by Tiffany King
My stomach growled in response to his question, making him smile. "I'll take that as a yes. You should be hungry since you snored through dinner."
"I don't snore," I retorted.
"Are you sure about that?"
"No one's ever mentioned it before," my voice trailed off. Did I snore? It had been a long time since I had an overnight guest.
"Probably because I made it up," he said grinning at me as he headed for the door. Grabbing a pillow off the bed, I chucked it at the door, even though he was already long gone. He would never outgrow teasing me.
I switched on the lamp on the table and picked up my phone that Grant must have charged for me since my battery was at one hundred percent. It was still too early to call my parents, but I would have to in a little while. I didn't relish breaking the news to my mom that for the first time ever, I would not be home for Christmas. Scrolling through my social media apps, I made sure I hadn't missed anything in my absence. For the most part, everything was quiet on that front. I guess everyone was in holiday mode, which was fine with me. It was kind of nice to take a break from it all.
Setting my phone to the side, I laid back on the pillows. It felt strange to not be obsessing over my blog. For two years, I had slept, ate and breathed nothing but my cooking show. Even when I agreed to come home, my plan was to work while I was there. I had an entire Christmas segment worked out with different holiday treats that were sure to woo your man. Now, it almost felt like my perspective was changing, or was at least blurred. Maybe it was the nearly life-altering plane crash or the car accident during a snowstorm that could have turned tragic, or my sprained ankle. Or for that matter, even the night in the roach motel. I could laugh now at how crazy the last forty-eight hours had been, but it also had me thinking about where my life was going. Of course, I neglected to add the most important thing to the list, which was Grant. Up until two days ago, I had been able to successfully make it through long stretches of time without giving him any thought. Even if he did come to mind, it was only the fact that he was probably married to Amanda with a couple of kids. Knowing that wasn't the case changed everything.
"Sorry it took so long. Maggie insisted on making you a full breakfast," Grant said, interrupting my thoughts. He carried a tray loaded with food.
"Holy gluttony. She didn't have to do that," I protested, although the tantalizing scents had my growling stomach thinking otherwise.
"I tried to tell her that, but I think she felt bad since you missed dinner last night. Which, by the way, might have been the best pot roast I've ever had," he said, placing the tray in the middle of the bed between us. He handed one of the loaded plates to me.
"So, tell me what's been going on in Woodfalls," I said, taking a bite of bacon.
"Doesn't your mom keep you up on everything?"
"Not really. Sometimes I think she's hoping that by being close-mouthed I'll come home more often. She'll throw out little teasers every once in a while, but won't embellish on them, even when I press her. She's a jerk," I said affectionately.
"Sounds smart to me. What do you want to know?"
"Everything," I answered.
And that's what he did. He filled me in on who was dating who, who had recently had kids, who had passed away, and of course, my cousin Tressa's latest scandals. I loved Tressa to death, but I swear, she wasn't happy unless she was stirring up something. Our conversation continued after we finished eating. He was turning into an easy person to talk to when he wasn't teasing me. I'm sure a lot of it had to do with our common bond of knowing all the same people. I was surprised to discover we shared a lot of the same likes and dislikes. It seemed crazy that even growing up around someone in the same small town didn't mean you knew everything about them.
"What about your dad? How's he liking retirement?" I asked, sliding my plate away so I would stop nibbling on the leftovers. My stomach was threatening mutiny if I tried to eat one more morsel of food.
"Well, considering he still comes in almost every day, I'd hardly call it retirement. I think he missed the memo on what retirement is supposed to entail. I guess I can't blame him though. The lumber yard has been his whole life since he was kid. My grandpa was the same way. I'm sure when it's my turn it'll be my son griping one day."
"Your son? You want kids?" I asked, completely floored.
"Sure I want kids. The more, the better as far as I'm concerned."
Seriously? Mr. Non-Commit wanted kids? Did he understand that kids were the mother of all commitments?
"What? You don't want kids?" he asked intently.
"Of course I want kids. I want a whole houseful, but I'm shocked you want them."
"Why? You think I'd make a lousy dad?" he asked, snagging the last piece of bacon from my plate.
"Of course not, but you do realize you'll actually have to bite the bullet and commit to someone?"
"Duh, really?" he said, looking offended.
"Hey, don't get all offended. You're the one who said you couldn't commit."
"What? When did I say something like that?" he asked incredulously.
"When you were talking about Amanda getting married," I answered, amazed at how dense he was being.
"I said she wanted things from me I wasn't willing to give."
"Exactly. Considering she got married to someone else, I'm guessing what she wanted was marriage."
"Right," he answered, looking at me like I was the one talking in circles and not him.
"Which would mean you were unable to commit," I said through gritted teeth, plopping back on my pillows. He was so infuriating at times. I couldn't tell if he was messing with me.
"Commit to her being the point."
"Ooooh, you didn't want to marry her," I said, finally understanding. I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth, mulling his words over. He wasn't the commitment-phobe I had portrayed him to be. He just hadn't found his "someone." I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. It shouldn't matter to me. But it did.
"Ding ding ding. I don't remember you being that dense in school. Have these highlights messed with your brain?" he teased, tugging on a lock of my hair.
"Funny. I thought you were deliberately trying to be obtuse."
"Why do you care so much?" he asked, scooting the tray to the foot of the bed and moving closer to me.
My body reacted to his close proximity. "What makes you think I care?" I said breathlessly as he inched closer.
"I think you care a lot," he said, dropping his eyes to my mouth.
I swallowed hard as his mouth hovered close to mine. "Tell me you haven't been thinking about this," he said, stroking a thumb over my bottom lip.
"Have you?" I whispered.
"Jams, I've been thinking about this longer than I can remember," he said, crushing his lips to mine. His words rang through my head, but there was no way I could make sense of them when his lips felt so good. I responded with a small moan when his tongue trailed across the same spot where his thumb had been. My pleasure filled acceptance affected him and he dragged me into his arms, deepening the kiss. A shiver rippled down my body as our tongues found each other. I gripped the hem of his shirt, wanting him closer. Hearing my unspoken plea, he settled the upper half of his body on top of mine. I gasped with pleasure, running my fingers up under his shirt. I could feel the firmness of his muscles and smoothness of his skin. It was almost my undoing when I felt him tugging at my shirt moments before his hand glided over the sensitive skin of my ribcage. My blood roared through me. His hand moved farther up to my breasts and I bowed my body, whimpering against his lips. I wanted his touch everywhere on my body.
"Jams, you're seriously killing me," he said raggedly against my lips. He pulled back slightly.
"Is that good or bad?" I asked, running my hands up his torso. My fingers trailed to the small patch of hair that disappeared down his jeans. Ever since I'd seen him in nothing but his jockey shorts the other night, I've fantasized about that small trail of hair.
"So good it almost
hurts," he said, leaning in for another kiss. Before his lips could reach their destination, a beeping noise from downstairs followed by the sound of voices in the hallway interrupted us. "Really?" he asked incredulously, climbing off the bed. I couldn't help giggling. Of course something was going on. With our luck lately, I could have almost set my watch by it.
Chapter 10
Grant helped me put my boot on my one good foot and slid his feet into his own before he reached for me. His eyes were amused as he scooped me up into his arms yet again. "Nice timing," he joked. "I better think about baseball and hope it works quickly."
"What?" I asked, not getting what he meant.
"You know—we were just doing some stuff that may have caused something," he said, nodding his head downward.
I burst out laughing after finally realizing his problem. "So, I shouldn't tell you how hot you were making me?" I said, adding fuel to the fire.
"Please no," he pleaded as I reached out to open the door.
In the last twenty-four hours, I had been held by him a number of times, and yet this time it felt different as he cradled me tenderly against his chest. We followed another couple down the stairs and outside. Smoke was drifting from the back of the house, which alarmed us both.
"Where's Maggie?" I asked, scanning the small crowd outside.
"I don't know," Grant said, looking worriedly back inside.
"Put me down, I can hang on to the post," I said, hearing sirens in the background.
"Don't move," he said, setting me down.
"I promise not to run any marathons. Now get in there."
A woman I didn't know came over to stand beside me. "Are you okay?" she asked as I hobbled on one foot while I held the banister.
"Yeah, it's just a bad sprain. Do you know what happened?" I asked.
"I think it's another one of Maggie's mishaps in the kitchen," she laughed.
"This has happened before?" I asked, feeling somewhat relieved.
"Oh, yeah. We've been coming here for ten years, and I think Maggie has had a fire five of those years," she said, laughing again. "I was still snoozing when the alarm went off this time. Thank god my husband, Jim, heard it since I sleep like the dead. I wish he would have had the foresight to tell me to grab my shoes though," she said, pointed down to her stocking-clad feet.
I nodded my head absentmindedly. The sirens were getting louder, but I was more concerned that it seemed to be taking Grant so long. The rest of the residents didn't seem overly concerned as they chatted among themselves, but I was still a worried. Just when I was ready to hobble in after him, the first fire truck turned down the narrow lane in front of the inn. At the same moment, Grant came out from the house followed by a sheepish-looking Maggie, who was coughing from the smoke.
"Not again, Maggie," one of the firemen said, climbing down from the rig. "Is it out?"
"It was just a small one, Hank," Maggie said, shooting a guilty look at her guests.
"What did we tell you about using your gas stove?" he asked as the other men from the fire truck headed inside to make sure the fire was indeed out. Peering through the door, I could tell most of the smoke had already started to thin out.
"What happened?" I asked Grant as Maggie trailed in after the firemen.
"Grease fire. Maggie had it out by the time I made it in there, but the kitchen was already filled with smoke. We opened the back door and the kitchen windows to let it blow out," he said, taking my hand so I wasn't so wobbly. "I guess it's happened before. Maggie likes to keep the bacon grease on the stove, but she forgets to turn off the heat under it.
I laughed. I had worked long enough in the cooking field to know her mistake.
"Well, at least Maggie seems to be a pro at dealing with it," I said, watching the firemen head back out. Hank was still reprimanding Maggie, telling her he'd have to give her a citation the next time they had to come out. Maggie listened to him solemnly, nodding her head in all the appropriate spots. Once the fire truck pulled away, Maggie turned to me with the same mischievous grin I had seen the day before.
"Sorry about the early morning wake-up call, folks. The good news is breakfast is ready for those who haven't eaten and the cookies in the oven were saved before disaster struck," she said good-naturedly, leading the way back into the house. Everyone laughed with her, relieved it was nothing more serious. That, and we really wanted to get back inside. There were far too many chattering teeth as everyone stomped their feet in the cold. At least the snow had finally stopped, but the wind was still blowing around.
"Your chariot waits," Grant said, lifting me up. "I think I'm getting used to this."
"Fine by me," I teased. My eyes met his and I knew we were both thinking about our kiss and everything else that was about to happen before the ruckus. His eyes darkened while his grip on me tightened. "You want to go back upstairs?" he asked. I knew what he was asking. If we went upstairs, we would be continuing where we left off. He was giving me a chance to put on the brakes, but it wasn't necessary. I was as ready as he was.
I nodded my head, running my hand over the light-colored five o'clock shadow covering the lower half of his face. I liked this rugged look he was sporting. I continued to explore his face, taking time to trace my finger over his lip as he carried me back to our room. He startled me by sucking the finger into his mouth. My stomach tightened with desire as his tongue swirled sensually around my finger. I turned my head to see how close we were to our room. Sensing my urgency, he picked up his pace.
Our door was still open from when we left earlier, but Grant kicked it closed behind us and reached back to make sure it was locked. "I don't want to hurt your ankle," he said, looking at my wrapped foot.
"You won't," I said. At the moment, that was the last thing on my mind. My desire for him had intensified to the point of no return. I had dreamed about this moment for a long time. As he lowered me to the bed, I remembered something I wanted to ask him. "What did you mean when you said you'd been thinking about kissing me for a long time?" I asked as he pulled off my boot and climbed up on the bed with me. Taking care not to jar my ankle, he positioned me on my side so we were facing each other.
He scooted close, running a hand from my shoulder down to my hand before lacing our fingers together. He brought my hand to his mouth so he could place his lips on my knuckles before answering me. "Jams, surely you know I've had a thing for you half my life?" he said, placing a hot kiss on my wrist.
"No, you haven't," I argued. Did I really need to remind him of all the relentless teasing he had put me through during my formative years?
"Didn't you get the hint when I dipped your braid in paint in second grade?" he asked, scooting my shirtsleeve up so he could trail his lips up my forearm. I shifted closer to him with my desire at full force. Sensing my needs, he lifted my good leg and eased his own leg between me, bringing us practically on top of each other. I couldn't help moving against him. He was driving me nuts with his slow patient pace.
"You hated me," I said, finally finding my voice since our slow grinding motion was distracting me.
"I was just trying to get your attention. I thought you were cute, but you kept shooting me down," he said, moving his kisses from my arm to my collarbone.
"You teased me mercifully."
"I had a major hound dog crush on you. I worked for a week on the valentine I gave you in third grade. Do you remember it?"
"I still have it," I admitted.
He pulled back from my neck for a moment. "You do?" he asked, sounding thunderstruck.
I nodded my head as his eyes held mine. "I had to re-tape it freshman year when I tore it up."
"Why, what happened freshman year?" he asked, smoothing my hair off my forehead before resting his hand on my thigh so he could hitch my leg over his more securely. We continued our slow grind. I would have been embarrassed, but it felt too good to care.
"You started dating Amanda. It crushed my heart, so I tore up the heart you gave me. After I re-reta
ped it, I shoved it in my drawer so I wouldn't have to face it."
"I started dating Amanda because I thought you were never going to give me a shot. The guys were giving me a hard time and told me to do something or move on. I figured they were right when you never looked at me again."
"You broke my heart. Just ask Fran. She was my sounding board the entire time," I whispered as he lowered his mouth to my cheek.
"I was stupid. If it makes you feel better, you broke my heart too when you left Woodfalls," he admitted.
My heart stuttered. His words eclipsed our sensual heat as we shared probably the most significant moment of my life. "We were both stupid," I said, pulling him close. I couldn't stand another moment without our lips together. The kiss started so tenderly that tears formed in my eyes. Cupping my face with his hands, Grant anchored me in place as his lips staked their claim. I deepened the kiss and moved my hips to force his leg more snugly between mine. His hands found their way under my shirt, moving seductively over my stomach, past my ribcage and coming to a rest right below my bra line. "Yes," I whimpered. I raised my back to allow him access to remove my lacy undergarment.
"You want this?" he asked, slowly lifting my bra so his hand could make its way underneath.
"Don't be a tease," I said, tugging on his shirt.
"But you're so cute when you get aggravated," he said, shrugging off his shirt. I lifted my head and circled his nipple with my tongue, grinning wickedly when his eyes darkened. I could play his game if that's what he wanted. I glided my tongue smoothly to his other nipple, dragging it between my teeth and biting gently. His body arched against mine. I could feel his hunger pressed hot and hard against me. Enjoying the feeling of empowerment, I sucked harder on his chest as he gripped my hair in his hands.
"Enough, woman," he finally said, pulling off my shirt and bra.
"Just thought you needed a little taste of your own medicine," I said. He took it as a challenge and began kissing my stomach. This time it was my turn to arch as his mouth left a fiery path down my abdomen to the top of my PJ bottoms. To make his point, he lifted the edge of my panties and placed one more purposeful kiss just above where I wanted him the most. He was killing me. My response set a fast course as we shed the rest of our clothing. I finally got to see where the enticing trail of hair on his stomach ended just before he settled between my legs. His eyes never left mine as he moved slowly inside me. He set the pace, which was both infuriating and toe curling all at once. He would thrust against me, getting me right to the edge and then hold back to drag the moment out. I clutched at his back, urging him that I was close.