Maisie #3
Grayson’s hand finds mine, and he holds it tight, like it might vanish right before him.
I’m not sure why I just spilled all my life secrets.
I’m not even sure I truly answered his question, but for whatever reason, he just got more out of me than all my therapists combined.
It takes a certain type of person for me to open up to.
Apparently, that rare breed is Grayson Miles.
Grayson only murmurs three little words, but it’s all I need to hear. “I see you.” His thumb strokes over the back of my hand, and it’s the most comfort I’ve received in a long time. It’s everything to me.
People love to say women are complicated, but all we truly yearn for is to be understood, to know our struggles are valid and that we aren’t alone in them. The world is a large, scary place, and it’s nice to know there are others out there too.
“Your turn,” he whispers, looking me in the eyes with a paralyzing intensity.
How do I follow up that question? There are so many things I yearn to learn about Grayson. He’s a closed book on a good day. I don’t want to pry into his life too hard, so I go with the first thing that pops into my head.
“How did you end up at the Foxes?”
His hand retreats, but, surprisingly, he doesn’t close me out.
There’s even a faint smile on his lips, like he’s thinking back on an old memory.
“Funny enough, I found them on a Craigslist ad. They needed an extra hand on the ranch, and, at the time, I needed anything that would take us away from home.”
Us: him and Laine. I nod, not pushing him to spill more than he wants. I’m the one who reaches out this time, gripping his large hand while continuing to play with the flower in my other.
His hand tightens, and he turns his head, looking out at the trees on the other side of the creek.
“My parents, well, they weren’t good people.
Fuck, they were terrible, actually. Drug addicts who were more worried with finding their next hit over our next meal.
The deeper they spiraled, the worse it got.
” He clears his throat. “They…they would—” He rubs the back of his neck, absentmindedly pulling the hair at the nape.
I want to reach out and gently make him stop.
“You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to,” I assure him, thumb stroking his hand.
He shakes the memories away. “The court finally stepped in and placed me and Laine in our grandparents' care. They were old, though, and, soon enough, they were both dead, and, well, we were still just kids. Luckily, I was about to turn eighteen, so we were able to live out of my car under the court’s radar until then, and I applied to be Laine’s legal guardian on my birthday.
That’s when I found the Craigslist ad, and we’ve been here nine years now.
We grew up in Texas, and I was always helping at the local ranches, trying to earn extra cash to feed us, so I knew it was something I was capable of.
I used all the money I saved to take a bus across the country with Laine to get here.
The Foxes took us in as their own, and the rest is history, I guess. ”
His eyes have a sheen when he finally looks back at me. “I owe my whole life to the Foxes. I know I will never be able to repay them, but I’ll do my damndest to try.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, wiping away yet another tear. It seems something’s in the air today. “Yeah,” I breathe, “I know the feeling. I’m so sorry, but I’m glad you found them.”
He looks like he wants to say something, maybe do something, but he’s frozen. The empath in me wants to take his pain away and replace it with something softer.
“So I nailed it on the head with being too busy on the ranch to have a girlfriend then,” I tease, and then my eyes blow wide. “Wait…. You’re not a virgin, are you?”
And there it is, that gorgeous smile of his.
He groans, running his hand down his face, but the smile stays put. “Did you not hear what I said earlier, honey?”
I shoot him innocent eyes, blinking up at him. “Hmmm, nope. You might have to remind me.”
A fire ignites behind his eyes. I wet my lips, drawing his eyes to my mouth. He inches closer, our lips almost brushing. I hold my breath. “I can promise you, I’m far from an inexperienced virgin. I’m more into showing than telling, though.”
Oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This is dangerous territory. That doesn’t stop me from leaning in a little closer, though. “Is that right?” I purr.
Goddamit, Maisie.
“Mhmmm,” he groans under his breath, his nose nudging mine.
We share breaths, and I can practically taste the sexual tension.
I’ve liked men, sure. Been attracted to them, of course.
Even loved them, in a I like you and I’m comfortable being around you kind of way.
And I was okay with that—up until now at least. But this? This is fucking terrifying.
Grayson’s different in every sense. He isn’t safe—he’s the bold choice. The choice that brings me the most reward. A scary dream to fall for but the one that makes all my insecurities and trauma melt away. Grayson is playing chess while Carl was playing checkers.
I can’t do this. I’m leaving soon. I have a whole life away from here, big dreams I’ve wanted since I was a little girl.
We both have a luggage full of trauma, it seems, and live two completely different lives.
He has his life here on the ranch with Laine and Nova, and I have mine in New York with… well, my job and…my cat.
We can’t take our eyes off each other. Of course he smells like a wet dream, making it next to impossible to pull away. I’m starting to forget why it was such a bad idea to kiss him the longer we sit here, lips a hair's breadth apart.
His hitched breath has his lip nudging mine. One brush of my tongue, and I could taste him, learn exactly what his sinful mouth tastes like. Probably hell and heaven combined, knowing him.
I can tell he’s just as lost in this pull as I am. He’s been very clear with me he isn’t on the market, a bright red, light-up sign that says STAY AWAY, but he looks like he wants to kiss me too. It’s maddening.
Maybe he just wants to have a little fun? Somehow, in a short amount of time, I’ve realized I might be interested in more than that. I’m not sure exactly what, but I want more than just one stolen kiss on a hidden dock.
My eye catches on the bruise blooming over his eyebrow, and that’s enough to snap me out of it.
I can’t do this. This man has secrets and is not interested in a relationship.
He’s told me so many times over. It’s only now dawned on me that I may have clung to the first thing that brought me any semblance of attention, yet again.
In typical Maisie fashion, I clung like a newborn babe to a mother.
How stupid can I be?
I turn away and gather my journal in a rush. “Sorry, I just, uhh…I remembered I left… a pie…in my oven. I have to go,” I rush out. I get up, but a large hand on my arm halts me.
Confused eyes find me, maybe laced with disappointment? That can’t be. “You’re telling me you had time to make a pie this morning after waking up hungover from a late night of drinking? What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Mais?”
Mais? A fucking nickname. This is too much.
“I can’t let the cabin burn down. Chesney will never let it go if I do,” I try to joke, but it falls flat. Grayson can see right through my lies, but I can’t stay here and continue this. My heart can’t take it. I’m leaving in just weeks.
“I’ll see you around, Grayson.” I shoot him a half smile and rush back to my cabin like a coward.
Research notes: cowboys have obnoxiously big hearts.