CHAPTER TWELVE
THE DAY OF the Ford-Laurent wedding arrived quickly for Grace, or maybe it was just trying to squeeze as much as she could into every minute she had left with Owen. It was a mistake, she knew, to let herself live in the moment instead of recognizing that this was borrowed time, but she did it all the same. It would all be over after tonight anyway, so what was the harm in taking a small bit of pleasure. Pleasure she could use to warm herself on what were sure to be some cold January nights.
Even this morning when her alarm had gone off and she’d needed to get into the shower immediately, she’d rolled over and curled into Owen instead. Which had led to some delightful touching and kissing and showering. And then she’d really been late. But she just couldn’t bring herself to tell him she needed to go. Not when the end was actually here.
Fortunately, she was able to drown herself in wedding-day details, organizing flowers and musicians. Liaising with the kitchen on service and food, both of which were paramount considering the bride, groom and entire guest list were involved in the food and beverage industry.
The venue was stunning, all winter white and dark wood tones, like a snow-covered forest, the secondary color a rich mossy green. Grace wore a simple lace sheath dress in a similar shade of green that complemented the decor without standing out. Exactly as she and her team were meant to do. Of course, that was easier said than done when Owen was around.
But he had duties to attend to as well, which was what she’d told him this morning when he’d followed her into the shower under the guise of helping her wash her back. She’d seen him once before the ceremony, slapping his brother on the back and putting a bottle of water into Donovan’s hand before he’d spotted her and turned to come her way.
She’d given him a sharp head shake and put her hand to her ear as though one of the team had just called her through the synced devices, when it had, in fact, been completely silent. Owen had given her a sad look, but stopped and turned back to his brother and other family members in the area, and Grace told herself she was glad. She couldn’t kiss him. Not here. No matter how much her body might want to.
She spent the next few hours making sure everything ran smoothly, from the ceremony to the toasts at the reception to the dancing. Grace had just finished helping a guest get out the red wine someone had splashed onto her lovely silver dress and was on her way back toward the main room to see that everyone was enjoying themselves without verging on rowdiness. It was a fine line between having a good time and having too good a time, but Grace had learned to manage it over the years. Nothing a quiet hand, a firm whisper and a suggestion that some air might be appropriate couldn’t handle.
“Hey.”
Grace glanced in the direction of the voice and felt a hiccup in her heart when Owen smiled at her from a small, dark alcove.
“I’m busy,” she told him, even though her feet had already changed direction to head toward him.
“You’ve got a minute.”
She didn’t, but before she could tell him that, his strong, warm hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her into the alcove with him.
He was warm and he looked hot in his tux. Grace had seen plenty of men in tuxes before—nature of the job—but she could confidently say no one had ever looked as good as Owen Ford. He’d even worn dress shoes and though she approved, given the circumstances, a small part of her missed the kicks.
“When this is all over, how about I take you someplace private?”
“When this is over, I plan to sleep for twelve hours.” But she’d probably get by on eight.
“I’ll join you.” Owen massaged the small of her back with his thumbs. Grace sucked in a sharp breath and he eased up. “Too hard?”
She shook her head. “No, it feels good.” Her back was always tense during events. All that standing in heels.
He pressed harder, working out the tender knots. “This would be a lot easier if you were naked.”
“And we’d get arrested for public indecency.”
“Small price to pay.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and her eyes slid shut. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Grace felt herself melting toward him, melting into him, and she allowed herself to enjoy it for a moment. “I should get back.”
“You should stay where you are.” He kissed her on each closed eyelid, then her lips. “With me.”
She’d like to. She really would. Instead, she pulled herself up and looked at him. “Julia and Donovan didn’t hire me to stand around and get a massage.”
“An oversight. Stay with me.”
Grace’s breath was a shudder. She wanted so much to believe that Owen meant what he said, that he wanted her to stay with him, for always. But she knew better. She sighed. She had a job to do and she was on the clock. “I can’t.” It would be easier this way.
But he curved a hand around her hip when she started to move. “I wish you were here with me.”
A tiny shudder swept through her. Grace did her best to hold it at bay. One small shudder could lead to a quaver, which would lead directly to a quake and the collapse of everything she’d worked so hard for. She had a plan, she reminded herself. A truly excellent plan and she wasn’t going to throw it all away for one tiny shudder. Even if it did have the potential to turn into a quake. “I’m with you right now,” she pointed out, glad that her voice sounded even and not shuddery at all.
“I mean, here as my date. Not working, not running around, not having a mere sixty seconds to let me get my hands on you. Not that I’m complaining about this little interlude.”
Grace felt the words catch in her throat. Because she wasn’t here as his date. “Owen.”
“Grace.” She could fall into his eyes. So warm and dark and welcoming. When he looked at her, it was as if she was his whole world. She sucked in a breath. “Stay with me,” he said.
It would be so easy to say yes. She didn’t even have to say anything. A brief nod or the press of her body against his would get the point across. Yes, she would stay.
“I want you.” His hands began to make slow circles on her back, gradually pulling her closer until she was pressed up against him again. She could feel the heat from his body and the curve of his biceps as he locked his arms behind her. It felt good. “Right here, right now.”
Which was how it always was. Temporary, fleeting. And just like that the slow melting of her insides stopped. All he meant was that he wanted her naked at his brother’s wedding.
Grace felt foolish. She knew that, had known it for a while. Owen might be gorgeous, he might wear a tux like nobody’s business and he might be able to make her laugh so hard that she gasped for breath. But he wasn’t looking for forever. At least, not with her.
She’d do well to remember that.
“I have to get back.” She unhooked his hands from her waist.
Owen twisted his fingers to catch hers, to hold her back for one more second. And even though she knew she should shake him loose, when she looked up and saw him watching her with those deep, dark eyes, she froze. “I’ll see you later?” he asked.
Grace knew she should say no. She’d allowed this to go on for far too long already, allowed herself thoughts that she knew were impossible, but she weakened when faced with his smile and the magnetic pull that sucked her in every time. But she knew that this would be the last time.
She nodded and extracted herself from his heat. She didn’t look back as she walked away. She couldn’t look back because she was afraid if she did, she’d do something even more foolish. Run to him. Say something she’d end up regretting. Share everything that was in her heart. And beg him to say he felt the same.
But she already knew how that would turn out. And it wouldn’t be according to plan. So tonight would be the last time. The very last time.
It was ti
me to say goodbye to Owen Ford.
* * *
OWEN DIDN’T STAY LATE at the wedding. He’d given his toast, kissed cheeks until his lips were chapped and ensured that the limo hired to take Julia and Donovan off at the end of the night was on schedule. He’d also double-checked the hotel suite they’d rented and made sure it was fully stocked with all the newlywed necessities. Champagne, strawberries and chocolate. Then he’d headed for Grace’s, feeling as if he’d earned his own celebration. One he planned to share with her.
He hummed as he let himself into her apartment. She’d be another hour or so, but he had his key, which allowed him to set up their own non-newlywed necessities. He liked having his own key. He’d given her one to his place, too, but she’d never used it. Not even when he’d hinted—okay, flat out told her—that he’d like it if she did.
But he figured that would change now. No longer would she have those concerns about her career or anything to keep her distance. He’d made certain the past month or so not to push, to make her feel safe and that she could trust him, but it had been hard. So many times he’d wanted to ask her to join him for dinner at Elephants or have brunch with his family or even something as banal as going for a walk together.
But he’d waited and now he intended to make up for some of that lost time. A warm rush filled him. It would be nice to stop hiding. He wanted to introduce her to the family as his, take her on a vacation, kiss her in public.
He checked the fridge for the bottle of wine he’d brought over last night, then pulled down a pair of glasses. He gave them a quick polish out of habit, even though they were as spotless as everything else in Grace’s apartment.
The space still sparkled with Christmas decorations. Shiny silver pinecones in clear bowls, white stockings hanging from a matched set of snowflake stocking holders and the green tree in the corner with twinkling white lights and silver and blue decorations. Though he’d snuck in a few colorful ones when she hadn’t been looking. A set of metallic pink stars, lime-green bells and the Popsicle-stick Rudolph he’d made in Grade One. He’d had to play innocent when his mother noticed Rudolph missing from her own tree. Hmm...nope, no idea where that could have gone. But his parents’ tree was filled with ornaments both elegant and garish. They still had his Popsicle-stick Santa and Popsicle-stick Frosty, so they didn’t need his Rudolph, too. And Grace had laughed really hard when she’d spotted it and then moved it to a place of honor in the front of the tree.
It grinned at him now, the googly eyes applied with a six-year-old’s slapdash attitude, askew and cross-eyed. Owen grinned back and stopped in front of the mantel, where Grace had a pair of silver stags on display. As had become his habit, he mounted one on top of the other then stepped back to admire his handiwork.
He was glad Grace hadn’t taken the decorations down and stored them away yet. It was nice, seeing the little celebration they’d created together. And remembering, when he looked beneath the tree, which was still stacked with presents—empty boxes Grace wrapped to make the display complete even if she hadn’t finished her shopping—how they’d celebrated the coming of the New Year. Literally.
Which he had plans to do again just as soon as she got home. He returned to the kitchen, filled up the ice bucket she stored in one of her cupboards, put the wine inside and carried it along with a stand and the glasses into the bedroom.
Owen loved Grace’s bedroom. It was so her. The pristine bedspread in white with some sort of shimmery pattern worked in. The smooth sheets that never had wrinkles and always smelled as if they’d spent the better part of the afternoon drying in the sun. The blue chair that she sat in to pull on stockings or shoes. And beneath all that perfectly organized, glossy white palette, something hidden and sexy.
The piles of colorful lingerie that filled her drawers. She didn’t have anything plain or cotton as far as he could tell. The body chocolate and long silk ribbons that hung in her closet and that he’d put to good use, though not at the same time. And the vibrator she stored in her nightstand that he liked to run all over her body, focusing on her nipples and rolling it between her legs, before sliding it deep inside her.
But he didn’t pull any of them out. Tonight, he wanted to be the only thing Grace thought of, the only thing she looked at, the only thing she felt.
Owen put the wine bucket into the stand, arranging the bottle so it sat at an angle and looked nicer, then placed the glasses on her nightstand. Her bed was neatly made, which only made it more fun to muss up. He pulled the covers back, tossing all the pillows she piled on it into the trunk she kept at the foot of the bed, as though the room couldn’t be messy even when she slept. There were more pillows added for the holiday season, a silver one with a pine tree etched in a slightly darker shade, a shiny white one and a pale blue one with a snowflake pattern. Most times he just tossed them and their brethren on the floor, but she’d purse her lips and pick them up before getting into bed and he didn’t want anything to slow her from sliding into his arms.
She’d looked amazing tonight. She always did, but there had been something special, something extra tonight. When she’d looked at him in the alcove, her lips slightly parted, he’d felt something hard knock in his chest. And then he’d made the joke about the quickie and things had returned to normal. Safer, at least.
Grace wouldn’t have gone for any of his suggestions anyway and as much as he teased her, he wouldn’t have followed through. Not at Julia and Donovan’s wedding. Now, if it had been some other random party, all bets would have been off. But there’d be opportunities for that later. Right now he had other plans.
Owen turned down the lamps in the room, leaving a dim path for Grace to follow. He lit candles. There was something sexy about the way they flickered, the shadows and movement that made him feel as if they weren’t in a city of over a million people. Then he undressed, hanging his tux on one of the hooks in Grace’s closet, because she would notice if he tossed it over the chair, and climbed into bed, arranging himself with his arms behind his head and stretching into a lounging position when he heard her enter the apartment.
Grace stopped in the doorway when she saw him splayed out like a buffet. He saw the lift of her eyebrow and the slow smile that spread across her face. “This is a nice surprise.”
His lips weren’t the only things that rose to greet her when she walked over and leaned down to give him a kiss.
“A very nice surprise.”
“Glad to hear it.” He turned her around slowly, sitting up so he could ease her zipper down. Grace peeked at him over her shoulder, a sexy little peek with hungry eyes, and Owen felt his desire grow. He pulled her dress off, urging her out of it, out of everything.
But when he moved to strip off her bra and underwear, she slowed him, turning to face him and cupping his face as she kissed him, long and slow. His heart thumped, pounding against his chest. Then she picked her dress up off the floor and sashayed over to the closet. Owen drank in every movement. The sway of her hips, the swing of her step. When she emerged, the shoes were gone, no doubt lined up in their spot, but the underwear remained.
“You’re overdressed.” Owen reached for her, fingers eager to touch. “Let me help with that.”
But Grace caught his hands, linking her fingers through his as she crawled on top of him, lowering her body to touch his. Owen exhaled and kissed the side of her neck, the strap of her bra, her jaw, her mouth, anywhere he could reach.
“Slow down,” Grace whispered even as her breathing sped up. She rocked against him, the deliberate and measured motion only increasing his need to lose himself within her.
“I can’t.” His voice sounded scratchy, rough with wanting her, wanting nothing between them. He freed one hand and flicked open the clasp on her bra, grateful that gravity helped the garment slide down her arms.
Grace unlinked their hands long enough to take it off and then returned to
her original position. Only now her bare chest rubbed against his. Owen could feel the hard glide of her nipples, the silky plumpness that he longed to fill his hands with.
“Grace.” The rasp was deeper now. “I need you.”
“I’m here. I’m right here.” She kissed the side of his neck, sucked on the skin where it curved into his shoulder, and Owen threw his head back. His body bowed toward her, begging. But she merely continued her careful exploration, keeping their hands tightly clasped together.
Then her mouth was around him, warm and wet and welcoming. Owen closed his eyes and clenched every muscle in his body. “Grace, I won’t be able to—” The words cut off in a sharp gasp. And it was no use thinking about cold showers or football stats or any other trick to reduce the desire barreling through him.
He pulled his hands free, hauled her up against him so he could kiss her silly. His fingers stroked the length of her body, slid up her inner thigh to find her as ready as he was. He wasted no time in grabbing a condom from the nightstand and rolling it on. He felt feverish in his haste, but he couldn’t wait. Not another day or month or second.
She seemed to grasp his rush and didn’t say anything when he maneuvered her back atop him, guiding her legs to straddle his, pressing his hips up to meet her and slide home. “Grace.” Her name was a long inhale of appreciation as she closed around him, all smooth skin and lush curves. And when she began to move, her body bouncing up and down, he felt nearly cross-eyed with wonder.
She was his, all his.
“Owen.” She began to slow her pace, every move taking a touch longer to finish. And there was something in her eyes and on her face, a pained expression.
Owen allowed the rhythm to slow, matching his moves to hers. She blinked and looked down. He lifted a hand to cup her face, nudged up until she looked at him. He was crazy about her, so crazy, and he didn’t like seeing this expression. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
He saw her throat work as she swallowed, but she only shook her head. “Nothing. This is perfect.”
One More Night Page 18