Chapter twelve Grady #2
I want to give them each what they need and deserve—someone to trust if they fall, because falling in life is inevitable, and I refuse to let them feel like they’re alone anymore.
***
Sitting in my recliner, flipping through the pages of my third book about pregnancy and becoming a father, I listen to this week’s MLB highlights in the background, stifling a yawn.
It’s crazy to think there was a time when I was on that television, my face plastered on the screen during these same highlights.
Now, I’m coaching kids who have no idea how much work and determination it takes to get to that point and preparing to be a father, while the woman carrying my baby is pretending she doesn’t have feelings for me.
My, how things have changed.
The conversation at Catch & Release between me and the Sheppard boys keeps playing on repeat in my head.
When Dallas said he feared his brother wouldn’t trust another woman again, it made me realize that I had been walking around feeling the same way—that is until Scottie walked back into my life.
That’s how I know that fighting for her is worth it.
She’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted to fight for, so I’ve spent the entire day thinking about how I can help her see that she doesn’t need to fear the future we could share. She just has to give us a shot.
My phone vibrates on the coffee table, and when I see who the text message is from, a lightning bolt of adrenaline races through me. I close the book, set it on the table, and pick up my phone to read the message.
Scottie: Does that offer to fulfill my cravings still stand?
I sit up in my chair eagerly, holding my phone between my knees as I type out my response.
Me: Absolutely. What do you need?
Scottie: An orange popsicle.
Me: That’s very specific.
Scottie: No commentary needed. Can you bring me a box or not?
Me: Your wish is my command, babe. Be there soon.
I launch from my chair, change into a pair of clean jeans, slap a ball cap on my head, grab my keys, and head for the grocery store. Scottie’s request tells me she’s letting me in, albeit in a small way, but still. I’ll take it.
I race through the store to the freezer section and grab the first box of orange popsicles I see—the classic Big Stick variety, a favorite I remember from the days of chasing down the ice cream truck in my neighborhood.
I pay for the treats and then try not to speed as I cross town and pull into Scottie’s driveway.
The curtains on her mother’s front window move, drawing my attention over there as I get out of my truck. I’m sure her mom knows about our situation, but I’m curious what her thoughts are and wonder if maybe she can talk some sense into her daughter.
One obstacle at a time, Grady.
As I knock on Scottie’s door, the bag rustles in my hand, stirred by the breeze sweeping across the front porch. The door swings open, and there’s Scottie, stealing the breath from my lungs and making my dick ache, longing to show her just what she does to him.
She’s fresh from the shower, wearing an oversized gray t-shirt and navy sleep shorts, with her hair wrapped in a towel. Her skin is glowing, her feet are bare, her toenails painted a soft yellow, and I can see her small bump just underneath her shirt.
Mine.
“Special delivery for Scottie Daniels,” I announce, holding up the bag. She motions for me to come in while I simultaneously will my dick to calm down.
A heavy sigh of relief escapes her as she smiles.
“Thank you, Grady. I can’t explain why these sounded so good, but when my brain locked onto these, I couldn’t think of anything else.
” I follow her into the kitchen, and she takes the bag from me, setting it on the counter.
“When I was pregnant with Chase I had the same craving. Maybe it means I’m having another boy. ”
“That might be true, but all the books say every pregnancy is different.” She takes the box of popsicles out of the bag and her face falls. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
Her eyes stay locked on the box of Big Sticks for so long that I’m afraid she’s fallen asleep with her eyes open. But when they finally meet mine, they’re full of tears. I react immediately, closing the distance between us. “Shit, Scottie. Are you okay?”
She brushes a tear away. “Um, yeah. I just…”
“What?”
“These aren’t the ones I wanted,” she cries, sobbing into her hands, falling apart right in front of me.
I have no idea what to do in this moment except pull her into my chest. “Fuck. I’m—I’m sorry.”
Her words are muffled as she buries her head in my chest. “I wanted the ones with the two sticks, you know?” She pushes back from me, gesturing with her hands as if holding a popsicle with two sticks. Tears flow down her cheeks and snot drips from her nose.
“Why didn’t you say that?” I ask, bewildered by the intensity of her reaction.
“You should have just known!” she yells back at me, shocking me. “You’re supposed to know!”
I hold my hands up in surrender, not sure what else I’m supposed to do. Here I was thinking I was saving the day, being of use like I told her I wanted to be, but I wasn’t prepared for this reaction. “Scottie…”
She stands there, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I just…”
I pull her gently back into my arms. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I murmur.
Before she can say anything else, I decide that maybe a distraction is what she needs.
So that’s what I give her. I tip her chin up so I can look into her tear-filled eyes, and then I slant my mouth over hers, swallowing her gasp.
But then, without a moment’s hesitation, she wraps her arms around my neck and meets my tongue thrust for thrust, moaning and burying her hands in my hair, knocking my hat off my head in the process.
I back her up into the fridge, knocking something off the top of it, but it doesn’t faze us.
My cock presses against my jeans, begging to be let free just as I reach down and pick up her leg, wrapping it around my waist. She pushes her pussy against my cock, rubbing herself along every inch of me she can reach as we grasp for one another, with so much tension and need in the kiss that it feels like we couldn’t have stopped this if we tried.
It’s magnetic, this pull between us. We’re two polar opposites that have no choice but to be drawn toward one another. But as soon as I run my hand up the inside of her thigh, wanting to feel her and make her come more than my next breath, she shoves me away, both of our chests heaving.
“Scottie…”
Her hand comes up to her mouth, covering it as her wide eyes stare up at me. “What the hell, Grady?” Her next words come out as a whisper, while my heart hammers so wildly that I can hear it in my ears. “Why did you do that?”
“I didn’t know how else to calm you down,” I admit, even though kissing her felt instinctual, just like taking care of her does.
Her voice is shaky. “You—you shouldn’t have done that.”
“It didn’t seem to bother you while you were kissing me back,” I counter, which was a very bad idea.
Her eyes narrow into slits, but before she can fire something back at me, Chase rounds the corner. His eyes dart between us, picking up on the intensity as we stand just a few feet apart.
“I heard a noise and came out here to see what was going on,” he says. “Is everything okay?”
I turn away from him, grabbing my hat from the floor while trying to hide the erection still pressing against my pants. Scottie rips the towel from her head, tossing it onto the counter before wiping under her eyes where tear streaks still glisten in the florescent lights.
“I’m fine,” she says, plastering a fake-as-shit smile on her face.
“Why are you crying, Mom?”
“I brought the wrong damn popsicles,” I grumble, looking over my shoulder at Chase, who is growing more concerned by the minute.
“Popsicles?”
“Yeah,” Scottie manages to say, finding her voice again. “But it’s okay. The baby just wanted a specific kind…”
Chase rolls his eyes. “Another man making her cry. Doesn’t surprise me.”
“Hey!” Scottie snaps, chastising her son.
“You’re pregnant with his kid and he’s making you cry!” Chase points accusingly at me. “Not a good sign, Mom.”
“Chase Matthew!”
If I wasn’t so thrown off right now, I’d say something to defend myself. But ultimately, there’s only one way to fix this. I turn back around now that my dick has calmed down and grab my keys from my pocket. “I’ll be right back.”
“Grady!” Scottie calls out to me, but I’m already heading out the door, needing some space to clear my head.
“I’ll be back with the right popsicles, Scottie,” I say, closing the door behind me. I fix my ball cap as I walk back to my truck, wondering how the fuck one simple errand turned into attacking this woman with my mouth and wishing I could do it again.
By the time I return with the correct popsicles, it’s after nine. Scottie opens the door, her expression guarded as I step inside. She doesn’t even bother opening the bag I hand her.
We just stare at each other across the island, waiting for the other person to speak first. Luckily, she breaks first. “I’m sorry, Grady.”
“No, I am.” I blow out a breath, tossing my hat onto the counter beside the bag. “When the cashier noticed I was back again for more popsicles, she said next time I should send you a picture to make sure it’s exactly what you want. Apparently, it’s a very common first-time-dad mistake.”
A small smile graces her lips. “I’m sure. But my reaction was a little…”
I raise my hand to stop her. “You’re fine, Scottie. I told you that I’d never let you down, and I did, so all I was trying to do was fix it.”
She bites her bottom lip, uncertainty in her eyes. “I don’t usually cry over popsicles, Grady. It’s just the hormones, and my heart was set on the ones with the two sticks.” She holds up two fingers like a peace sign. “It really wasn’t a big deal, but in the moment, it felt like it was.”