The Calamity Falls Box Set

by Erika Kelly

  Gray dropped the blanket and was at her side in three long strides. “Hey.”

  She waved a hand. “I’m good. I didn’t mean to go off on you like that. It’ll work out.” Lifting both mugs, she started out of the kitchen. “Let’s go.”

  But he blocked her. “You’re not alone.”

  “I know.” She tried to push past him.

  He tipped her chin. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

  Sweetheart? No one in her entire life had called her that term of endearment.

  “You’re not alone.”

  “I know that. Come on. Let’s go outside. It’s a nice night.” Actually, it was freezing.

  Still, he didn’t budge. “We’re in this together.”

  The knot in her throat tightened, cutting off her ability to speak, so she just nodded.

  His cupped the back of her head. “I’m going to wrap us up in that blanket, and we’re going to look at the moonlight on the mountain, and we’re going to talk about every little thing that’s on your mind.”

  Hot tea splashed over the rim, and Gray pried the mugs out of her hands, setting them on the counter, all while talking in his low, growly voice. “Every worry and doubt and concern, and when we’re done, if you don’t have the peace you’re looking for, we’ll go to bed, I’ll love every inch of your beautiful body, and we’ll wake up and talk it through some more.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks, the tension banding so tightly around her head, she thought it would pop like a boiled cranberry.

  “We won’t stop until we’ve worked it all out.” Gently, he ran his fingers through her hair. “And when the next obstacle comes, we’ll work it out together. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Even when I’m in New Zealand, I’m still going to be here with you.”

  She couldn’t see him through the sheen of tears.

  “Want to know why?”

  Somehow the answer to that question meant everything to her.

  “Because I’ve waited a long damn time to be with you, and there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to lose you. I’m going to do everything I can to earn your respect and love. So, if there’s nothing else you can be sure of right now, there’s this. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, and that means you’re never going to be alone again.”

  Her knees buckled, and she let out a strangled cry. Hot tears flooded her cheeks, and her body crumpled. Thanks to Gray and his reflexes, he caught her elbows, keeping her from hitting the floor. Lowering them both, he wrapped an arm around her. She drew up her knees and hid her face between them. She couldn’t stop the tears or the choking sounds.

  Gray hauled her onto his lap, arranging her limp and useless limbs so that she straddled him. She tucked her face into his neck and just wailed.

  He didn’t shush her, didn’t beg her to stop crying, didn’t even ask what he could do to help. He just held her while she sobbed. Her brain was nothing but white noise, her emotions at such an extreme pitch she couldn’t make sense of them.

  Her stomach muscles ached, her skull weighed two tons, and yet every tear that flooded out of her seemed to carry the weight of one worry, one fear, one ounce of anxiety, until…she’d emptied her body of all of it. It was like she’d spent all the pain and loss built up over a lifetime, leaving her deflated as an old balloon. She drew in a shuddering breath and dragged the back of her hand across her leaking nose.

  “Sexy.” Cupping her bottom, he effortlessly lifted them both. “Here.” He snatched a couple of paper towels off the dispenser and handed them to her, lowering them back to the floor.

  Blowing her nose, she patted the dampness off her face. Her body felt bruised and battered, as if she’d been jumped in an alley, but her mind felt a thousand times lighter. “So, that happened.”

  “You do everything next level, including breaking down.”

  “Thank you?” She let out a long, slow breath. “When I was a little girl, I used to jump out of bed, get dressed, and get ready for whatever my mom said we were going to do that day. But, most of the time, she didn’t wake up until it was too late to go. She worked late, she was tired, she’d had friends over. Whatever. And there just came a day when I didn’t believe her anymore.”

  “You haven’t had many people you could rely on.”

  “But I can rely on you. And I think…all that…” She motioned to her face. “Was because I trust you. I trust you enough to fall to pieces in front of you.”

  “I like that, sweetheart. I like it very fucking much.”

  Leaving their tea behind, they headed outside. Gray wrapped the comforter around himself and sat down first, then drew her down onto his lap.

  She snuggled in, before taking in the wide Wyoming sky, ablaze with glittering stars. “Do you remember that Etch-a-Sketch I had? You used to write me secret messages on it?”

  “Of course.”

  She caressed his bottom lip. He was such a handsome man. “You made me shake it immediately after reading, so no one would see it.”

  “So Robert wouldn’t see it.” He grabbed her wrist and pressed a kiss to the tip of her finger.

  “You guys were so freaking competitive.”

  “I wasn’t competitive with him.” He stroked the hair away from her temples. “I just wanted what he had. There’s a difference.”

  She glanced up at him and saw the worry tightening his handsome features. If she’d known he felt this way back then, would she have broken up with Robert earlier? Not a chance. Not only would she never have believed it, they couldn’t have betrayed Robert’s trust like that.

  He gave her a gentle nudge. “The Etch-a-Sketch.”

  “Right. Well, I took pictures of every message you ever made me.”

  He shot her a look.

  “I did. And I printed them at CVS and saved them. Every single one. They’re in a box under the bed. You had a way of saying just the right thing. Like, I don’t know if you remember—”

  “I remember everything.”

  Drinking in the sincerity in his eyes, she ran her fingers through his scruff. “This one day I was walking to my locker between fourth and fifth periods, and I could see it’d been pried open. I wasn’t going to be that stupid girl who opened it only to find a dead rat or whatever. So, I went to the office and told them about it, told them I wanted someone to come with me and to bring the janitor. The saddest thing was that they didn’t even hesitate. It wasn’t like, Oh, come on drama queen. No, Mrs. Andretti got her SWAT team together, and we marched over to my locker, all of us totally geared up for something terrible. And, lo and behold, those assholes had filled it with garbage from the cafeteria. And I mean, fresh bits of hamburger and pudding, fish sticks. It was disgusting.”

  He lowered his head and let out a harsh breath.

  “You drove me home that day. We had hot chocolate and hung out and, after you left, I went back to my bedroom and found your note. And, the thing is, you never said stuff like, Keep your chin up or…don’t listen to those idiots. You never addressed the bullies at all.” She reached for his hand, threading their fingers together. “You never gave them power.”

  “What’d I write?”

  “You drew a picture of a dress—a pretty lame one, if you ask me.” She gave him a teasing smile.

  “It was the medium.”

  “Ah, so if it had been paper, you’d have sketched a masterpiece?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “You probably would have, Mr. Good-at-Literally-Everything. Anyhow, beneath the dress, you wrote my name. But you didn’t spell it out. K-N-O-X. You made it like my signature. And underneath you wrote in parentheses, This is going to be worth a fortune one day.”

  He grinned. “I meant your autograph, not my sketch.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m a lot quicker than I look. The point is that, on a truly shitty day, you made me smile because I knew you meant I’d be a famous designer one day.” She shifted so she could face him. “You didn’t tell me not to worry about those idiots. You made me focu
s on the future. On the talent I could rely on to get me out of here. You always made me feel like I had value.” She showed him her inked bracelet of tiny stars. “That’s where this came from.”

  He brought her wrist to his mouth and kissed it. “You mean I reminded you of your value.”

  “Yes. Exactly.” She clasped his hand tightly. “I never dreamed I could be with a guy like you.”

  “Knox.” He let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t want to be some ideal.”

  “No, I know. I don’t mean it like that. Well, I kind of do. Because, back then, you were an ideal. Every time I went to your house, I felt like I didn’t belong. Like your dad would pull you aside and go, What’s she doing here? You’re the best man I’ve ever known, and I didn’t think I could have the best guy. I thought—I guess subconsciously—that I could only have someone more like me.”

  “Do you mean a guy who doesn’t let life knock him down? Who doesn’t let other people define him? A talented guy who makes shit happen? Because that’s what my dad saw—that’s what anyone who knows you sees.”

  “It’s funny how different people show you different facets of yourself. I never saw myself the way you see me.”

  “I will gladly hold your mirror.”

  “Ugh, not after tonight’s ugly cry. God, I can’t even remember the last time I lost it like that.”

  “Pretty sure you’ve been in crisis mode your whole life.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You spent a lot of your childhood alone in that trailer, and I’ve been in there. Those sounds are creepy. Trucks roaring past, wind making it creak. Remember that night you called me because a pack of wolves was howling?”

  She did. That had been terrifying.

  “You never knew when the bullies would strike or whether your boyfriend was sober. There wasn’t much about your life you could control. You moved to New York City and Paris by yourself, spent a year making dresses alone in a house on Maui, knowing that your ability to support yourself rested on your shoulders. I’m going to guess you spent every day worried about whether you’d finish in time or not have anything good enough to show.”

  “I did.” For a moment the truth shone so brightly it blinded her, so that all she could do was live inside the rightness of it. “My whole life, everything has seemed critical, every problem life or death. You’re right. I have been in crisis mode.”

  “And I think—I hope—for the first time tonight, you get that you’re not alone anymore.” He drew her so tight against him nothing could get between them. “Maybe that allowed you to break down a little.”

  “I didn’t scare you away?”

  “I’m thinking you’re not grasping the situation. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to see me for who I am.”

  “And who’s that?”

  “The one who carries your heart.”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Heat, lust…his body burned, his hips lifted off the mattress. More, deeper. Jesus Christ, he was so hard, so ready to burst.

  Gray awakened to the slide of silky hair across his stomach, the firm caress of soft hands on his bare skin, and the sensation of a hungry mouth sucking his cock.

  That scent in the sheets—sweet, lightly floral, all Knox—sent him to a place he’d never been. He reached beneath the sheets, his hands tangling in silky hair, and it hit him.

  Knox. He got the girl.

  I fucking got the girl.

  Her hand squeezed the base of his cock, tugging in tandem with her sucking mouth, her tongue flicking and pulling.

  “Fuck.” Too good. His body tightened, his legs went rigid. He was going to come, and there wasn’t a chance he’d do that anywhere else but inside her body.

  “Come here.” His voice sounded gruff, almost mean, as he jackknifed up, grabbed under her arms, and hauled her up the bed.

  She straddled his hips, her hands sweeping up his torso and across his chest. When she leaned over, the tips of her hair brushed over his skin. A soft yellow light flicked on. “I want to see you.”

  She took him in, his eyes, mouth, shoulders. Setting her palms on his chest, she fanned out her fingers, digging into his skin. “I can’t believe I get to touch this body.”

  “You get all of me, Knox. You understand? All of me.”

  He didn’t like the trepidation in her eyes, but he could deal with it. They’d had a breakthrough last night. She’d let him in. Time. He just needed more time with her.

  With a hand on her lower back, his hip pitched forward, knocking her over. He was glad she’d turned on the light, because he got to see the thrill in her eyes, the greedy desire that had her hands clutching his ass and jerking him to her.

  Reaching between them, he gripped his cock, rubbed the slick length of her with it, and then pushed in. He fucking loved the sultry look in her eyes as he did it, the arch of her neck, the sexy gasp. Loved the way her fingers curled into his flesh.

  Yeah, time. That’s what he needed.

  Time to make her believe in them.

  Knox slammed the nightstand drawer closed after checking it a third time. Dropping to her knees, she scanned under the bed. Fear had her heart pounding. Maybe the patio? It was the only place she hadn’t looked yet.

  Please tell me I didn’t leave my sketchbook outside overnight.

  The bathroom door opened, expelling whorls of steam, and then Gray strode out fully naked. Time screeched to a stop as she took him in. Smooth, tan skin covered the tightly defined muscles on his torso, and the black ink and shoulder-length wet hair made him look deliciously bad. He snatched his running shorts off the floor and stepped into them.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t spend the night.”

  His brow furrowed adorably. Like she’d suggested he wear her bra.

  She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “You should be at the training facility by now. Your house is closer to the gym…your clothes are there…I mean, I already take up too much of your time.”

  “I want to spend the night.” He sounded affronted. “So I can give you a good morning kiss.”

  It still knocked her on her ass, Gray Bowie saying sweet things. “Also, you should go to a doctor, find out who’s inhabiting your body.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re this buff, brawny athlete. You talk about barrels and pipe, dropping in and triple rotations. You don’t talk about ‘good morning kisses.’” Then again…maybe he did. “Unless you’re this sweet and romantic with all the women you sleep with.”

  “You’re gonna do that?”

  “Do what?”

  He grabbed her hips and pulled her toward him. “Reduce us to some casual hookup.”

  “No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I was a mess last night, and this morning I can’t find my sketchbook. In other words, I’m feeling insecure.” She held out her arms. “Just give me that morning kiss so you can forget all about the dumb things I say.”

  “Good, because I sacrificed clean underwear for it.”

  He came at her like a man on a mission, eyes on her mouth, intention clear. Her pulse quickened—anticipation of his touch and…fear.

  Fear of all the unknowns in her life right now—her career, the show, and knowing she was falling hard for a man she didn’t know how she could possibly keep.

  But then he caught her around the waist and hauled her to his hot, damp body. “Gonna kiss all those doubts right out of your head.” He claimed her mouth, teased it open with his hungry tongue, and let her know just how much he wanted her.

  His body went hot, his cock hard between them. Need sizzled and snapped, making her crazy to get closer, feel him deeper. Swallow me whole.

  But he had to train, and she couldn’t become a problem for him. She gently eased back, giving him a few more soft kisses. “You should go. Fin’s waiting for you.”

  “Yep. I should.” He grabbed his crumpled T-shirt off the bedframe. “You said you lost your sketchbook? Which one?”

 
“Fortunately, not the one with Callie and Delilah’s dresses. It’s the one for the next collection I’m working on. I hate that it’s gone missing. I had some really good ideas in there.”

  Hands on his hips, he scanned the room. “You remember where you last saw it?”

  “I take it with me everywhere, but when I come home, I always put it on the kitchen counter.” She saw the way he looked at her nightstand. “Trust me, I’ve turned this whole place upside down.”

  “Could’ve been boxed up already.” They’d hired a couple ranch workers to pack up the supplies and machinery. “Want me to get the guys back? We can open them up and look through them.”

  She smiled. He always made everything better just by caring so much. “I can wait until we move into the new space. I just don’t like not knowing where it is. It’s got some of my best dresses ever.”

  “Must be the mountain air. Or, more likely, the spectacular sex.”

  “There is something very inspiring about good sex. It really opens the creative channels.”

  “Good sex?” His head popped out of the T-shirt’s neckline.

  “Well, of course, it’s subjective, right? What’s spectacular for one person could just be meh for someone else.”

  “Meh?”

  “Sure. Think of it like a scale.” She held up her palm. “You’ve got one for I Should’ve Just Pretended to be Asleep.” She lifted the other. “All the way to eight for Holy Cow I Think I’ve Gone Blind.”

  “Why does the scale stop at eight? That’s random.”

  “Not everyone can hit the higher notes, you know? But I’m very happy at eight. I’m sure we’ll get there at some point. I have faith in you.”

  With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he bent over and rushed her, tackling her onto the mattress. “I don’t enter competitions I don’t think I can win.” Reaching under her blouse, he skimmed his rough, calloused hand up her stomach and then cupped her breast.