Chapter 20 Everly
EVERLY
Twisting to the side, I snuggle with my pillow, dreaming of an enormous ice cream fountain, with a waterfall and surrounded by waffle rafts.
A hill of cookie dough turns into a roasting marshmallow, but I don’t care that I’m going to get all sticky from it.
I’m just so comfortable in this fluffy nest of sweetness.
Strange though, the marshmallow lifts and lowers rhythmically, slowly, as if it inhales and exhales. I didn’t know they could breathe.
I somehow surface into consciousness and open my eyes.
The scent of fresh split wood and the northern forests fills my nose and my fingers grip the sheet. Jersey cotton sheets? The curtains on one window are open. The other one blocks the faint brush of gray morning light.
Grey! I fell asleep in his arms. I’m clutching his T-shirt. It’s the next day. Panic seizes me, but if I move, I might wake the sleeping giant. The beast. The Hulk.
When I think about how he Hulked out on Todd, I have to admit I feel a tiny bit of satisfaction. Okay, a whole busload of kids sticking their tongues out and saying, Nanny, nanny, poo, poo at my ex.
The fact that he came here and said things that suggested he’s been watching me and wants me back for purely corporate ladder-climbing purposes knots my stomach.
I’ll admit that I feel vulnerable. It’s not like Todd is going to suck my blood—he didn’t say that, but I certainly feel like it’s something he could do.
Nor does he actually have a sticky web to wrap me in and leave me in his lair for later.
Rather, he lacks scruples, is power-crazed, and probably could use treatment for narcissism.
As always, I pray for him...and for me to know what to do.
How to handle this situation, which is a lot less pleasant than the kissituation.
This reminds me that now I have another problem.
I practically cried myself to sleep in Grey’s suite, in his arms. Which are still wrapped around me.
Not going to lie, they’re kind of heavy, but it’s a pleasant weight, like one of those soothing blankets I saw advertised on an infomercial during the many nights I couldn’t so much as get five winks when I was staying at Heidi’s.
I’m pretty sure this breaks Marriage of Convenience Club rules, along with Blancbourg rules.
But I can inhale fully, deeply, dreamily. Grey loosened the tightness that’s usually present in my chest. He stood up for me when no one else has. I don’t know what Todd has planned, but I have someone on my team. A big someone.
I study his hands, palms calloused, nails trimmed, but one looks like it was torn.
Though I don’t see any evidence that he bites them.
His knuckles are huge. Wrists too. With my face pressed against his chest, I hear the steady thrum, thrum of his heart.
I can only imagine how big and strong it is.
His lungs, too, as they slowly expand and contract.
In college, I visited the forests in the northwest of the United States and couldn’t wrap my head around how the sequoia trees grew so big—I also couldn’t wrap my arms around the trunks. Though I do have a photo of me trying to hug the tree.
Grey is like that, too. I don’t know what made him so grumpy and grouchy, but I think he needs a hug. I don’t dare move, though, because I might burst this little happiness bubble. Instead, in my mind’s eye, I sketch the two of us hugging. I’ll put pencil to paper later.
What I’d rather he not see is how puffy my eyes are sure to be from crying last night. I’m also jittery like I’ve had too much caffeine, even though I haven’t so much as said good morning to a cup of coffee.
Grey grunts...yes, even in his sleep. Or maybe that’s a signal that he’s awake. I crane my head up slightly, taking a peek.
His lashes rest on his cheeks and his expression is serene, not stony. But then his grip on me changes and he shifts slightly before blinking a few times as if bringing me into focus.
I tuck my head and keep my arm around him.
“Good morning.” I’m as perky as ever—my college roommates never understood how I could go from a sound sleep to being perfectly awake while they were groggy until they met their daily requirements for caffeine, pancakes, and showers.
“Morning.” Grey’s voice is rough.
He picks his hands up as though trying to figure out how we got into this tangle with him, halfway reclined on the sofa and me tucked in under his arm with his other wrapped around me. Mine lace underneath, but just like with those huge trees, I can’t clasp my fingers.
“I like it here,” I whisper before getting up and running toward the door.
“Everly,” Grey calls.
I pause, afraid for him to see my smile.
“Good morning,” he says as if correcting himself.
Maybe it will be a good morning.
I traveled a bit as a child, but usually in the company of a nanny and never in first class.
That was reserved for my father—if he flew commercial.
In recent years, that’s rarer for the man who his enemies and friends alike call the Ice King.
Hungry for wealth and success, he’s grown richer and richer.
Apparently, Todd wants a few chips off that block and will do anything, including marry me, to get it.
All I have to offer is cookie dough, folks, so unless you want a scoop, move right along!
During our short time together, the only trips Todd and I took were by car and never fun—it was all hoity-toity sites and events for business deals.
If the hosts saw me in my most recent outfits, I would’ve been denied entry.
Then again, I could’ve explored someplace off the beaten path, which, let’s face it, is more my speed.
My father once said he and my mother were opposites.
He also commented that I’m a lot like her.
I take that to mean I get my carefree, winsome personality from Mrs. Ice King, aka the hockey fan sweetheart, who swept my father off his feet—supposedly, she scored a goal on him during a charity event and the rest was history.
Seated beside Grey in the spacious leather seat with ample foot room, and the VIP service with warm towels to freshen up, drinks, and snacks makes me understand the lure. It’s a far cry from my last flight, wedged between the window and the Manimal.
Still, I can’t help but feel slightly guilty. “I could’ve just sat back there with the rest of the villagers,” I say, thumbing over my shoulder.
Grey pockets his phone and stretches out his legs. “If you haven’t noticed, I won’t exactly fit comfortably back there.”
“No, I meant me. I could sit in economy to save money.” Because I’m all about the budget these days and Cate purchased regular tickets for all of us coaches. Grey got me the upgrade.
He blinks slowly at me as though I don’t understand something obvious. “Life is short. Enjoy comfort when you can.”
“Wise words coming from someone who takes his life entirely too seriously.”
“You do realize you’re talking to one-quarter of the #BruiserButt scandal.”
My eyes bulge. “So you’re admitting that you have a playful side?”
A lopsided grin traces its way across Grey’s lips. “I’m not denying it.”
“Prove it. Dixie Davis, the country star, is seated two seats ahead. Go ask her about her dogs.”
“What if she doesn’t have dogs?”
“Trust me. She does.”
“Why would I want to know about her dogs?”
“Ask her and you’ll find out. Maybe even make a new friend.”
“Maybe I don’t want a new friend.”
“That’s a problem.”
“What if she asks me about my #BruiserButt?”
A belly laugh grows inside. I try to restrain it, but there’s no stopping the tsunami of laughter that pours out of me.
A few people turn their heads as I shake in my seat, trying to laugh as quietly as I can.
“If I go ask Dixie Davis about her dogs, will you stop laughing?”
“Can’t make any promises. Oh, and be sure to offer her a cookie recipe.” I wink, but it’s more of a twitching eye movement because I can’t stop the hysterics.
Grey gets to his feet under the guise of having to use the bathroom. I’ve been to Dixie’s house in Tennessee. She’s my friend Mila’s grandma. Todd cut her out of my life and I should reach out and catch up. Dixie is a born entertainer, on top of being a singer and dog lover.
Before he goes on to have the best conversation of his life, he says, “Oh, and you’re not going anywhere. We fly together.”
Since the incident the night before with Todd, he’s become undeniably protective. It’s like I have my own bodyguard. Cue the lights and music because this feels like the beginning of a movie—or a dream, though I have to admit there is nothing soft or marshmallow-like about Greyson Adams.
He’s all hard muscle and observant eyes like he doesn’t miss a trick, and if he did, it would hit the cement wall of his muscles.
Todd’s sudden appearance and threats shook me up, but his behavior isn’t entirely surprising. Early on, I saw glimpses of his jealous side, but it wasn’t until after our almost-wedding that I realized I was mistaken. I was witnessing envy.
The flight attendant advises passengers to power down our phones for takeoff. I would’ve preferred to leave mine in Concordia altogether. I’m one text or voicemail away from blocking Todd’s number, though thankfully, I haven’t heard from him—or his lawyers—since before the incident yesterday.
Grey comes back with a smile. “Snickerdoodles?”
“The dog or the cookie?”
He lifts his hands and shrugs, but then his eyes crinkle at the corners as if he belatedly understood something from his brief convo with Dixie.
After he lowers into the seat, he nudges me with his elbow. He must’ve glimpsed the name attached to the latest text message. Todd seesaws between trying to sweet-talk me and threatening me, but that’s hardly anything new.
“Any of those from Todd?” Grey asks.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not proud of the mistakes I made and the way Todd can make me feel about the size of an ant.”
Grey’s eyes float over me with warmth, understanding, and not the judgment I expect—not that Heidi or any of my other friends ruled me guilty of ruining my life, but my father sure did.
“Do you know much about ants?” Grey asks.
My brow furrows. “That’s an odd question, but no. Not really.”
“They might be small, but they’re mighty. Cool fact number one,” Grey says. “There are over ten thousand kinds of ants.”
“I guess that’s cool.”
“That means if you feel the size of an ant, you’re in good company. There are a lot of you and there’s power in numbers.” His low, rough voice plows through the words.
My lips quirk with amusement.
“Cool fact number two.” He counts on his fingers. “The creature with the most painful sting in the world is an ant. Fact three, there’s another species that’s the fastest.”
“So, they’re strong.”
“I haven’t even gotten to number four. Ants are the strongest. Relative to size, they can lift over fifty times their body weight.”
“They’re powerful and strong.” The corner of my lip lifts because, for all his grumpy, gruff girth, I realize that Grey was once a kid—probably fascinated by all things creepy and crawly.
He nods. “And number five. Ants don’t have ears.”
“How is that cool?”
“They don’t have to listen to nonsense spewed by some loser who thinks you’re small when they’re actually powerful and strong. You’re powerful and strong, Buttercup.”
Grey’s meaning rushes at me and I lean back in my seat. My look of amusement grows into an unexpected, perplexing smile.
“That’s better.”
I snort a laugh. “You surprise me in so many ways.”
He’s too big to fit in a coach seat. His muscles flex under his shirt like he hides boulders under there. However, deep inside, there is a softness and understanding I never expected or experienced from a man.
“Thanks for that,” I say.
His eyes flash, reminding me that he’s a dangerous gentleman.
I like it. A lot.
He says, “Don’t mention it.”