Wishing For You (Never Too Late Book 2)

by Mayra Statham

  “Get what?” He frowned, his heart thumping hard.

  “Olivia…”

  “This has nothing to do with her,” he snapped. She flinched and took a step back. He regretted his action but didn’t know what to do. Shelly made him feel too much. He watched her ignore him as she put things away. Silently, he helped her.

  “I’m a dick,” he said, standing away.

  “No, you’re just human.” She sighed, still clearing things off the table. “I don’t care about Remington Drake. I don’t want to go do a showing anywhere that isn’t Alexander Galleries,” she shared, and he felt a wave of relief flow through him.

  “Do you want to go to Paris?” he asked lightly and saw her lips twitch.

  “What girl doesn’t want to go to Paris?” She laughed, and he knew they would be okay. They both needed to get to know one another in a new setting, one as more than the friends they’d been for a lifetime.

  “Why did you never have kids?” he couldn’t help asking, but regretted it instantly when her body stopped moving, an easel in her hands, her face unreadable.

  “I…”

  “It’s not any of my business, Shell, I’m an ass…” Great job, Alexander!

  “It’s okay.” She shook her head. She continued to put things away, not looking at him as she spoke. “I wanted to have kids. I just didn’t want to do it alone. I thought about adopting or just going out, getting knocked up, whether naturally or with the help of medical science,” she told him, her voice clear but laced with vulnerability. “But at the end of the day, I didn’t want to do it alone. I never met anyone…”

  “No one?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, still clueless as to how men couldn’t have seen her for the treasure she was.

  “No. I mean I dated good and not so good men, you know that. It was never any secret. They just didn’t click with me like that.”

  “What’s like that?”

  “Love,” she instantly answered. “The forever kind. The kind that comes with a sprawling ranch style home, huge yard with a wooden swing set, kids running around sprinklers, and a sitting area where I would enjoy my mug of coffee while the hundred loads of laundry are being washed and dried in machines, stowed away in a dark corner of a messy two-car garage that is so cluttered, it only fits a minivan.” She smiled as she met his eyes. He knew she was trying to lighten the conversation while giving him a glimpse of what she had really wanted and hadn’t had. It was disarming, knowing someone for so long, but finding out so many new things about them. He wanted to say something that would make up for her not having had that, something wise and moving.

  Instead, without a word, he walked to her, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her. There were no words he could give her, but he could give her things now and he would. When he parted from her, she leaned her forehead to his, and he watched how her eyes stayed closed while she took a deep breath. He was humbled with the impenetrable strength of the woman in front of him. The tough exterior she showed the world compared to how sensitive she really was intrigued him and made him want to shield her against life.

  “Okay, Alexander,” she sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Let’s get going, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He kissed the top of her head, wondering how he could make up for things she hadn’t had.

  Chapter Eighteen

  One Month Later

  Shelly

  She watched him over her glass of white wine as he talked to her about his trip. He’d been in Paris for a week for a showing and helping Rhett with the expansion of the gallery there, since they had acquired the property next door. She had wanted to go, but she stayed behind to help Jess with the last-minute planning for her best friend’s son’s engagement party.

  She watched him move easily around in his kitchen. He looked delicious wearing a blue Captain America tee shirt and a pair of slate grey cargo shorts that showed off his body. He was relaxed, and she liked that she helped him do that. She tried to think of a time he’d dressed like that before they changed the type of their relationship, but nothing came to mind.

  “I’m going to miss my kitchen,” he said randomly, snapping her out of her thoughts. She looked at him, feeling confused.

  “What?”

  “I said I’ll miss this kitchen. I love this kitchen.” He had his broad shoulders to her as he chopped chicken on a cutting board.

  “Really? Where are you going?” she asked, feeling amused, wondering what he was up to.

  “Next door,” he said, not looking at her. Her heart rate picked up as she placed her glass on a coaster. In a way, she figured, they were both rubbing off on each other. Before him, she couldn’t care less about coasters.

  “What?”

  “When I move in, if you ever ask me to, that is.” He turned and leaned his body against the counter, one foot crossed over the other. “I’ll miss this kitchen,” he shared again, and she looked at him wide-eyed, her heart picking up speed.

  “You want to move in?” she asked in wonder.

  “I like my kitchen, but you have your studio just like you want it,” he shared, not really answering her question. “The view from your entire top floor is better than mine too.” It was, but she wasn’t going to gloat. A silence fell over them. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, it was just silence.

  “We could get the kitchen re-done if you wanted,” she chimed, picking up her glass, her hands slightly shaky. She felt his blue gaze on her skin, warm and safe, and she was suddenly calm. The nervousness that had just been radiating off of her faded away. “We could fix up one of the two guestrooms for Rhett. That way he could have his own space when he came to visit,” she added, not believing that they were talking about moving in after less than three months of being them.

  “You want me to live with you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, and she knew he was trying to make her nervous. But the thing was, she knew she was safe with him. He would protect what they had as much as she would, so she shrugged.

  “Do you?” she quipped sassily, and he grinned at her.

  “Yeah, honey. I do.” He moved closer to her and kneeled in front of her. “If this feels too fast, I need you to know that’s okay. I can keep doing what we’ve been doing. I’ll keep some of my stuff at your place and some of yours will have to stay here, so that neither of us is in a hurry to get clean clothes or shoes every morning…”

  “I love you, Grant,” she told him, not for the first time that day.

  They told one another how they felt all the time and for no reason. Sure, they still argued and challenged each other, just like when they had only been friends, but it was always clear that they were a unit. No matter the disagreement, they were solid. Everyone around them knew they were an item. There were some who had tried to sully what they had, making it out to be something tawdry, but they didn’t care.

  The ones they cared about knew and supported them being together. Her best friend Jess had been surprised and a little sad that she hadn’t shared how she had felt towards Grant, but she’d understood and was genuinely happy for her. Her sister Claire had been surprised but happy, promising to make a trip out from Washington, so that she could get to know Grant as her older sister’s boyfriend.

  “I love you too, baby.” He kissed her breathless, and when he moved away to get back to whatever else he had to chop up in the kitchen, she sighed with a smile playing on her lips. How many times had she wished for a moment like this? Where you talk with your boyfriend about moving in? She was fifty-six and thinking about moving in with her boyfriend. A giggle escaped from within, and he gave her a look that she knew meant he thought she was cute. She pressed her lips together and knew she needed to take a leap of faith.

  “We’ll call some movers on Monday,” she said, trying to sound calm and cool about it, and failing horribly. Standing up with too much nervous energy, she walked to the fridge to fill her glass, but he grabbed her by the waist, gallantly taking her glass from her and setting it on the counter, his attention ne
ver leaving her.

  “Am I moving in?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, her body trembling.

  “Scared?”

  “I’ve never lived with someone, Grant.”

  “I promise I’m a good roommate, Shell.”

  “I’m sure you are…” She shook her head, tears threatening in her eyes. “I’m not worried about you being a good housemate.”

  “What are you worried about, honey?”

  “Messing it all up,” she blurted without a second thought. This was what was bad about dating your best friend. You were so comfortable around them you told them too much when it was regarding them.

  “Impossible.” The steady, confident way he said that one word made her entire body go still. When she looked into his blue eyes, her hands moved up his face with a mind of their own as a calm swept over her, even as he kept talking. “We are good. Better than good. You have nothing to worry about, okay? As long as we keep being us and sharing our days how we’ve been doing, we will be okay. This is solid until the day you don’t think it’s working. But honestly, Shell, I don’t see that happening.” His lips lightly touched hers. “We know one another so damn well. And I don’t know about you, but I love knowing that we’ve known one another as long as we have and are still finding out new things about the each other.” He had her there.

  What they had was new and old all at the same time.

  “I love that too,” she admitted to him, loving the way his blue eyes smiled back at her. “I don’t want to wait. Let’s look at getting those movers here Monday. I don’t like leaving you in the mornings to get ready for my day either.”

  “I’ll call them Monday,” he told her, kissing her on the nose. She smiled so big her face hurt, but she couldn’t care one bit. She had never been as happy as she was in that moment.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Three Months Later

  Grant

  He stared at the space in front of him and took a deep breath. His beach house was empty and ready to be rented out. He had moved all his things to Shelly’s place next door, and what didn’t fit there, he’d either donated to charity or put into storage.

  The sun was close to setting, but everything was set up.

  In the center of his bare living room sat a metal bistro table and two chairs Shelly had had her eye on for a while. Candles were lit all around the space, and white sand he’d ordered especially for today made a pathway into his home over his dark wooden floors.

  The sight made him realize how much love can change a person. He would have never thought of bringing in sand the way he had, but with Shelly, he was a more relaxed version of himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t still want things tidy or that there were things that Shelly did that magically stopped driving him nuts. Hell, no. But this he could do for her without a second thought.

  He glanced at the clock, smiling about how she was about ten minutes away from being home. He’d sent her to get dinner, feigning a headache. The candlelight gleamed off the only other thing on the table. The glass jar of shells with a couple of dark, smooth rocks mixed in.

  On schedule, she called and he answered.

  “Where are you?” she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

  “Next door.”

  “Dinner is set up,” she told him. “I also stopped to get you some pain meds. How’s your head?” He smiled, grateful that she didn’t have a clue about what was going on.

  “Fine. Come over here first though.”

  “The food is going to get cold, babe,” she argued.

  “There’s something I want to show you,” he told her but could already hear her walking.

  He stood outside of his home, at the edge of the white sand, holding a bouquet of bright coral pink roses, Shelly’s favorite; he’d found out through Jess.

  In the sweet teal maxi dress she’d left in to get food, she walked through the back gate of what would no longer be his home. She looked at him, her amber eyes wide. She stopped as if somehow frozen, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was so damn beautiful. Her hair was down and wavy, blowing slightly in the sea breeze. He ended the call, slipped his cell in the pocket of his tuxedo pants, and walked his barefoot ass to her, because being this close and yet this far was never easy for him.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she whispered back, surprise still clear on her face. He handed her the flowers, but she didn’t look at them, not even a glance. She only had eyes for him.

  He was in his tuxedo, the top two buttons of the shirt undone, the tie dangling from his neck, and barefoot in the sand.

  “Should I be worried you’re having a stroke?” she asked softly. He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m serious, people your age…” To this, he laughed out loud and pulled her in close. Her front was touching his and their arms were around one another’s waist, his right above the swell of her great ass.

  “My age, huh?”

  “Well…” She shrugged, giving him a sexy grin. He couldn’t help but go off course of how he had planned this moment would go and kissed her. But that was the effect she had on him. She’d definitely been a curveball in his life he had no idea was coming at him. He needed to taste her.

  “I love you,” he whispered softly against her lips as she chastely kissed him back. With great effort, he silently stepped back. Holding her hand, he guided them inside.

  He heard her soft gasp as she took in the space, and his hands started to feel clammy. He looked at her and loved that he knew the woman who stood in front of him.

  Her hand covered her lips as she took in the white sand over the wooden floors as well as the endless candles lit and in their own distressed white vases Jess and Scott had helped set up for him. Shells of all sorts of shapes and sizes bordered the sand that led a path to the black metal table they’d eventually take back to their place, so they could share their morning coffee at it every morning.

  “Grant... when…”she stuttered, still looking around. He cleared his suddenly tight throat.

  “I love you, Shelly Santiago.” Her eyes met his head-on. That gave him the courage to keep talking. “I don’t know what I did to deserve the love of the incredible women who have loved me in my life, but I know that I’m incredibly blessed.” He swallowed hard, one hand tangled with hers, the other in his pocket. “Come here.” He led her to the table, let go of her hand and what he’d been holding in his pocket, then picked up the glass jar and handed it to her.

  “Every shell in there represents every time we’ve walked together on our beach from the first time we went out there, hand in hand.” Her lip trembled as she looked at the jar, and he pulled her head up with a finger under her chin. “The rocks are the times I’ve done the walk on my own.” He watched her face soften. “I can only hope that whatever life I have left, however many nights that is, that this bowl always contains more shells than rocks. I want as many nights, days, and in-betweens with you as possible. You’re not only an incredible woman, you’re my anchor, my lover, my all…” His voice was becoming hoarse with emotion. He cleared it and took the bowl from her, setting it on the chair beside her.

  “I didn’t think I could love again. Not really at least,” he admitted. “I was ready to break that promise to Olivia. I didn’t want to let myself feel what I felt before, because when you do, it fucking kills when you lose it.” His hand cupped her face. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears. “I’m so glad I was wrong, honey.” He leaned his forehead down to meet with hers. He heard her soft sniffle and felt the way she shuddered when she took a deep breath. “You kept me going, dragging me toward the light, when all I wanted to do was hide in darkness, and that’s the fucking truth. You did it in your own way and for years made sure I kept on that path.” His voice was hoarse with clear emotion. He pressed his lips together to keep his cool and kept going.

  “Marry me, Shell. Make an honest old man out of me.” His voice was gentle, and she made what sounded like a mix of a sob and a giggle. His thumbs
cleared away the tears that rolled down her beautiful face. Nerves hit him, making him wonder what she’d say.

  “I wished for you…” Her voice hitched high, and she tried to shake her pretty head to try to calm herself, but it was useless. He knew she was going to talk through her tears. “I didn’t know it was you… but I wished for a man like you. All my life…” Her admission made his heart clench. “Yes.” She nodded. “I’ll marry you,” she whispered, and he couldn’t help the triumphant way he felt. He picked up his girl and twirled her around the semi-empty space, now only filled with candlelight.

  Bringing her body down slowly, he kissed the tip of her nose and wiped away her tears. He pulled a shell box out of his pocket and held it out to her, opening it in his hands, loving the sound of her laughter as she took out the ring he’d picked for her. A thin gold band with a rose cut oval diamond in the center. He grabbed it and, holding her left hand, slipped it on, ready for this unexpected chapter in his life to commence.

  Epilogue

  One Year to the Date of Buying Her Couch

  Shelly

  “You look beautiful.” Jess smiled at her, her green eyes bright and glassy.

  “You cannot cry!” Shelly ordered, and her best friend laughed, shaking her head.

  “I’m not! And if I were, I’d be in my total right to cry! You didn’t let me throw you a bridal shower or a bachelorette…

  “I’m fifty-six, Jess… I own kitchen stuff I won’t ever use, and you have seen my panty drawer, it is not lacking,” she informed her best friend and watched as she rolled her eyes.

  “You ready?” Jess asked her, and she smiled, looking down at her fabulous dress, then looking out toward the ocean. It was everything the way she’d ever dreamed it would be.

  “Completely.”

  “Okay. Let’s get you married then!” Jess told her, and they walked hand in hand down the aisle, but she stopped.

  “Shell-bear?” Jess asked. She looked toward where Shelly’s eyes were focused on..