I’m dizzy and seeing stars, but his handsome face flickers into focus. Grady wipes the back of a hand over his mouth, those emerald pools glittering with more temptation. I will my drained muscles to recuperate.
He sucks on his bottom lip. “Fucking divine. I’ll gladly eat you for every meal.”
I manage to cup his scruffy cheek. “I like the sound of that.”
His lips drift along my thigh. “Breakfast in bed is my new favorite.”
“You’re dirty.”
“Thanks to you. I get to have you on my tongue all day.”
“Oh, that sounds even better. My turn.” I try to tug him into me, but he resists. “C’mere, Gray.”
A swift shake of his head follows my demand.
I try again, pulling harder. He doesn’t budge. “Why? Where do you have to go?”
“Work.” His tone rings with finality.
If my body was cooperating, I’d spring up straight. “What? Didn’t you take more time off? You were just in a serious accident.”
He frowns at me. “I need the money, Sutt. Sitting around on my ass isn’t paying the bills.”
“But you need to heal.”
“Didn’t hear you complaining about my well-being five minutes ago.”
I glance away as fire singes my cheeks. “That’s different.”
He laughs. “Yeah, it’s a lot more fun fucking around with you. Wanna play hooky?”
That gives me pause. Posts need to be scheduled. I think about the invoices piling up. I’m sure there’s a stack of emails waiting for me. One of my clients is calling me at noon. I’m not sure where my phone is.
He must read the hesitation in my expression. “That’s what I thought.” Grady stands and the towel drops to his feet. He looms a foot away completely nude and apparently off-limits. I force myself upright for a decent view. It’s a solid consolation prize, quite literally.
Grady turns and struts to the dresser. His ass is firm, sculpted male perfection. I want to nibble on those muscular globes. He peeks over his shoulder, very much catching me in the fine act of ogling. A smirk kisses his lips.
“Naughty girl. Keep staring and I’ll never let you leave.”
I squirm at the invitation.
“You like that idea?” He palms his dick, giving the iron shaft a leisurely stroke.
I nod. “Need a hand?”
Grady shakes his head, that girthy length still disappearing into a tight fist. “I can handle it. You give me plenty of material.”
A pout sticks out my bottom lip. “Team effort?”
“Don’t be sad. You’ll get a turn.”
That gets my blood pumping hotter. “Oh really? When?”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Says who?”
“Me. We’re going on a date.”
A giddy pitter-patter takes flight in my belly. “Are you going to tell me where and when?”
Another shake of his head. “All you need to be ready for is a shitload of wooing.”
All argument dies on my tongue. Damn, I really loved the sound of that.
15
Grady
Happy something #103: Planning ahead for better days, no matter how stupid it seems.
I slide another plank into place and position the nail gun. The hydraulic pop-pop-pop that rapidly follows has become more of a distant hum. It’s been the same monotonous cycle all afternoon. Measure. Set. Nail. Repeat. I could’ve finished this section of flooring hours ago if my head was screwed on straight.
There isn’t a lot I can claim to be good at and reliable for, but my work ethic is solid. Doing a job well gives me a boost of pride. I don’t slack off or put in half-assed effort. My reputation is tarnished enough. More slams against me will land my ass in the unemployment line. That won’t pay the bills I have piling up on my counter. Yet I don’t reach for another piece of glossy oak. A small breather won’t derail me much further.
The rubber mallet bounces off the wood beside me. I wipe at the trail of sweat that’s dripping down my temple. It’s hotter than Hades in this house, even with all the windows open. The owner is paying us to renovate so he can flip this place for a nice profit. Air conditioning is out of the question. Cutting time is the priority, not our comfort while doing it.
Speaking of, seconds have never ticked by so damn slow. If time speeds up while having fun, that leaves hours to drag while nothing is happening. Here I sit with my head spinning in a thousand directions. Usually I credit myself with having the ability to focus until a task is complete. Working diligently while keeping my nose to the grindstone isn’t asking for much. But there’s no controlling my thoughts. Not today.
My mind has been wandering down a path that I’d been ignoring for too long. The floodgates burst open and any attempts at concentrating are utter shit. I’m a lost cause because of her. And I always have been.
Big blue eyes the color of a tropical gulf. Dark hair that hangs in loose waves, falling down to a slender waist. A lush pout that’s still swollen from my kiss. Toned thighs squeezing my skull as I lick faster. What’s a man expected to do? There’s no ignoring her, even in my imagination.
“Yo, Bowen.” The greeting bursts into my fantasy. “What’s shaking?”
I look over my shoulder toward the voice. Cane leans on the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking relaxed and loose. His posture contradicts the mounting ball of pressure building in my chest. Must be nice.
There aren’t many people I can stand hanging nearby for hours on end. I prefer being alone on the best days. Same goes for these jobs. But there are a few guys I’ve found to be tolerable. Cane is one of them. He’s a decent carpenter and mostly keeps to himself. I appreciate my space. This guy is good about giving it.
He steps into the foyer, reminding me of his question. I motion to the mayhem scattered around me. “Trying to put a wrap on this room.”
“I just finished installing that southside window.”
Why do I care? I lift a brow and drawl, “And? You want a cookie?”
Cane chuckles at that. “I need to take off. Wanted to see what you’re up to.”
I grunt. “You’re looking at it.”
He’s not required to check with me before dipping out. We’re on a level playing field, responsible for managing ourselves and the tasks assigned to us. There’s no official foreman, other than the owner himself. He drops in weekly to check our progress but otherwise leaves us alone. It’s a definite perk that we’re not required to report on a daily basis. I get to rule my own post without someone hovering.
“Quittin’ time for you soon?” He taps at his phone.
I glance outside, finding the sun still high. A quick scan around the living room shows rolls of matting and stacks of oak waiting to be placed. The floor is far from done. I could stick around another hour and get more boards down. Boss says to cut corners as needed. Visions of Sutton begin replaying, providing more than an adequate shove. Fuck it, I’ll haul ass tomorrow. “Yeah, I’m ready to call it a day.”
Cane is quiet for a moment, his gaze doing a slow sweep of the space I’m still crouched in. “You all good, man?”
I glare at him. Why is everyone so concerned about me lately? Do I have a stamp on my forehead requesting assistance? Didn’t think so. I rise to my feet and face him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He scratches the back of his neck. “Not sure. Trouble at home?”
“Oh, you got it.” I might work with this guy frequently, but he doesn’t know me. “Bear has been a real bitch to deal with. Nice try.”
The easy expression melts off his face. “You don’t have to be a dick. I was just asking.”
“That’s not necessary. I’m fine.”
“Aren’t fucking acting like it,” he mutters under his breath.
A ripple of smoke swirls off my skin. I narrow my eyes into thin slits. “What’s it matter to you?”
“Well, screw me for trying to be your friend.”
A humorless
laugh escapes me at his sudden interest. “I have enough of those.”
Cane seems to be done leaving me alone. It’s safe to say I misjudged his standoff behavior. He raises a palm. “Okay, whatever. Forget about it. Enjoy your night.”
I jut my chin up. “Same to you.”
“Going to Howlers. Cheers.” He offers a limp salute before turning on his heel and stomping to his car.
I track his retreating form with a fierce glare. The tension in my muscles spiked with each passing moment. The throbbing pulse stabbing into my temples isn’t helping. This afternoon just took a turn for the worse, and my mood is plummeting with the descent. Fucking awesome. The only thing stopping a spiral is my plan for this evening. Tonight will be better. And that’s my cue to blow this joint.
Ferocious tidal waves whoosh in my ears while I storm from wall to wall locking the place up. All the materials remain in scattered piles across the living room. There isn’t much use cleaning up at this stage in the game. With a resounding slam, I’m out of there. I remove my toolbelt with a harsh tug and sling the heavy leather over my shoulder. The gravel crunches under my boots as I walk to my truck. I toss my gear into the bed, metal banging loud enough to make an echo.
I’ve never been more thankful for the short trip to my house. Two songs have blared from start to finish through the crackling speakers when I pull into the drive. I hop out, alternating barks and yelps immediately cutting through the stillness. Bear is waiting on his hind legs when I open the door. Before I can consider petting him, he leaps forward and dashes into the yard with his snout to the ground. I allow the barest hint of a smile to tip my lips. That dog is good for the sour soul.
With my temper already unwinding, I trek upstairs. The unfinished projects littered along the way don’t bother me for once. There’s a new goal in my forefront. I need to push the reset button and wash this day off me.
It takes me less than ten minutes to shower and toss on clean clothes. I feel lighter on my feet while stepping outside. Bear follows close behind, making sure to mark every tree we pass. The humidity hasn’t cracked and a fresh round of sweat quickly dots my brow. That’ll make for an even better ride.
The detached garage is marginally cooler and offers a slight breeze. I stride to the far corner with a tremble twitching my fingers. There, still in the box, is a helmet. Shiny, pink, and another symbol of wishful thinking. Turns out that fleck of hope wasn’t in vain, and is coming in handy if this morning was any indication. Dismal days forced me into wanting more from life. That’s one of the harsh outlooks that kept me moving forward. It’s a shitload easier to give up, my mother is realistic proof of that. But that small voice never quit whispering sweet promises of better moments to come. Sutton led me through my darkest points without even realizing. Or maybe she does. That connection between us hums in my gut. No more stalling.
I rip open the packaging and strap her helmet to the side of my bike. My foolish planning is beginning to pay off. No one has been on the back. She’ll be the first, and only.
Bear paws at my leg, tilting his head to the side and giving me the pitiful puppy-dog eyes. I kneel in front of him and scratch his scruff. “Don’t be sad, boy. I’m gonna pick up Sutton and go for a fast spin. We’ll be back soon.”
His ears lift and flick a bit. He adds in a whine for good measure.
I comb through the thick fur down his sides. Bear flops down and offers his stomach. I indulge him for a few minutes, scratching the spot that gets his leg spinning. With a clap, I stand and prop open the door leading to his run. “There. You can enjoy the great outdoors while I’m gone.”
But he’s done listening. Bear is racing back and forth along the chain fencing, chasing a squirrel or an imaginary bunny. I can’t be too sure which one. A rumble rolls off my chest, releasing the remaining strain. It’s going to be a damn good night.
Without overthinking anything else, I straddle the leather seat and walk my hog onto the driveway. I dig out my phone and the screen lights up with a plain background. Maybe it’s time to change that too. I tap over to contacts. Sutton’s number is the only one in my favorites, always has been.
Me: Where are you?
The three dots appear immediately. I smirk at that. Glad I’m not the only one jonesing.
Sutt: Steeped.
Me: On the corner of First and Hill?
Sutt: That’s the place.
Me: Be there soon.
I pocket my cell before she responds. It’s time to get my girl.
16
Sutton
Happy something #57: Making wishes on weeds.
The rumble from a motorcycle breaks apart my thoughts and skewers the idle chatter around the cafe. That low roar rockets from the tips of my toes straight up. A streak of heat follows in its wake, goosebumps prickling my arms. I shiver and lift my gaze to the large bay window. There’s a single headlight beaming at me, growing brighter as he approaches.
I nearly jumped from my seat when his text came through. Hasty might as well be my middle name. Grady messaged me fifteen minutes ago, but I wasn’t sure how long he meant by soon. The idea of him showing up shoved an unpredictable twist in my smooth routine. I’d been semi-productive until that point. Most of that was due to my phone remaining silent. I’d been secretly waiting to hear from him since we parted this morning. But I refuse to be that clinging girl.
I’m no longer the lovesick teenager who would’ve done anything to be with Grady Bowen. A part of her still lives and breathes inside of me, but the woman I’ve become rallies louder. She demands stability and some perception of commitment before spilling her guts. There has to be a happy medium. This has happened so suddenly that a teeny tiny piece of me still needs confirmation. Silly as that seems considering this is Grady I’m referring to. He wouldn’t deceive me.
We’ve reconciled, but there’s plenty left unsaid. Maybe tonight will solve some of that. I’m comfortable letting things play out as they’re meant to be. Confidence infuses my bones while Grady zooms closer to Steeped. Our potential is strong and bright. Being in a romantic relationship with him feels like a long time coming. It’s difficult to remain calm and go slow. I want everything he’s willing to offer, and that need burns through every part of me.
Grady will have the same from me in return. I’ll be his rock. A pure source of happy somethings. His most reliable and loyal confidante. I’ll always stick by his side. He’ll want to let me in, completely and irrevocably. Gaining that level of trust seems like a feat, but his walls are already crumbling.
We bowed and bent toward each other without much fight. It’s always been that way. Try as I might, which I really didn’t, there was no resisting. That’s why I couldn’t handle being around before. Witnessing him avoid me on purpose was a shot of poison, infecting me with bitterness and toxicity. We’re moving well beyond the opposite of that, I think.
I shake off the uncertainty, that flicker of insecurity tipping the scale. This is for real. He’s pretty much admitted we’re forever. But I should wait until we’re officially settled to reveal any of this. That stops me short. There I go again, running off with wild ideas. This man stirs up a level of crazy I didn’t believe lived inside of me. I lay a hand over my forehead.
Stay calm. Slow down.
That’s probably the best place to start. But too many lost opportunities have slipped through my fingers. I won’t waste more. Being with him—in any capacity—is all I truly need. Happiness is us blending together. Moving home to Silo Springs reignited our bond. And here we are.
I watch as Grady eases the bike to a stop along the curb in front of the main entrance. Is he coming in? Should I go out? Grady yanks off his helmet and turns those green eyes toward me. I blink at him. Can he see me? Does it matter? I collect my things in a rush and meet him on the sidewalk.
He’s wearing a thin white tee that showcases his muscular build. His dark blond hair is mussed and messy. A thick dusting of stubble coats his jaw. Those seductive emeral
d pools beg me to dive in.
Mine. I clack my teeth and hope he doesn’t notice.
Grady offers me a half smile. “Hi, Sutt.”
“Hey, Gray.” I’m a tad breathless, and not from dashing across a few feet of space.
All of those needs and desires from moments ago resurface. I stare at him, into those honest green eyes, and the words threaten to spill out. Somehow I manage to gulp them down. Well, most of them. Containment is essential for my pride.
“I’m extremely attracted to you,” I blurt. “Like a magnet.” I bump my fists together for visual emphasis.
That’s what I choose to say? Out of everything? I almost smack my forehead.
Grady’s laughter shatters my humiliation. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”
A scorching blaze wafts against my cheeks. I tuck my chin, but don’t break our connection. Should I kiss him? Hold his hand? Grady makes a decision, tugging me into him by the belt loop. Two strong arms band around my waist and erase any bit of space between us. The answer was a hug, the best one ever. I purr against his chest.
My skin is still tingling from Grady’s masterful ministrations earlier. Being this close to him again heightens the sensation tenfold. It’s almost surprising my legs aren’t trembling in anticipation.
“Don’t get shy on me now.” His lips tickle the shell of my ear. “I missed you.”
“Missed you so much.” I ease back a smidge to catch his stare. “How was work?”
Grady lifts a shoulder and I shift with the slight movement. “Decent. Didn’t get shit done.”
“No?”
“Had a lot on my mind.” He rotates his injured arm, then winks at me.
Tempt Me: A First Class Romance Collection Page 98