I wait until she’s gone, snatch the damn envelope, and toss it in the trash bin before unlocking the door to my cabin. My hand balls into a fist and I lose control, punching the door to the bathroom.
I press my palms against it and bow my forehead, trying to breathe. To think.
The space is too tight down here, and I’m losing oxygen. I need to walk, to get out of here.
I go to the drawer by my bed, grab a small box, and head back up to the deck. I snap the blue box open and look at my wedding band inside. I shake my head, close my eyes, then toss it into the water before heading back into the New York night.
The city is a blur. Lights. People. The noise.
My hands are tucked in my pockets as I move in a total state of numbness. I have no idea where I’m going, but I need to keep moving.
After an hour of wandering the city, I slow when I realize where I am. I look up at the tall glass building, wondering if Grace is home.
Thinking about her and the kiss last night is the distraction I need right now. Anything to lessen the pain in my chest. It’s as if a tight knot’s inside, right by my heart, and two people are on each side of it, playing tug-of-war. At some point, the rope will snap.
I cup my jaw as I step back and sit on a bench near the bus stop a couple feet from Grace’s home. My palms go to my thighs, and I rub them, trying to absorb the shock, to reel in my emotions so I can calm the hell down.
“Noah?”
I glance up as Grace’s eyes find mine. She’s just stepped out of a cab.
Her forehead pinches in surprise, and she moves toward me. “Is something wrong?”
The woman is simply stunning. A white sleeveless dress stops above her knees, and tall black heels show off her killer legs.
I think my body brought me here on auto pilot. I needed to see someone good after being around Cindy. I stand, scratching the side of my head as I try to drag up some lame excuse for my presence. “I was on a walk, and I ended up here.”
“Oh. Um, you want to come up?” There’s hesitation in her voice, but I could be off my game of reading people right now.
“Sure.” This isn’t what I should be doing. But what the hell do I know anymore?
She smiles, and I follow her inside. I say hi to the security guard I’ve gotten to know a little these past few days. He’s a good guy. A vet. Served in Nam.
Once we’re in the elevator, I take a breath, and with it, her perfume drifts into my nose. It’s not like Cindy’s. It’s light and sweet, like vanilla. Everything about this woman is refreshing.
But I’m a fool when it comes to women apparently. None of my buddies ever liked Cindy. They didn’t tell me while we were together, but damn, the truth came out after they heard of our separation. They fucking hated her. They could see what I couldn’t, I guess. Love is supposedly blind. Like justice. Sure…
“How was your dinner with Luke and Jess?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks develop a soft blush, and she looks up and our eyes meet. “It was okay.”
Maybe my radar isn’t off because I can tell she’s had her own shitty night. “What’s wrong?”
Her eyes narrow. “How do you know something’s wrong?”
I step closer to her as the elevator ascends. “You wear your emotions on your sleeves.” I smile as I look at her bare, toned arms. “Well, your arms.”
When she returns my smile, her eyes light up. Like a bolt of lightning, the energy shifts inside me, and my anger calms.
“I never did before,” she says as the doors open.
“Before what?”
She doesn’t answer because a man is standing on the opposite side.
“Hi, Evan.” She nods while getting out of the elevator.
The man’s eyes rake over every inch of her body. He’s fucking her in his head. It’s obvious. I notice the flash of gold on his ring finger. Figures.
“Good evening.” He looks my way, assessing me as if I’m competition before finally walking past me and into the elevator.
“Nice guy,” I note with an obvious sarcasm as we walk.
“Yeah, but his wife probably disagrees,” she says as she retrieves the key from her bag.
We go inside her place, and I follow her down the hall into the living area. My supplies are all over the space, and I’m sure she’s anxious for me to be done.
“So.” I fold my arms and lean against the wall facing the kitchen as she goes to the fridge and grabs two beers. “You going to tell me what happened tonight?”
She pops both tops and guzzles her beer, which has me straightening in surprise. She lowers the bottle and coughs a little while blinking. “Nothing we need to talk about.” She swipes her lips with the back of her hand.
I hesitantly take the beer she’s offering. I didn’t notice it when we were on the streets, but her eyes are a little red. Either she’s been crying or drinking. I’m guessing the latter. This is my cue to back up and leave, because in my current state, I may not make the best decisions. Clearly, she may not either.
My mouth is dry, though, so I take a sip and ignore my brain. “Did someone say something to upset you tonight?” I’m pushing, and I don’t know why.
She sets her bottle on the counter and bends forward, her cleavage on display as she unbuckles the little straps by her ankles. I can’t tear my eyes away, and my body stirs. Unlike the woman at the bar tonight, who didn’t evoke any feelings inside me, Grace can make me hard with a simple look.
She stands back up and catches my eyes on her, and I can’t look away or feel bad about it. All I can think about is how her body felt against mine last night and how her mouth tasted. Sweet as sin.
She unties her hair, releasing the mass, and it hangs straight down just above her breasts.
“I’ve had a bad night. I should probably go.” It took every ounce of strength inside me to string those words together.
I set my bottle down as Grace’s fingers sweep across her collarbone and travel up to her throat. Her hand remains there as her eyes hold mine. “I’m supposed to stay away from you.”
Is she saying that because of what I told her?
But she takes a small step closer and her mouth parts. “But if I’m being honest—like you do with me—I’m glad I saw you outside my place tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see someone. I don’t know what that means.”
And I can’t stop myself.
I reach for her hand and tug her against me. Her palms land on my chest, and I know she can feel my heart racing as she looks into my eyes. I stare at her for a moment, trying to convince myself not to kiss her. But I fail.
I slowly lower my mouth over hers, and a soft mewl escapes her lips, which has me deepening the kiss. She stumbles back against the counter, and I lift her onto it.
I brace my hands on each side of her, and she leans forward, cupping the back of my neck, pulling me closer—taking over, her tongue finding the inside of my mouth, and it’s me who’s damn near growling this time.
My hand shifts to the strap of her dress, and I slip it off as I kiss her neck now, working my way down to her shoulder. Her head tips back as my other hand goes to her thigh, sliding up her smooth leg. I stop just shy of her panties, refraining from my desire to rip them off and stroke her clit.
“Touch me.” Her mouth is at my ear, her breath warm. Her hands land on my jeans, and she’s working at the button as my mouth claims hers again.
But I don’t touch her where she wants—she’s been drinking, and I can’t take advantage of her.
I gather all my strength and finally take her wrist, stopping her before she unzips my pants. I don’t have that much restraint. I step back and find her eyes. “We can’t.”
I watch her chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. Her cheeks blossom crimson as she bows her head, and I feel like such an asshole.
“I want you, trust me, but—”
“But it’s too soon for you,” she finishes as our eyes meet again.
; “Because you’ve been drinking.” If it weren’t for the alcohol, I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from taking every piece of her—making her lose her mind, orgasm after orgasm.
“I’m not drunk.”
I rush a hand through my hair, trying to keep my hands off her.
“But this shouldn’t happen anyway, I guess.” She scoots off the counter, her feet finding the floor, and I fix my pants and button them. She grabs her beer and takes a drink as she fiddles with her strap, securing it in place.
I turn, ready to leave, but she says, “Don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.”
I want to ask her why. What happened to make such a strong, successful woman scared? But I bite my tongue and control my thoughts.
“You barely know me, but I like that. I like that you don’t already have some idea about me, that you don’t know the me before—” She turns away.
“Do you want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you? I’m a good listener.” I touch the small of her back, and her shoulders relax.
“Could we do something else instead?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Well, uh, the one something else I have in mind is off-limits, so…” I say with a bit of a smile.
“Do you like movies? We could eat popcorn and watch a movie.” She shakes her head. “Shit, I don’t have popcorn, and I guess the living room is a mess to watch a movie in, which leaves the bedroom. There’s a TV in there. A couch too. Not just the bed.”
“The couch in your room works.”
“Okay, good. What do you like? Are you a Stallone fan? I have the collection of Rocky movies.”
“You like Rocky?” I ask, totally surprised. The woman is throwing me a curve ball here, and I might just fall in love right now.
“Looks can be deceiving.” She flicks her wrist, motioning for me to come to her bedroom—a place I know I should stay the hell out of.
But I follow her. I wonder if I could follow this woman anywhere.
When we go into her room, it’s barely decorated, like the rest of her place, which shouldn’t surprise me. There’s a massive four-poster bed in the center and a seating area with a couch and large flat screen TV near the windows that overlook the city.
“I’m going to change. The movies are in the cabinet beneath the TV.”
“Grace?”
She glances over her shoulder at me. “Yeah?”
“Mind wearing something not too sexy?”
She chuckles. “Define sexy.”
I smile. “Anything.”
“So nothing it is.” She winks then disappears behind the closed door.
I shake my head, still smiling. I crouch in front of her TV stand and look over the titles. Her taste in action movies is spot-on with mine, and it makes her all the sexier.
I find her remote, start up Rocky IV—the best, in my opinion—and settle down on the brown leather couch and rub my palms against my thighs.
When the door opens, I almost half expect to see Grace standing there naked, her glorious body on display. But she’s wearing silk pajama pants and a white tank top, and thank God, a bra. Not that I wouldn’t like to study her nipples in greater detail.
“Is this okay?” She comes toward me while braiding her long hair at the side and resting it on her shoulder.
Fuck me. She’s like a fantasy come true. Why the hell do I have to be a good guy?
I look at her as she stands before me, and I want to reach for her hips and pull her onto my lap, to have her grind against my cock as my tongue darts over her breasts and teases her flesh.
“This is my favorite Rocky too,” she says after I’ve pulled my head out of the gutter and pressed play.
She glances at my lap as she sits down, and I swallow, my cock stiffening. It’s obvious I’m hard, and I swear she’s torturing me on purpose as she pulls her lip between her teeth.
“Movie,” I nearly grunt as I tip my head toward the screen.
She laughs a little and positions herself to face the TV instead of me, and I try to relax. I try to think of my mom, my grandmother, something to reduce this erection.
And then Cindy comes to mind, and the heat in my body and the pain between my legs dies. In its place is a pain in my chest.
My daughter…
I’m barely paying attention to the movie now. My thoughts go dark as I bounce around ideas of how Cindy plans to stab me in the back and make me bleed even more than I already have.
I feel Grace leaning against my shoulder, which pulls me back to the moment, but when I look at her, she’s asleep. Her chest lifts and falls slowly and her dark lashes are splayed against her skin, her pouty lips as kissable as ever.
I exhale, still a little surprised I put myself in this position, then I gently shift her so she’s resting her head on the cushion of the couch so I can stand. I turn down her comforter before lifting her into my arms.
She feels good here.
I sling her arms around my neck, and she latches on as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. After I set her down on the bed and cover her up, I decide I should stay since she didn’t want to be alone.
Once the lights and movie are off, I remove my shoes and lie on the couch. My arms cross over my chest, and I squeeze my eyes tight, allowing my mind to drift to life before New York. To when I was a SEAL and everything made sense. I was the team leader. Confident in my choices, never doubting my decisions.
Civilian life is so much more complicated. But I can’t go back to the military, can I? I can’t run away from this life because it’s fucking hard. I can’t leave Lily.
But my stomach tightens. So much more shit is heading my way, and for the first time in my life, I don’t know if I’m prepared to deal with it.
I jerk upright at the sound of moaning. No, it’s more like a cry. It takes me a minute to remember where I am, but when I do, I rush over to Grace’s bed, where she’s tossing and turning. Her fingertips are biting into the bed, clawing at it as if she’s being attacked.
Jesus, what the hell is she dreaming about?
I don’t want to startle her awake, but I hate seeing her like this.
So, I do what I think is best. Hope so, at least.
The weight of my body sinks into the bed, and I wrap my arms around her, hugging her tight against me. “Shh…” I whisper in her ear, hoping she won’t wake.
Her shoulders jerk a little more, but she slowly stills and relaxes against me. And I hold her like that until I wake a few hours later to the feel of the sunlight peeking through the partially open blinds.
I’m groggy. I’m normally up before the sun rises, so I feel off-balance. Plus, my arms are wrapped around Grace, and she’s got my one arm pinned. I’m afraid if I move, she’ll wake up and freak out.
I need to do this slowly, to prepare her to the fact that I’m in bed with her.
“Grace.” I lift my top arm off of her and edge back a little. “Grace. It’s me, Noah.”
She stirs and her back lands against my chest, molding into me as if she belongs there. And I still have my morning wood. Great.
Her firm ass presses against me, and my body doesn’t need any further encouragement. I’m reared up to go.
“Grace,” I say again, needing to get my dick away from her. I doubt she’d want to wake to that.
“Yeah?”
Oh, good. “Grace.”
She slowly rolls over, and I slip my arm free and prop my head up as she focuses on me, blinking a little.
She sits upright, clutching the sheet to her chest as if she’s naked. “Did we…?”
“No. I was on the couch, and you were having a nightmare. I tried to calm you down, so I held you. Sorry.” I get out of the bed and scratch the back of my head and arch my shoulders back, stretching. I’m not used to sleeping on such a soft mattress. So soft I think my back actually hurts.
“You stayed.” Her fingers brush across her lips as she finds my eyes.
“You asked me to.�
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“True.” She drops the sheet, probably realizing she’s still dressed. “Thank you. That was the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”
“Really?” My brows snap together. “With that nightmare, I would have assumed it was a rough night.”
She scoots to the edge of the bed, and her legs drop down. Her pajama bottoms are a little twisted, so she touches the waistband and fixes them before tugging down her tank top that had risen.
And I want to push it right back up, to kiss her there and all the way to her mouth.
Her sleepy morning look is turning me on. I need some black coffee to pull myself together. Or my morning run.
Probably both.
“Normally I wake up after the nightmare, and I don’t go back to sleep.” She looks at the floor as she stands, and I wonder why she doesn’t want to look me in the eyes.
“The nightmare? Same one?” I ask, concern flickering through me.
She waves. “Never mind that. You want some coffee? I don’t have food, but I have a machine that can whip us up a good cup.”
“A woman after my own heart.” I smile, and she seems to relax with the subject changed.
“Let me brush my teeth first.”
“You have any mouthwash or a spare I could use?”
“Sure. Follow me.”
Her bathroom is probably triple the size of my boat’s cabin. The shower occupies half the bathroom, a glass wall offering a partial view. There are three—yes, three—shower heads. Two rain ones on top and another hand-held one attached to the wall.
Jesus, the woman gets wet.
And there goes my dick again.
I raise a fist to my mouth, faking a cough as she studies me in the reflection of the mirror as if she knows what I was thinking.
“Here.” She hands me an unopened toothbrush.
We go about brushing our teeth side by side as if she’s my wife and this is our normal ritual.
I watch her out of the corner of my eye as she rinses, and I can’t help but feel good. I miss having someone next to me. I always appreciated the little moments when I wasn’t overseas, like being able to get ready next to Cindy in the morning. Although she rarely got up when I did. But that also meant our early riser daughter and I had more time to hang out just the two of us.
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