“It’s that, along with a few other things,” I say with a sigh. “It wasn’t right for me to take it out on you, though. I am really sorry.”
“Well, it’s all over now. Let’s drop it.” She pats my arm and heads over to check on the sauce.
“So, why are you guys not with Charlie’s family for Christmas?” I continue, putting the other trays of lasagna in.
“Security. Grayson wanted us here.” She shrugs.
“Sorry,” I offer.
“Stop, it’s okay.” She smiles.
“Grayson’s been a little funny the past couple of days—a bit off, really.” I wipe my hands on a dish towel after placing the last tray in.
“Quite a bit of that going around, aye?” Her arched brow tells me I may be placing high on her shit list.
“What do you mean?” Maybe I’m overreacting.
“Your behavior with Ray. You know, you are engaged to my nephew.” She’s flat. I’m definitely not overreacting. Not only am I high on her list, but I fear my name may be highlighted as well.
“I know who I’m engaged to,” I say under my breath.
“Oh ... well, maybe things have changed since my day. Used to be when you were engaged to one man, you wouldn’t have your tongue down another man’s throat!”
“Hazel!” I gasp.
“Don’t ‘Hazel’ me! I have to tell you, Becca, I’ve about had enough of you hurting Grayson!” She slams the lid back down onto the sauce.
“I’m not trying to hurt him. I love him, Hazel.”
“Could’ve fooled me!” she yells, then storms out of the kitchen, leaving me and my guilty conscience to myself. Yep, I should’ve stayed in bed today! I set the timer and head out to the lounge. I find Grayson and Morgan laughing on the couch.
“What’s so funny, guys?” I smile at them.
“Oh, nothing, Becca.” Grayson clears his throat.
“Daddy, c’mon. It’s Becs ... baby.” Morgan imitates Ray.
“Morgan!” I smack the back of the couch near their heads. “Ray put so much time and thought into your Christmas gift to show you how much he cares about you, and you’re making fun of him?” I yell.
“Whoa, Becca, calm down!” Grayson raises his voice to me.
“No! She’s been nothing but completely disrespectful toward him!” I have to defend my reaction. “He’s only tried to help me take care of her for the past five years! He’s been good to you, Morgan!” I am definitely flirting with overreaction now. I can’t even stop myself. “Considering all of the shit I’ve put him through, he’s been an awesome dad to you!”
“That’s enough!” Grayson stands up and yells in my face. “You are overreacting, Becca!”
He’s so right.
“Morgan.” I look over at her. She’s crying. “Excuse me,” I say to Grayson so he’ll move out of my way. I walk up to her and hug her. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m a little nutsy today.”
“Mom, I was just joking with Daddy. I wasn’t ... I love Ray, Mom. I know he tries. I love the gift he gave me. I know he worked hard on it.”
Sometimes I feel like she is fifteen instead of almost eleven.
“I know, Morgy. I am sorry. I’m not myself today.” I kiss her face and hold her against me. I’m sorry, I mouth to Grayson. He shakes his head and looks away, then grabs his coat and heads outside. “Excuse me, Morgan. I need to talk to Daddy.” I rub her arms before I fetch my coat as well. The cold air hits my face as I walk out. It’s refreshing and brisk. Snow is lightly dusting the ground.
“We’re supposed to get six to eight inches tonight,” Grayson says, his back turned to me. I walk up to him, wrap my arms around his waist, and hug him from behind.
“I feel as if our roles have been reversed.” I lean my forehead against his back.
“What do you mean, sweetheart?” He’s barely audible.
“It used to be you saying I’m sorry all the time. It’s a terrible feeling to always be apologizing.” I turn him to me. “What can I do? What can I say besides those two words that are becoming quite irritating to hear?” I play with the stubble on his chin.
“Becca, I told you what I need. I haven’t gotten it yet.” I can feel his frustration.
“I’m trying.” I play with the buttons on his coat. He grabs my hands to stop them.
“It’s simple, Becca. Full focus on me! No mention of Ray! No thoughts of Ray! I’m asking now the same thing I’ve been asking for two days. So far, you have failed to deliver! Do you think you can manage the rest of the day and tomorrow? I am trying so hard to be patient with you, and you are not making it very easy.” His eyes are closed as if he’s trying to muster the strength not to blow up at me.
“You’re doing a great job,” I offer, instead of apologizing.
“Becca, damn it!” He throws my hands down.
“Okay, okay! I’m not doing this on purpose!”
Grayson palms my face.
“I love you, Becca. I love you with every fiber of my being. This is killing me, sweetheart. Please! One day of just our family ... that’s all I want.” His lips softly caress mine. I lean up on my toes and allow him to deepen the kiss.
“Hey, let’s grab Morgan and take a walk in the snow.” I smile up at him.
“Now ... that ... sounds like a lovely idea.” He offers me a few more pecks.
We head inside to grab Morgan and our boots. With Morgan’s hands in each of ours, we take off to the left past the stables and barn.
“Hey, baby, where’s the detail?” I look around. Nobody is with us.
“We’re fine, love. They’re watching.” He smiles down at Morgan as he swings her arm with a bit of exaggeration.
“Where? I don’t see them.” I look around harder.
“Becca, we’re safe! Stay focused.” From the look on his face, I decide it’s best not to push it. It’s so pretty and peaceful out here.
“Look at the trees, Gray. They’re like a painting.” I point at the limbs, heavy with snow. It is quite the sight. My admiration of God’s beauty is short-lived, though, as a snowball lightly explodes against my cheek. My jaw drops, and I hear Grayson and Morgan having a good laugh at me. “Oh ... it is so on!” I announce, and wipe off my face before I squat down to retrieve some snow. A full-blown snowball fight ensues. The three of us run around chasing each other, laughing and carrying on. I stop and have a “smell the roses” moment as we collapse to the ground. They start making snow angels. I take my phone out and snap a few pictures before I join them. Grayson reaches above Morgan’s head. My hand meets his and our frozen fingers lace together.
“There’s my girl.” He smiles at me, a full-wattage Grayson James smile. My heart leaps as I commit his smile to memory. It’s one of those moments that bring tears to your eyes. Maybe it’s because you are aware of the sweet memory you are making—who knows?
“Sir.” Derek clears his throat.
“Yes, Derek?” Grayson leans up on his elbows.
“Your aunt wanted me to tell Mrs. James that her timer went off.”
“Shit!” I jump up. “Thanks, Derek!” I pat his arm and run toward the house.
“You’re welcome, Mrs. James!”
“Becca! Careful, darling—don’t fall!” Grayson calls after me. Of course, I slip at that moment, but catch myself and chuckle as Grayson yells obscenities behind me.
I go in through the store and strip off my scarf, coat, and boots. I give myself one final shake to release any snow that may have ended up in an unusual place. I run into the kitchen to find Hazel already pulling trays out. I grab serving bowls and spoons for the sauce, sausage, and meatballs.
“I already cut the bread intp halves. We just need to put the garlic butter on and get them in the oven.” She points to the bread. Guess I’ll do that ... since she’s pointing and all!
“Can I help with anything?” Stacey pipes up. I turn and take in the sight of her. She’s looking well ... more like herself.
“Do you want to help me with th
e bread?” I pull out the garlic butter.
“Sure, Becs.” She pulls up a stool to sit at the island, then grabs the tub of garlic butter out of my hands and pulls the plastic seal off. I offer her a butter knife.
“Thanks.” She takes it, then reaches out and squeezes my hand quickly. “Merry Christmas, Becca. I’m sorry.” Her eyes fill up. I cover her hand with mine.
“Merry Christmas.” I squeeze her hand back. We finish up, and I have Melissa call everyone to dinner.
The dining room is buzzing with thirty-two people. From the looks of it, everyone is enjoying themselves and the meal.
“People watching, sweetheart?” Grayson asks, and nudges me. I smile up at him. He knows that I do this quite often to take everything in. I look back down at my plate and fight the urge to think about the McNeils, what they’re up to, and how Ray is handling our first Christmas apart. Usually when something is bothering him, he’s pretty quiet at mealtime—either rushing or barely focusing. He’ll smile through small talk, but mostly he’ll stare at his glass of whatever he’s drinking.
“Mom!” Morgan yells, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“What? Sorry.” I shake my head.
“Where were you?” she asks.
“I know exactly where she was.” Grayson’s nose is flaring. I place my hand on his leg to say sorry, but he grabs it and whips it off.
“I was saying we should call Susanna and Sam after dinner, Mom.”
“Yes, absolutely!” I agree cheerfully.
“Becca, everything tastes incredible.” Stacey sits down with her second helping.
“Thanks! I agree. It’s been a while since I’ve had something incredible in my mouth.” I say, keeping my face straight and nudging Grayson.
“Shut up!” He tries to be stern, but a smile breaks through the barrier. He finds my knee and squeezes gently. I lean my head on his shoulder.
“I can’t wait to give you your gifts tonight.” I pat the top of his hand.
“Yes, I can’t wait either.” He kisses my forehead.
Cleaning up would be more of a breeze if there weren’t thirty people trying to help me!
“Less is more, people!” I announce. “I appreciate all the help, but it may go smoother if we split into two teams! Half of you help with dinner, and the other half can do dessert. That way, we’re not all on top of each other,” I say. Everyone makes a quick decision and half of the room retires elsewhere, while the rest of us clean up and get ready for dessert.
“Becca, it’s for you.” Claudia hands me the phone. It must be my aunt and uncle. Shit, I usually call them in the morning.
“Merry Christmas!” I answer.
“How was dinner, baby?” It’s Ray. Shit!
“I ... I can’t really talk right now.” I look around, searching for Grayson.
“Becs, baby, please ... I can’t do this. This is too hard.”
I can hear the pain in his voice.
“I’ll see you before I leave.” I try to keep calm.
“I won’t let you leave!” he snaps. Grayson pulls the phone away from me.
“Goodbye, Raymond!” he yells, and hangs up.
“Grayson, I didn’t know it was him.” I grab his arms.
“I know. Just ... forget it.” He throws the phone onto the counter. “Come now, we’re all getting cozy for a movie.” He takes my hands.
“What movie?” I walk with him and ignore the ringing phone.
“White Christmas, I believe.”
“Oh, Stacey must’ve picked it. That’s her favorite.” We head to the lounge. Stacey saved two seats next to her on the couch.
“Hey,” she says, and leans over to whisper in my ear. “Ray is blowing up my phone. What do you want me to do?” At that moment, I realize my best friend is truly back.
“Tell him I said to bugger off!” Grayson says angrily.
“What do you have—bionic ears?” Stacey asks him.
“Yeah, something like that.” He sighs and puts his arm around me. I shrug my shoulders at her and she begins to text Ray. She shows Grayson, then turns her phone off and puts it aside when he nods. I guess she’s back on Team Grayson. Or, maybe she’s just back on Team Becca, the only team she should be on. We all sit back and watch the movie. Of course, Stacey and I lip-synch the words to “Sisters.” We haven’t done that in a long time!
Before we know it, Bing Crosby is singing “White Christmas.” I get up and go to the kitchen to turn the coffee on and get the cold stuff out of the fridge. Grayson walks in a few minutes later and scans the room.
“What’s the matter?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he murmurs, giving me a half smile. I continue to look at him curiously. “What can I help you with, love?” He stands over the desserts, waiting for my orders.
“Um, take that tray and set it out on the buffet. I’ll grab this one.” I load it into his arms and grab the other. We head out to the dining room and the “Dessert Crew” jump into action. I’m actually glad there are so many people here, or I would be getting ridiculous with all this dessert!
It’s seven o’clock and I’m ready to go into a food coma. Ray and I usually nap between dinner and dessert. Not on purpose, but we always fall asleep on the couch. That didn’t happen this year. No Ray ... no nap.
“Tired, sweetheart?” Gray wraps his arms around me from behind. I yawn and nod at the same time. “Aunt Hazel, will you make sure Morgan gets into bed? We’re going to retire early.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Stacey offers.
“Thanks, Stace.” I hug her before I give Morgan a kiss. We say good night to everyone else and head toward the stairs. Grayson hooks my arm around his neck and picks me up to carry me up them. “Gray.” I laugh. “Put me down.”
“Nope, I intend on pampering you tonight, sweetheart.” He kisses my lips and carries on.
“Well, you won’t be able to do this much longer.” I smirk and pat my belly.
“I know.” He sighs with a hint of sadness.
“What is it, baby?” I touch his cheek.
“Nothing, Becca.” He puts me down and launches into his usual grumbles over having to always unlock our bedroom door. We should be in a normal house, not living at the inn.
“Two more days, baby, and we’ll be back at the ranch. You won’t have to unlock our bedroom door—unless you piss me off, of course.” I rub his back and pat at it as he walks in.
“Bath, darling?” He turns to me and closes the door behind us.
“Nah, not tonight.” I shake my head.
“Well then, let’s get comfy and open gifts, shall we?” He clasps his hands together.
“Sounds like a plan.” I go to my PJ drawer.
“Uh, I’ll pick it out, thank you very much.” He pushes me to the side gently.
“I thought you said comfy.” I bite my smile back.
“Yes, not frumpy, dear.” He opens the drawer. I shrug and go to retrieve his special, just-between-us Christmas Eve gifts. When I look back, I notice he’s picked a camisole and shorts for me.
“Gray, those are for summer.”
“Honestly, sweetheart, within an hour ... you’ll be in far less than this.” He tugs at the hem of my shirt. I lay his gifts on the bed and raise my arms so he can pull my shirt up and over my head. He slides his hands down my shoulders to my upper chest, then covers my breasts before reaching around back to unhook my bra. “I think you’ll be quite warm in this for now, seeing as you’re already getting overheated.” A slow, sexy smirk crosses his lips and I take notice of my erratic breathing. Damn it! He tosses my bra to the side. With his fingers, he traces the area just above the waist of my jeans. I close my eyes, intoxicated by his touch. I feel the tug of my button and hear him undoing my zipper. I open my eyes to find him kneeling in front of me. His hands hook under my jeans and panties and he slides them down. I hold onto his shoulders to brace myself as I step out of them.
“You are so very lovely, sweetheart.” He sits back on his hee
ls to admire me, then leans forward again to caress my growing belly with his lips.
“Did you just make yourself sound extra British?” I giggle.
“I’m pulling out all of the stops tonight, darling.” He chuckles at himself as well. “Come now. Let’s get you dressed so I can do this again in a bit.” He holds out my shorts. I step in and match his smile as he pulls them up. He stands and grabs my camisole. I lift my arms, and he slides it on. “There you are, baby.” He chucks my chin and plants a swift kiss on my lips.
“Your turn.” I grab his shirt and pull it over his head. I run my hands up his chest as I leave a trail of kisses along his sternum. I trace the outline of his abdominal muscles with my index finger and rest my other hand on his belt buckle. “Hmm ... feeling overheated, baby?” I tease as his breathing also shifts.
“Always, sweetheart, whenever you’re around me.” He palms my cheek, his thumbs caressing it as he pulls my face to his. “Becca,” he whispers before his lips find mine.
“Patience, Mr. James.” I pull back and unhook his belt. He tries to steady his breathing. After I work at his zipper, I guide his jeans down at the same pace that he guided mine. “Hmm.” I graze my knuckles over the bulging area of his boxer briefs. “I think something incredible may be happening here, Mr. James.”
“Becca, sweetheart, I think I should finish here or we will never get to other things.” He moves my hand away. I plop onto the bed and watch him, delighted with myself and the effect I have on him, as he walks over to his drawer and grabs PJ bottoms. “Now,” he practically jumps onto the bed, “who shall go first?” He looks at the gifts eagerly. He couldn’t hide his curiosity and excitement if he tried!
“Um, well, this has to be last.” I hold up the small box.
“Hmm, great things come in small packages.” He tries to grab it, but I’m prepared and am much quicker.
“No, no ... be patient!” I wave my finger at him and place the package behind my back.
“All right, which can I have first, then?” He holds up the two other packages.
“Open that one.” I smile. He puts the wrapped album down and begins to unwrap the clothing box.
“This better not be a tie, sweetheart,” he teases. He yanks the top off, digs beneath the tissue paper, and goes into hysterics. “You’re bloody fucking mad!” He laughs as he pulls his torn purple pants out of the box. He stands up and holds them to himself. “Did they come like this, or did you do it?”
Goodbye Secrets Page 34