Return to Us

by Corinne Michaels

  “I understand.”

  Even if I hate the idea of sleeping at his place, Amelia needs clean clothes and she’s bored here.

  “Thank you, Jess. I know this isn’t easy for you since you and Gray have history, but . . .”

  “It’s really okay. We’re friends, and this is what friends do.”

  The thunder echoes in the background, punctuating that thought. “I have to go.”

  “Be safe, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Amelia comes rushing in, a big smile on her face. “Are we going to my house?”

  “We are.”

  “Yay!” She jumps up and down. “I can show you all my toys. I have a lot of them because Daddy says I’m cute.”

  And she is. Just then a horn honks, and I grab our bags and hold out my hand. “Ready to go?”

  Delia, the lifesaver she is, came to drive us over so we didn’t have to walk. We get in the car, and I strap Amelia into her booster seat. When I climb into the front, Delia is staring at me, giving me a dubious look.

  “Don’t say a word,” I warn.

  She grins. “What would I even say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nope. Nothing. I have nothing to say about this.”

  “Good. Then say nothing.”

  Delia looks in the rearview mirror. “Do you have anything to say, Melia?”

  Melia smiles. “I love dolls.”

  “Yes, it’s fun to pretend, isn’t it, Jessica?”

  I grit my teeth. “Yes.”

  She continues on. “I like to pretend that my best friend is going to find her prince someday. He’s tall, has dark hair, and the bluest eyes.”

  Amelia perks up. “My daddy has blue eyes.”

  Delia gasps. “He does?”

  “And he’s tall.”

  “Look at that.”

  “So much for not a word,” I say out of the corner of my mouth.

  She ignores me, making a right onto Grayson’s street. “Do you think my friend should tell him she loves him?”

  Amelia nods vigorously. “And she should kiss him!”

  “She should?”

  I want to throw myself from this car. “Kissing boys isn’t a good idea,” I try to inject some reasoning into this asinine conversation.

  “That’s true,” Delia agrees. “I think she might love him, though, and if she does, she should kiss him before his evil mother gives her poison.”

  “Oh Jesus,” I mutter.

  “She has to have a kiss!” Amelia agrees.

  “Yes, because then, maybe my friend will wake up and see what’s really happening.”

  Blessedly, we pull into his driveway and Delia parks. I don’t say anything because I won’t give this conversation another second of my time. I’m not sleeping. I’m fully awake and aware of the truth. This isn’t a fairy tale, and the happy ending isn’t coming my way.

  I look at the log cabin in front of me and try not to think about how I’m going into his home. It’s two floors with huge windows and a wraparound porch on the front. There’s a black tin roof, which I imagine makes rainy nights sound like a lullaby. On the front door, there are three white papers with drawings on them, obviously Amelia’s handiwork.

  I make my way closer with my heart in my throat because this is their life and I’m walking into it.

  Amelia, having the attention span of a four-year-old, rushes to the door, busy telling Delia about her dance class. “And then Mrs. Butler said I have to move my right foot to be in second position, but I don’t like it. Fourth is my favorite, so I wanted to stay there.”

  Delia and I did ballet for years, which is how we became best friends. We both sucked—horribly.

  “You should tell her that you want to wear a purple leotard.”

  “Are you trying to get her thrown out?” I ask.

  “I’m hoping maybe I can drive Mrs. Butler to finally retire.”

  I roll my eyes, find the spare key where Grayson told me it would be, and open the door. “You wear your pink tights and black leotard and don’t listen to a word Delia says.”

  Amelia shrugs and rushes off to what I assume is her room. I take a second and look around. This is his home, where he’s raising a little girl on his own.

  The house is exactly like what we always dreamed of when we looked out at the mountains. It’s a beautiful log cabin with a lot of open space and a huge loft on the second floor. The back wall, though, it’s—incredible. Floor-to-ceiling windows that give you the perfect view of the mountains. Why the hell he came out to our spot I’ll never understand. Here, standing in the middle of the room, I can see the same view.

  Over to the right is the town that is the only light we can see from the lookout. And then, to the left is the mountain peak that looks like a pencil.

  I feel the air leave my lungs in a rush.

  “It’s one hell of a view.” Delia stands beside me.

  There are tears forming in my eyes, the moisture threatening to spill over, and I turn so no one will see. He bought a house on the same side of the mountain, looking out at the view we always loved.

  Then something starts to niggle in the back of my mind. “Delia?”

  “What?”

  “This house . . . has it always been Grayson’s?”

  “Yeah, he had it built. He bought the land years ago, but didn’t do anything with it, then when he and”—she looks around for Melia—“her mother were a thing, he put it on the market but kept rejecting the offers. He built the house right after Amelia was born and she left.”

  I can feel my breathing growing labored. Oh, God. He bought the land. He owns this plot and he owns our spot. “Oh.”

  That’s all I can say as I stare out the windows.

  “Why?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing, it’s just a great view.”

  “Yeah, must be nice to be a Parkerson and buy part of a mountain.”

  I take another few steps, my heart pounding as I get closer. It’s all here. Everything that we shared, the memories, the hopes and dreams whispered into the air—they are all right here. Another tear falls down my cheek as another part of my heart realizes just how much I’m in love with him.

  “Jess,” Grayson’s deep voice sounds so far away even though he’s right here in my arms.

  I don’t want to be woken from this dream.

  Grayson’s scent is around me, his lips are on mine. We’re in our spot where nothing can touch us.

  “Jessica.” His voice is low and sultry. “Love.”

  When he uses the term of endearment, I break. I grab for him, reaching, but he’s not there. I groan, trying to bring him to me. “Gray, please,” I beg. “Please, don’t leave me.”

  I can feel the hesitation raging between us. “Fuck,” he curses, rubbing his nose against mine.

  So close.

  He’s right here.

  “I need you,” I confess.

  He lets out a low grumble that comes from his chest as his forehead rests on mine. “You’re killing me.”

  I run my hands along the stubble on his cheek. “Love me,” I plead.

  “I always have.”

  I smile, loving how he makes me feel. “I’ve always loved you, but I was afraid.”

  Grayson’s fingers run down my jaw before brushing my lips. “Afraid of what?”

  In my dream, I am not afraid to tell him. I close my eyes and the heat of him surrounds me. “Losing you. I never want to lose you.” He lets out a heavy sigh as though I’ve just said something that hurt him. I feel him pulling away, and I clutch at him. “Don’t.”

  “Wake up, love. Wake up.”

  My throat goes dry, and my eyes fly open. He’s there, hovering over me. I’m . . . in a bed that’s not mine.

  Because it’s his. I’m in his bed, and he’s in it too.

  I gasp, and he moves to the side. “I was dreaming?”

  Grayson grips the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

  “Oh, God.” I clasp my hand over my mo
uth.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, God,” I say again, realizing that I was dreaming of . . . him and not the crash. I sit up, my heart pounding. “Do you know what this means?”

  He rubs his forehead and then pinches the bridge of his nose. “That I’m going to be taking a very long, very cold shower after hearing all that?”

  “No! It means I was dreaming of you. Of us. Not the crash. It means that, for the first time in two months, I didn’t have the same horrific nightmare.”

  Happiness feels as though it’s exploding from my body. This is what I imagine a miracle would feel like.

  “You were dreaming when I got in.”

  I move close to him, feeling alive and happy. “Yeah, but I wasn’t dying. I wasn’t literally shaking and hurtling toward the ground at a speed that meant I would never see you . . .”

  His eyes, so close and open, stare into mine, and my heart begins to race. “Is that what you fear?”

  I can feel the heat flame my cheeks, and I nod. Dr. Warvel wanted me to be honest, well, here it goes. “Yes. Even now, you’re here, and I feel like I’m still falling from the sky when we’re close.”

  “You’re not the only one.”

  His confession stuns me. “We’re only going to hurt each other,” I tell him.

  “We’re doing that now anyway.”

  He’s right. This push and pull isn’t good for either of us. We’re lying to ourselves if we think we can keep going in this circle. It’s madness, and we’re failing.

  I scoot closer. “Grayson . . . this house.”

  The sun is rising, bathing the room in beautiful rays of light. On our mountain, nothing can hurt us—at least, that’s what I always believed.

  He closes his eyes and turns away. “I couldn’t let it go, Jess.”

  “Why?”

  He laughs once, turning back to me. “Why do you think?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

  Grayson’s hand runs through the thick brown locks as he lets out a low groan. “You hadn’t been back here in how long? I thought that seeing you wouldn’t matter. If I could spend every fucking day looking out my windows and be okay, then it was fine, right?”

  I’m not sure what he’s saying, but I don’t interrupt.

  “And then you come back. You show up here, broken, beautiful, and not mine to love anymore. You left me. You fucking left me, and I needed to get over you. Now the tree line that stopped hurting years ago is like tiny needles to my heart. The pencil mountain is sharper, mocking me as I look out. The people, the ones we gave fake lives to, are living our future while I sit here, pretending that you being right across the tracks doesn’t matter. I bought this land because it was ours. The memories, the path to that spot, the entire thing was ours.”

  I lift my hand, bringing it to rest on his arm, needing to touch him. “I left you and could never say your name again. I left you and forbid myself to talk about you because, each time I did, it felt like my heart was dying.”

  His hand covers mine, and a million questions dance in his beautiful eyes. I want him to kiss me.

  It took one night in his house to chase the nightmares away. All of it because of him.

  After another minute of silence, his thumb glides along my palm. “You know, we keep ending up in bed or alone. I have always wanted you, Jess. My resistance isn’t this strong.”

  “Maybe we should stop resisting.”

  I do everything I said I wouldn’t but wanted to. I kiss him. Grayson responds immediately, pushing me to the bed, kissing me back while his hands hold my face. He rolls us so I’m on top, and I don’t waste a second. Who knows when one of us will come to our senses or remember that the reason we pull back is because this is stupid.

  I will leave.

  He will stay.

  We will break. That’s the reality.

  However, this kiss is the dream, and I don’t want to wake up.

  He built a house in the place we fell in love, and right now, there’s no way I will pull back from him.

  I moan against his lips and kiss the stubble along his strong jawline. He’s so damn sexy like this. Not perfectly put together, just a man—a very sexy one.

  I nip at his ear and then go back to his mouth. He was my first kiss. My first lover. My first love, and while I’ve spent a good portion of my adult life pretending we were nothing, my body remembers otherwise.

  His deep voice vibrates through me. “You drive me insane. Your mouth, your fucking mouth is everything I remember.”

  He threads his fingers through my hair, tugging our mouths back together. I kiss him, letting my body mold against his.

  “No stopping,” I say.

  “No stopping. I’m going to love you again.”

  I love him now. My legs straddle him, feeling his erection hard between us. I’ve missed this, the way he touches me, bringing me to life in a way only he can.

  My shirt lifts, his rough calluses touching the skin on my back as he pulls it up over my head. The fabric falls to the floor, and then he pulls my sports bra down, palming my breast. God, this feels too good. It’s so right, and I want nothing more than to feel him inside me, filling me with everything I’ve been missing.

  Him.

  My head tips back when his tongue runs around my nipple before he takes it in his mouth. Grayson flicks it a few times, causing the moan coming from my throat to be low and husky.

  “You feel so good,” I say quietly.

  “You feel so right.”

  I look down at him, his wording making my breath hitch. “Gray.”

  “Don’t tell me to stop.”

  I shake my head. “Not this time.”

  If we were somewhere else, I might have the strength, but not here. His bed faces the windows looking out at the vista, and I wonder how he did it. It would’ve destroyed me to be here. Just two seconds was enough to have me crumbling inside. Instead of pretending we never were, Grayson lived in it, surrounding himself in our past.

  He rolls us again, staring at me as he pulls his shirt over his head. “Do you know how many times I wished for this? How often I rolled over, wishing I’d find you next to me? Can you even fathom how looking out at that view every morning drove me crazy? And then you came back. You came here, and fuck, Jess, I can’t push you away again.”

  The deep emotion in his voice breaks me. I want to speak, but I know I can’t because my head is spinning.

  I reach up, pressing my palm to his chest. “Love. We. I. Sorry.”

  What I want to say is: I love you. I’m sorry I left you. I need you, and this is what we always should’ve been—together.

  He leans down. “Don’t say anything. I don’t need the words, love.”

  A tear falls down my face as I nod. He kisses me tenderly, and I pray he can feel everything I wish I could express.

  He pulls back, wiping it away. “Tell me we’re not dreaming.”

  I smile up at him. “We’re not. I would know.”

  The crinkle around his eyes softens as his lips turn up. “You would?”

  I nod. “Kiss me.”

  Right as his lips near mine, a soft sound causes us both to turn our heads. The door creaks open, and then a soft, sleepy voice calls out. “Daddy?”

  Before I can do anything, Grayson turns to the side and I go tumbling to the floor.

  Chapter 19

  Grayson

  Shit. Fuck. Shit.

  Okay, stay calm. First rule of your daughter walking in when you’re about to have sex is don’t freak out, just be cool. “Amelia, you’re awake.” My voice is a bit too high-pitched, so I clear my throat to cover it. “Hi, sweetheart.”

  She rubs her eyes. “You’re home!”

  I grab my shirt, throwing it on quickly and glance down at Jessica, who is doing the same. “I just got here.”

  “Where’s Jessica?” she asks.

  Jessica pops up, pulling her hair into a tie. “I’m here. Hi, Melia. Did you sleep well?”


  Her lips are just the right amount of swollen, and she looks to me nervously, as though I have a clue what to do. This is all new territory for me. The only women who have ever been in this house are my mother and Stella.

  “Why were you on the floor?” Melia asks with her head tilted.

  “She was having a bad dream,” I explain stupidly.

  My very intelligent daughter narrows her eyes. “Did you sleep on the floor?”

  Jessica clears her throat. “When I have bad dreams, sometimes I fall off the bed.”

  Amelia rushes to Jessica. “Are you okay? I have bad dreams too, and Daddy always helps. I don’t fall off the bed, though.”

  Jessica smiles at her and looks to me as I adjust my very uncomfortable erection. “I think I’ll be better soon.”

  I sure as fuck hope soon means tonight when I send Amelia somewhere and don’t have to think about anyone walking in when we pick up where we left off.

  She hops onto the bed, holding her very worn bear by the neck. “You can have Mr. Snuggles.”

  “I can?”

  Melia grins. “I got him when I was just a baby, and he keeps all the bad monsters away.”

  “Well, I couldn’t take him from you then.”

  “We can share him,” she offers.

  “That’s very sweet of you,” Jessica says as she taps her on the nose. “I’m finding that my dreams aren’t so bad anymore.”

  Amelia looks to me. “Did you help Jessica with her bad dream?”

  I want to laugh, but I don’t. “I think so.”

  “Maybe Jessica should sleep in my room, and you can chase the monsters away for her at night.”

  My sweet kid has no idea what I want to do to Jessica at night.

  I change the conversation, thinking of anything other than Jessica, a bed, kissing, or breathing as I keep a pillow very strategically placed.

  “Why don’t you head downstairs and see what I left on the counter,” I suggest.

  Amelia’s eyes pop wide. “Did you bring me a present?”

  “Uncle Alex sent something for you from Savannah, but there’s also something you may want to eat.”

  “Donuts?”