier’s now-familiar heartbeat. She felt Grier’s fingertips dancing along her skin, like they were reading the Braille of her life’s veiled story—laid bare, and vulnerable, and so completely broken.
“We don’t have to talk about it tonight,” Grier said softly, still stroking her arm, “but there are things we can do; there are things I can do. You don’t have to give up your dreams because of one bad appointment. Not without a fight.”
Tobin held her breath. How on earth did Grier think any of this was salvageable? “What do you mean?”
“There are so many instances of acupuncture and supplements aiding fertility treatments. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up before. I—I didn’t want to overstep or insert myself when we were so new.” Grier sighed. “But I see now that was a mistake.”
“You can really help? You—you would?” Tobin whispered into Grier’s skin.
“Of course, I would, Tobin! I…” Grier stopped, thinking. Her hands stilled their roaming. “I would do anything for you. Frankly, I’m a little hurt that you haven’t figured that out yet.”
Tobin’s body buzzed with Grier’s admission. She lifted her head off her chest and searched for her eyes in the dusk-darkened room. “You—you’re incredible,” she whispered.
“So you’ve said,” Grier sounded exasperated, but Tobin watched as the corners of her mouth twitched into a smirk. “But I still want to hear it.”
Tobin reached up, placing the palm of her hand against Grier’s cheek, and stared into the warm amber irises she’d come to love.
She felt Grier’s eyes searching her own.
She didn’t have words to name all of the emotions she was feeling today, but she knew she no longer had to.
She just had to feel them—and together, they’d sort them out.
It was a heavy and relieving kind of knowledge, this feeling of no longer being alone.
Grier closed her eyes and leaned down to place a gentle, unhurried kiss on Tobin’s mouth. It warmed her all the way to her toes.
“Now, we need to get you fed, or your body is going to seriously hate you when we wake up.” Grier’s voice was adamant as she moved beneath Tobin, shimmying out of the bed.
“We wake up?” Tobin spoke before she thought. It was a weeknight; Grier had never slept over on a weeknight before.
“Yes, we. I’m spending the night. I’m not letting you sleep alone after the day you’ve had.
” Grier acted nonchalant, but Tobin read a hint of hesitation in her posture.
“Besides, you’ve been talking about how poorly you’ve been sleeping.
I brought some magnesium lotion with me.
I want to put you to bed with a magnesium massage.
Best night of sleep you’ll ever have. I promise. ”
Tobin rose and dressed, lost in her thoughts.
She was finding it increasingly difficult to control her feelings for Grier.
How could she, when Grier was being so… Grier?
Showing up to fight with her, stripping and stepping unflinchingly into a hell bath, holding her through a panic attack, and patiently coaxing her back to the present—the woman was a force of nature, and Tobin was starting to feel like she wanted to be stormed.
It should have been awkward, having Grier prepare her food in her own kitchen.
But it was oddly soothing, relinquishing control.
After Grier heated some frozen soups and forced her to hydrate, she brought her back upstairs, undressed her, and gently tucked her into bed.
She massaged luxurious magnesium lotion over every inch of Tobin’s body, giving extra attention to her neck, lower back, and feet.
When she was done, Grier undressed and slid into bed next to her, holding Tobin and reminding her that she was not alone.
The last thing Tobin remembered before surrendering to the blissful void of sleep was Grier’s soft, soothing voice: “Let’s enjoy our trip to your grandmother’s for the Fourth of July.
Just take some time to relax and forget the rest of the world.
Then we will figure everything out. Together. Sleep now, Tobin. I’m here.”
“You know,” Grier crooned into Tobin’s ear, wrapping her arms around her from behind. They were stealing a moment alone in LoLo’s kitchen while everyone else busied themselves with preparations for their annual Fourth of July festivities.
“I know what you were doing when you dressed yourself this morning,” she continued, the heat of her breath grazing the back of Tobin’s neck and making her shiver. “It is wildly unfair of you to tease me like this.”
Tobin felt Grier’s hands start to wander, sneaking beneath the hem of her fitted white tank top, sending an instant pang of arousal straight to her core.
She had chosen this outfit deliberately.
She knew her bright red bra would show through the sheer cotton, drawing Grier’s eyes to her chest all day.
She didn’t have the ample cleavage Grier boasted, but what she did have, she was proud of—and this bra perfectly plumped her breasts over the low-cut neckline of the tank.
Red, white, and breast—you couldn’t get much more patriotic than that.
She practically purred as Grier’s lips brushed the back of her neck and slowly—lazily—roamed their way to her earlobe, where Grier flicked her tongue before nibbling along Tobin’s pulse.
“Now I have to look at you in a state of half-dress for the rest of the day, with no way to relieve my… fantasies.”
Tobin chuckled, turning her head to capture Grier’s eager mouth. She hummed against her lips. “That was the point, Cinderella. Payback for Pride.”
Grier had knocked the wind out of her at the parade, showing up in a pink-and-orange ombré two-piece jumpsuit.
The shirt was a mock neck, sleeveless on one side, with a keyhole cutout on the other.
It was cropped—ending just below her ribs—and showcased her toned, tanned abdomen.
But the crowning glory was the sheer mesh fabric, revealing a white lace bralette underneath.
Tobin couldn’t recall another ensemble that had highlighted Grier’s shoulders more perfectly—but it was the bra that had done unseemly things to her libido all day long.
The parade float had been a success; every rescue dog had been adopted by the end of the event.
They’d even received several volunteer applications.
The camps Grier had suggested were fully enrolled, and Anchor had added a fourth session just before school resumed in September.
Money was coming in, and Tobin recognized the return of Anchor’s lighthearted demeanor.
Their fundraiser at Vinny’s was scheduled near the end of July, with volunteers and camp kids slinging pizzas and root beer floats to the crowds.
“Would you two cut it out? Didn’t you get enough of each other last night… and this morning?” Harrow chided, walking into the kitchen with some potatoes from the garden cellar and forcing them to break their all-too-brief kiss. Tobin sighed at the loss of contact.
“We really have to get you some better noise-canceling headphones,” Grier said with a shit-eating grin, pecking a final kiss on Tobin’s cheek before disentangling her arms and resting an affectionate hand at the small of Tobin’s back.
“You can sleep at my place anytime you need, Harrow. You know I like it quiet.” Eddie quipped, entering the kitchen with the cellar items LoLo had asked her to retrieve. She joined the banter with a smug grin that radiated affection Tobin knew was reserved only for her—and sometimes Harrow.
“There’s a lot of standing around and talking and not a lot of action happening in this kitchen,” LoLo scolded, joining them with arms full of baking pans and mixing bowls, her trademark apron hugging her hips and her hair barely holding its place in the fraying knot atop her head.
“There was some action happening just a minute ago,” Harrow stage-whispered conspiratorially.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Harrow,” Tobin retorted. She saw Grier’s face go pink with embarrassment, an insecure smile brightening when Tobin offered her a comforting wink.
Eddie let out an amused snort from her corner of the kitchen and sat at the table to await further instructions from LoLo.
“How can I help? Put me to work, Elodie,” Grier said next to her, tucking a few loose strands of her braid behind her ear.
Tobin marveled at Grier—at her ability to effortlessly slip into place wherever she was.
She hadn’t been worried about Grier’s ability to blend in with her family, but she had been…
curious. She’d been risking stolen glimpses at Grier since they arrived, just absorbing the way she moved and interacted with her family.
There wasn’t a hint of insecurity in her movements—no, Grier was genuine and confident, like she belonged.