Fighting for Us: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 2)

by Claire Kingsley

  But I wasn’t finished with her yet.

  “On your knees.”

  Smiling, she slid off me. I sat up quickly and got behind her. Pressed her shoulders down to lift her ass in the air.

  “Mm, Gracie.” I ran my thumbs along her opening. “Look at this beautiful pussy.”

  “You want more?” she asked.

  I grabbed my cock in one hand and drew the tip up and down her wet slit. “Yeah, I want more. I want to come deep inside you.”

  She arched harder. “Fuck me then, Asher.”

  I stroked my cock a few times, letting the tip rub against her. “You need more of this too, don’t you, beautiful?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  Holding her hips tight, I thrust inside and unleashed.

  I drove in and out, slamming into her, losing myself in the feel of her. In the drag of my cock through her slick walls. In the heat of her pussy surrounding me. She was hot and perfect and I loved her so fucking much.

  The pressure grew, but I didn’t hold back. I fucked her until my back clenched and the pulsing tension hit the breaking point.

  And then I let go.

  I exploded inside her, groaning as I came hard. For that one delirious moment, nothing else existed. Just my throbbing cock as I poured myself into her. My hips jerked with every pulse, the ecstasy staggering.

  When I finished, I pulled out, breathing hard. She rolled onto her back and pulled me down. Our bodies tangled together and we held each other tight, catching our breath, our hearts racing. I planted soft kisses anywhere I could find skin, murmuring how much I loved her.

  Because I did. I always had. And in this moment, nothing else mattered.

  29

  Asher

  I came awake slowly, drifting from the depths of sleep like there was no reason to rush. Sunlight peeked through the curtain. I’d actually slept all night. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done that.

  The sheets moved, softly dragging against my bare skin. Still half-asleep, I turned onto my side and hooked an arm around Grace’s waist. Hauled her closer. She made a little noise in her throat, then nestled in against me. Inhaling deeply, I smelled her hair. Her skin. Her scent settled in my lungs, triggering a deep response in my brain. Contentment. Satisfaction. Relief.

  I didn’t know what came next. My reasons for keeping us apart hadn’t gone anywhere. Being with Grace like this made me feel better, but the blissful peace wasn’t permanent. The darkness inside me still crept around the edges, looking for a way in. A way to poison everything good in my life. I still had to protect her from that, although I didn’t know how.

  For the moment, I simply held on.

  My cock hardened against her, but there wasn’t any urgency to my arousal. I’d happily fuck her again as soon as she was ready, but I was also content to drift like this for a while. Half-awake. No stark memory of a nightmare behind my eyes. Just Grace, in my arms, her warm skin touching mine.

  I’d missed her so fucking much.

  She inhaled deeply, her ribs expanding, and tilted her head back. “Morning.”

  I kissed her temple. “Morning.”

  “I like waking up this way.”

  Pulling her in tighter, I nuzzled my face against her. I couldn’t get close enough. “Me too.”

  We lay in silence for long moments. I gently caressed her skin and idly planted soft kisses on her neck and shoulder while she murmured her approval.

  Eventually, I felt her shift. Not so much physically, although she drew her arms up and stretched. But I could tell she was fully awake and probably wanted to talk.

  We certainly had things to talk about.

  I loosened my hold on her so she could roll onto her back, and propped myself up on an elbow.

  Her lips twitched in a smile. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Good. Great, actually. Better than in a long time. Must be the comfortable bed.” I winked.

  “I’m sure that was it,” she said, her tone wry. “Although I’m not surprised you like the bed. It was yours.”

  “What?”

  “This was your bed. I took it when we cleaned out your apartment.”

  “You’ve been sleeping on my bed all this time?”

  “Yeah. You don’t want to know how long I went without washing the sheets you had on it. It’s probably gross, but I don’t care. These ones are new, though.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “Can I tell you an embarrassing secret that no one else knows? Not even Cara?”

  “Sure.”

  “I sealed your old pillowcase in a plastic bag and it’s hidden in my closet. Sometimes I’d get it out and put it up to my face so I could still smell you.”

  I dipped my forehead to hers. “Oh my god. You’re so fucking cute.”

  “You don’t think that’s gross?”

  “I would have done the same thing if I could have.”

  “I thought you didn’t think about me when you were in prison.”

  It hurt to hear her say that, but I wasn’t surprised. “No, I thought about you every day. Every morning when I woke up, you were the first thing on my mind. And when I had to put you away, you didn’t go very far. I couldn’t always keep you up here.” I tapped my temple. “So I held onto you in here.” I put my hand on my chest.

  She placed her hand over mine and curled our fingers together. “Thank you for coming back last night.”

  “I’m sorry I walked away in the first place.”

  “It’s okay, you made up for it.”

  “See? Told you I’m not rusty.”

  “No, not at all. Although I think your grappling could still use some work.”

  I smiled. “Wow. How do you know I didn’t let you win?”

  “Did you?”

  “No, not really.”

  She laughed.

  “When did you start training? I don’t remember you mentioning it in your letters.”

  “I probably didn’t. It felt weird to bring it up, because of why I’d started.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I took my first class a few weeks after you left. I decided I never wanted to feel helpless again.”

  Hearing her say that sent a flash of memory through my mind. I could still see it all so clearly, still feel the sickening realization hit me. They had Grace.

  “Hey.” She touched my face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sorry.” I brushed a tendril of hair off her forehead. “Are you okay? I don’t mean right now, I mean in general. After what they did to you.”

  Her eyes darted away and her features clouded with sudden tension. “I think so. I don’t like thinking about it. And everything that happened to you was a much bigger deal.”

  “Maybe. But it still happened to you, too. I mean, I saw it. They—”

  “I know,” she said, quickly cutting me off. “We don’t need to relive it.”

  “Okay.” I brushed her hair back again.

  She was quiet for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I’ve never been back to the bar where it happened. A few people have told me I should go, like it would give me closure or something. But I’ve never wanted to. I pretty much avoid that whole street. And Cara thinks I have a problem going places by myself. Public places. She said I can’t go anywhere alone, except for work.”

  “Is she right?”

  “Kind of? Maybe? I don’t know, she also said I might have just gotten used to going everywhere with her and it became a habit to call her when I have to go shopping or something. We were roommates for a long time and we literally did everything together.”

  “She seems like a good friend. I’m glad you have her.”

  “Me too. She’s a very good friend. I’m so glad you don’t hate her, because that would have been awful.”

  I smiled. “No reason to hate her. I still think she’s weird, but she’s good to you, so that’s enough for me. By the way, you can thank her for the theater tickets. And she gave me the tip about the restaurant. Said it was your favorite.�
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  “I knew it. When did she talk to you?”

  “She texted me when we were still at the gym.”

  “That sneaky bitch. I love her.”

  “I don’t know how she got the tickets. She just said ‘give me twelve hours.’ I met her outside City Hall yesterday morning and she slipped them to me like we were doing a drug deal.”

  “Typical. I don’t know how she does it either, but that kind of thing is basically her superpower.” She paused, tracing a finger across my chest. “So, speaking of last night, can we talk about it?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “I meant what I said about never being with anyone else. I just want to make sure you know that.”

  “I know. I haven’t done anything to deserve your faithfulness, but I’ve never doubted you.” I kissed her forehead. “I hope it goes without saying that I haven’t been with anyone else either.”

  “You sure you didn’t get a little too close with one of your cellmates?”

  “No. Definitely not.”

  She laughed. “Good to know.”

  “I’m sorry if I made you doubt that I love you. I never stopped. And I know it’s probably hard to understand, but everything I did was because of how much I love you. Maybe it was all wrong. But I’m not…” I trailed off, struggling to find the words to explain.

  “You’re not the same.”

  “I’m not, but it’s deeper than that.” I glanced away. It was hard to look at her and talk about this. “It was rough in there. Maybe it makes me weak that everything that happened fucked me up inside like it did. But I’m just trying to keep it together. It’s harder than you think.”

  She touched my face again, caressing my rough jaw with her soft fingertips. “I know. And it’s okay.”

  “Grace, last night meant everything to me…” I trailed off again, searching for what else I was trying to say.

  “I can hear you hesitating. I know you’re not ready to say we’re officially engaged again. That’s okay. I haven’t taken your ring off, but not because I think we’re going to start planning a wedding. I still wear it because taking it off would feel like giving up. And I can’t do that.”

  The sting of tears hit my eyes and I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. I wasn’t just unworthy, I was lower than the dust beneath her feet. “I don’t know why you still love me. I haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

  “Maybe that’s not how love works. Nobody’s keeping score. I love you because I do. Because of who you were, and who you are now. Because something deep inside me is connected to something deep inside you. And whatever that is, I think it’s worth fighting for.”

  Leaning down, I brought my mouth to hers. Savored her soft lips and tasted her tongue with mine. When I pulled away, she smiled.

  “Do you remember what you said to me the night you first told me you loved me?” she asked.

  I nodded. That had been one of the most important nights of my life. I’d never forget a moment of it.

  “You said it was okay if I didn’t say it back yet. You just wanted a chance. And then you asked me for a summer.”

  “I remember.”

  “Well, that’s what I’m asking for now. It’s okay if you aren’t ready to give me forever. I understand you have things to work out for yourself first. So give me a summer. If we’re still together at the end of it, then…” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “We see where it goes.”

  Relief flowed through me like a wave. I could give her this. It would allow me some time to get my shit together. To see if I could calm down. Time to make sure my demons were safely locked away. To be sure I’d never put her in any kind of danger.

  No matter what she said about love, I didn’t deserve hers. But maybe I could try to change that.

  Rolling onto her, I kissed her again. Her hands splayed across my back and my cock thickened between us.

  “Is that a yes?” she asked, giggling between kisses.

  “Yes.” I buried my face in her neck and breathed her in. “That’s a yes.”

  After letting her up so we could both use the bathroom, I hauled her back into bed with me. And when I climbed on top of her and slid inside, she felt so good, it was almost like none of it had ever happened. That we’d been together all these years and this was just a typical morning. The two of us, tangled in the sheets, our bodies joined in pleasure.

  She’d given me a summer, once. The least I could do was give her the same. I just hoped her faith in me wasn’t misplaced, and I could hold the fractured pieces of myself together.

  Dear Asher

  Dear Asher,

  You’re not going to believe what I did today. I closed on the house.

  I swear, I spent a solid hour signing documents. My hand got so tired and by the end my signature was barely legible. But after writing a terrifyingly large check and basically signing my life away, I am now the proud owner of a house.

  Sort of.

  It’s a house in the general sense. You’ve seen it, of course. It has a roof and walls. Those are actually intact. It smells like dust and dirt—but not mold—and I don’t think anyone should go inside who hasn’t had a tetanus shot recently.

  But it has good bones. I’d always hoped it did, and when I talked with the home inspector, he confirmed everything I’d been wanting to hear. The roof is solid. The walls are stable. The electrical is old, the plumbing remains to be seen, and the cosmetic stuff? Well, there’s a lot.

  It won’t be a total gut job. The walls don’t have to be taken down to the studs, although there will be a lot of patchwork to do. Plus flooring, paint, trim, doors, windows. The list goes on and on, and that’s before I start thinking about the really big (and expensive) projects like the kitchen and bathrooms.

  But think of how great it’s going to be when it’s finished. I didn’t walk through the house and see the mess, I walked through and saw the potential. I saw what hard work could do. It’s on that nice quiet street, the neighbors are lovely, and the lot is fantastic. Or it will be when we get all the blackberries and weeds cleared out.

  Levi thinks I’m nuts. So does my mom. But I think this is one of the most sane things I’ve ever done. Plus, we have two more years of this not being together bullshit, and let’s be honest, I need something to do. Work is going well, and I have family and friends. But lately, it’s not enough. I need a project.

  Now I’ve got one. A big one.

  It feels like a lifetime ago that we said someday we might buy that old house on Evergreen Street together. This isn’t exactly what we meant. Me buying it alone while you’re serving a prison sentence wasn’t what either of us had in mind. And I thought about waiting until you come home.

  But I’m already waiting for so many things. I’m waiting for you, waiting for my life to begin again. It would be easy for me to get stuck in one place. I don’t want to let that happen. So far, I’ve kept going. I haven’t stopped living, even when things have been hard and I’ve wanted to.

  So I’m not going to stop now, and I’m not going to wait. Who knows, when you come home in two years, the house might be finished. Don’t worry, I promise I won’t pick any colors you’ll hate. And if I do, we can fix it when you get home.

  For now, I’m off to the hardware store to start looking at… everything. Paint, lighting, cabinets, flooring. It’s time for me to get started on the future and make this a home.

  Missing you every day,

  Grace

  30

  Grace

  Asher slipped my hand into his as we walked through town. I smiled up at him and he squeezed. Such a simple thing, to wander down the street hand in hand. I’d missed it so much. I’d never take it for granted again.

  Summer had barreled its way into Tilikum almost overnight. We’d gone from warm days with light breezes to scorching heat and still air. Today, the sun blazed overhead in the clear blue sky, but a little heatwave hadn’t done anything to deter the town from celebrating.
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  It was the first day of the annual Mountain Man Festival. A banner spanned the street, claiming it was the 108th year running. I doubted it had really existed that long. But people around here liked to believe that our traditions dated back to the time when this had been little more than a railroad depot with a sawmill, and a pit stop for prospectors and adventurers.

  For a moment, I wondered if the Mountain Man Festival had existed in Eliza Bailey’s time.

  Downtown was closed to traffic and vendors lined the streets, like a big farmers’ market. Everything led toward Lumberjack Park, where the real action was held. Individuals and teams competed in contests and feats of strength—everything from archery and ax throwing to wood chopping and log pulling. Nearby were more booths and tents, home to the Tilikum chili cook-off and the all-important Blue Ribbon Pie Contest.

  Gram was probably busy setting up her pies now. To the chagrin of the Havens, and the surprise of no one, Gram Bailey won every year.

  Asher had been home for nearly two months, and it had been several weeks since our second first date. We were getting to know each other again, and it was easier now. He was slowly opening up to me, relaxing his defenses. He was still wary, still vigilant about his surroundings. I could see him doing it now while we walked—keeping an eye on people, maintaining space between us and others.

  And he had nightmares.

  He hadn’t officially moved in with me, but he slept over often. And more than once, I’d awoken to find him jolting awake—his heart racing, his body covered in sweat. He wouldn’t talk about his dreams, and I didn’t know if it was because he couldn’t remember them when he was awake, or if he didn’t want to tell me. I had a feeling it was the latter.

  I hoped that time would help. And that maybe soon he’d be willing to see a counselor. I’d gently brought it up, but he’d said a counselor would just make him talk about things he wanted to forget.

  We slowed our pace so I could stop at a booth and glance at the handmade jewelry. The pieces were beautiful, adorned with polished gems and stones. Next to it was Chuck Bailey’s booth. Along with his I believe in Bigfoot merchandise, this year he was selling bottles labeled Squirrel Repellent.