Chapter Thirty Grace
Thirty
Grace
Grace lay in bed with Reese an hour later, watching him stare out at the foggy moonlit treetops like they held the secrets of the universe.
“Is it just me,” he whispered against her skin, “or is that fog starting to lift?”
“It is,” Grace said, “and I’m thinking that we should probably talk about what happens next.”
Reese’s expression did that thing where it shuttered. Like someone had pulled down blinds behind his eyes. “We could do that.”
“Or?”
“Or we could enjoy the fog while it’s still here.” He pressed the length of his body against her. “Deal with reality later.”
“Reality,” Grace said with a sigh. “Ergh.”
“I just realized something. I don’t know where you live. In town, I assume?”
Grace stiffened slightly against him. “Above the café. Small flat. Two bedrooms, one bathroom.”
“How long have you been there?”
“Since Zach’s idiot of a dad left. I couldn’t afford the house we’d been renting without his wages. So Mom offered me the flat above Blossoms & Brew. Was supposed to be temporary but it’s been twelve years and counting.”
“Do you like it there?”
Grace sighed. “It’s not terrible. Obviously rent’s below market because Mom owns the building.”
“Sounds like she’s doing you a solid.”
“Is she?” Grace shifted to look at him. “Or is it convenient? She gets a reliable tenant who won’t complain, I get affordable housing and we’re close enough that she can pop up whenever she wants. Win-win, right?”
Reese shuddered. “Christ, the thought of my ma being able to let herself into wherever I’m living…”
“Exactly.”
“You could move,” Reese said carefully.
Grace turned to look at him, eyebrow raised.
“That’s the plan. Did you miss the part where I’m scraping together every penny to buy this inn?
The annex out back is four times the size of my apartment.
It’ll be ideal for me and Zach. Not big, not fancy.
Just…ours. A place where we could close the door and nobody else has a key.
Where Zach could have friends over without me getting in the way.
” Her voice caught. “Somewhere that feels like home instead of just a place I sleep.”
“You’ll have it,” he said quietly.
“What?”
Reese pulled her back against him, kissed her neck. “That annex? You’ll get it. Hell, you can have the whole damn place, far as I’m concerned.”
“Reese, do you realize what you’re—”
“I do.” He kissed her. “We can talk about it properly tomorrow. But first, more wine?”
Over the next couple of hours, they finished the wine. Then found another bottle. Then possibly a third. Grace lost count somewhere around the point where Reese was telling her about a disastrous business meeting in Tokyo and she was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe.
“I’m drunk,” she announced.
“Same here.” Reese was sprawled on the bed, naked apart from the vintage tie he’d found, looking deliciously rumpled.
“We should probably sleep. It’s two in the morning.”
“Probably.” Neither of them moved.
Grace rolled onto her side to look at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why did you really want this inn? Like, really really. Because it’s different from your other purchases.”
Reese’s expression flickered—just for a second—and Grace saw something there. Something he wasn’t saying.
“It’s complicated,” he said finally.
“Everything with you is complicated.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“It’s an observation.” Grace reached out, traced the line of his stubbled jaw. “You’re very mysterious, you know that?”
“I’m an open book.”
“You’re a locked vault with the combination hidden in another vault.”
Reese caught her hand, brought it to his lips. “Maybe you just haven’t figured out the right questions to ask.”
“Okay. Here’s a question.” The wine made her bold. “What do you want? From me? From us?”
That wolfish look again, sharper this time. “You sure you want that answer?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
Reese pulled her on top of him, hands sliding up her thighs. “I want to play a game.”
“We just played Monopoly—”
“A different kind of game. A game where I give all the commands. A game that allows you to let go.”
Grace froze.
Wait.
Wait a minute.
Those words. That exact phrasing. WildTrailGuide had said that. Word for word. Two nights ago when they’d been messaging and he’d—
No.
No, that was impossible.
Grace’s brain scrambled, pulling up memories like evidence. The typing style. The direct commands. The way WildTrailGuide talked about business and ambition and—
Competitiveness isn’t a character flaw. It’s a resource.
Reese had said almost the same thing last night. About being hungrier than everyone else.
When I’m inside you, I want you desperate for it.
The same dominant edge. The same absolute certainty.
Oh God.
Was Reese WildTrailGuide?
“Grace?” Reese asked, a look of concern on his face. “You all right there?”
“What did you just say?”
“I asked if you’re okay? What’s going on?”
“No, before that.”
“I said I have an idea for a game—”
“No. The exact words. Say them again.”
He frowned. “A game where I give all the commands. A game that allows you to let go.”
“You say this to all your online girlfriends?”
“Online? I don’t understand.”
“Are you WildTrailGuide?”
Reese’s face drained of color.