But there was one stunningly good reason that it wasn’t, and that gorgeous brunette, so fierce and full of chin-up, eyes-blazing attitude, yet selfless enough to sneak groceries to a family she didn’t know, was going to be waiting for him, because he’d asked her to.
Marley trusted him. She needed something good to get past that sadness in her eyes.
And even though no one had ever accused him of being good in his life, Greyson was going to give it to her.
He pulled into the gravel driveway and parked, a thread of shock moving through his belly as he realized Marley had already arrived. She leaned against her car, her long, jeans-clad legs kicked out in front of her and crossed at the ankles as easy as Sunday morning, her smile a perfect mix of brass and wide-open beauty, and fuuuuuuck, this was the best bad idea he’d ever cooked up.
“You’re early,” she said, watching him as he walked around the front of his truck.
“You got here first,” he pointed out, and she pressed her lips together, her expression as close to shyness as it would probably ever get.
“Well…yeah.” Pushing off her car, Marley took a few steps forward, cutting the distance between them on the path in half. “So, how come we’re here, exactly? I know you’re supposed to be showing me how great Millhaven is and all, but I’m already pretty well acquainted with the shelter.”
Greyson nodded, looking around the dusk-tinged front yard, where fireflies were just starting to make themselves known in the tall grass along the tree line. “I know. I told you to meet me here so you wouldn’t get lost. There are no street signs where we’re headed, plus”—he darted a glance at the Toyota—“I wasn’t sure your car would make it.”
“I’ll have you know this car has survived a lot,” Marley said, the teasing smile on her lips making it to both her eyes and her tone.
He took the challenge like a shot of whiskey, quick and sharp and so damn good. “Right. Including Y2K.”
She laughed. “Your truck looks just as old.”
“There are a couple of things you should know about country living,” Greyson said, holding his arm out, then forcing himself to focus when the bare skin of Marley’s forearm slid over his as she took it. “One is that you don’t blaspheme a man’s truck.”
“Oh, I’m not speaking ill. I actually kind of like a ride with character.”
“It was my uncle’s.”
The admission slipped out, but it didn’t feel weird to tell her the little-known truth. In fact, Greyson missed talking about the guy.
“Steve, right?” she asked after he’d ushered her up into the passenger seat, then climbed behind the wheel to start the engine and pull out of the drive.
“Yeah. He and my old man were only a year apart in age. My uncle never got married or had kids of his own, so he and I were close. I always felt kind of lucky, like I had two dads.”
Marley processed this for a minute, the wind from the cracked-open windows stirring her hair around her shoulders. “Was he close with your father, too?”
“In their own way,” Greyson said slowly. He supposed they must have been—they ran the farm together, and that was no easy task—but… “My old man is tough to read, and he doesn’t talk much. To be truthful, I always got the feeling there was something weird between him and my uncle, like an argument they never had out loud. But the three of us got on pretty good. At least, as far as the farm was concerned.”
“You must miss him.” This, Marley aimed at the passenger window, beyond which the leaves of the passing trees and the fields beyond them were all fading into the gray and purple shadows.
He gave her the truth, plain and simple, the only way he knew how. “I was twenty when he died. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about him, though.”
“You don’t sound sad about it,” Marley said, with far more awe than accusation.
“I’m not. Well, not anymore,” he amended. Directly after the murder, he’d grieved and raged simultaneously, his only happiness coming from working the farm and the day the man who had killed his uncle had received a life sentence with no possibility for parole.
Greyson took a breath and continued. “It took me a long time to realize it, but feeling sad isn’t what my uncle would’ve wanted. He had a great life, doing what he loved, and I got to be a part of that. Did he die too soon? Yeah.” The man had been just shy of his fifty-third birthday, for Chrissake. “But he would’ve been hoppin’ mad to know I was sad every time I thought about him. So now, even though sometimes it’s tough, I make myself remember the good things.”
“And that works?” Marley asked, her voice barely above a whisper as it rode the breeze inside the truck.
“Most of the time. But we’re only human, you know? Sometimes, we’re gonna be sad no matter what they would’ve wanted.”
They rode for another few minutes in comfortable quiet until they reached the turnoff Greyson knew like a signature. Most folks had no idea it was anything other than a short, bumpy dirt road leading to a dead end. But he knew better than anyone how deceiving looks could be, and he navigated the path until it stopped, his headlights illuminating the tall grass in front of them for only a second before he cut them off along with the engine.
“Still trust me?” he asked. His heart beat faster in his chest when Marley turned to look at him through the shadows that had deepened to near nighttime, then faster still when she nodded.
“I do.”
“Then let’s go.”
They got out of the truck, and her eyes must’ve adjusted to the lack of light, because she realized the scope of their surroundings. “We’re in the middle of a field. There’s nowhere to go.”
Greyson lifted a hand. “How about up?”
“You’re serious,” Marley said, her face tilted to take in the water tower about fifty yards in front of them.
“I am serious,” he agreed. A thought occurred to him, one he probably should’ve had before now. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
“No. It’s the falling to my death part I’m not crazy about.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen.” His heart slammed suddenly with a fierceness he hadn’t expected, and he tugged in a deep breath to counter it. “Anyway, I’ve been up there a thousand times. It’s not as bad as it looks, and when we get to the top, you’ll see why it’s worth it.” Greyson checked the time on his cell phone, and yeah, perfect.
“If you say so,” Marley said, although she didn’t hesitate to follow him across the field. Their boots shushed through the grass, the outlines of the water tower and the trees lining the road beyond it coming into sharper focus as his eyes grew used to the dark more fully. Greyson was aware of Marley right behind him, the way she stepped carefully but with purpose, the smell of her skin, like some dark, exotic flower you’d see in a travel brochure. His cock twitched at the thought (well, probably at her nearness and the thought. God, how could she be so fucking close without touching him?) but he didn’t stop until they got to the ladder built in to the support beam on the north side of the water tower.
Greyson turned to look at her, and yep. Still goddamn gorgeous. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “This isn’t rocket science, but it’s not something you want to fool around with, either. Hold on to the rails on either side, here”—he broke off to grab the steel bars running the length of the beam on either side—“concentrate on your footing, and take the step that’s in front of you.”
She didn’t seem the type to back down from a challenge, but having her freeze partway up wouldn’t do either of them any favors, so he added, “I’ll be right behind you the whole way, and we can go down any time you want if you change your mind. No big deal. Cool?”
“Mmm hmm.” Marley tied her hoodie around her waist. She assessed the railings, then the ladder trailing upward, both with shrewd stares. With surprisingly steady moves, she began to climb, and Greyson followed, step by step, hand over hand. They reached the platform that formed a ring around the bottom of the tow
er’s reservoir a few minutes later. A shocked breath came out of her, as if she’d just now realized they’d be up this high, and damn, it was one hell of a turn-on that instead of being scared, she only seemed proud that she’d made the climb.
“Wow.” She placed her hands on the support railing lining the platform, a sound length of steel that came in at her lower chest, with another two spanning at even intervals below.
“Forty feet,” he said by way of agreement.
Marley tipped her ear toward her shoulder, the gears and inner workings of her brain clearly clacking away. “But it’s dark out. I mean, it is kind of a rush to be up this high, but there’s not a whole lot to actually see. How is this supposed to show me the awesomeness of Millhaven?”
“No one’s ever accused you of being very patient, have they?”
At her snort in reply—the one Greyson had fully anticipated—he gestured at the platform in a wordless have a seat. “Don’t worry. I didn’t bring you all the way up here for nothing. As a matter of fact, right now, you happen to be in the best seat in the house.”
“Really?” Marley asked, her doubt ringing through like church bells. Still, she sat, her back against the reservoir and her legs kicked out in front of her. A breeze stirred, not strong enough to make the tower so much as budge, sturdy thing that it was. Still, the cooler air made her shiver, and Greyson reached out to help her into her hoodie, wrapping the unzipped edges around her snugly as he looked up.
“Really.”
Maybe it was providence, or possibly just dumb fucking luck. Whichever was to blame, for once, timing was on Greyson’s side. A glittering flash of pink and purple light burst in the sky overhead, a loud pop and sizzle quickly following, and Marley’s lips parted on a soft gasp.
“Oh! Fireworks.”
He chuckled. “It’s the Fourth of July, remember? They set them off from over there.” Greyson pointed to a tiny cluster of lights in the near distance. “Everyone usually watches them from the park at the end of Town Street, but honestly? I think this is better.”
Another starburst bloomed in the sky, the gold and white sparkles dim compared to the light in Marley’s eyes. “It’s not better. It’s…” She waited until the darkness folded back around them to whisper, “Perfect.”
Something moved in his chest, primal and deep. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
“Okay,” she said, leaning in close enough for her hip to press firmly against his, and he clung to his very last shred of logic.
“You know that if I do, things are going to get complicated, right?”
Another firework lit the sky, chasing the shadows. “Only if we let them.”
Greyson’s breath slipped out unsteadily, pushed hard by his slamming heart. “You know that if I do, I won’t want to stop.”
Marley’s mouth curled into a smile he wanted on every last inch of his skin. “Okay.”
“Marley—”
Her fingers flew up, pressing over his lips and stopping his words cold. “Greyson, stop talking,” she said.
Then she replaced her fingers with her mouth, and for once in his life, he did exactly as he’d been told.
18
Marley knew she’d been flirting with trouble the second she’d seen Greyson pull up beside her at the shelter, and she’d damn sure known it when he’d told her their destination was forty feet in the air at the top of a water tower. But where most people would’ve run screaming, or at the very least forked over an unyielding “hell no” when faced with the prospect of doing something dangerous with someone dangerous, Marley hadn’t thought twice.
She’d wanted to feel awake. Alive. Real in a way that she hadn’t for far too long. And way up here, forty feet in the night sky with Greyson’s lips on hers and the promise of so much more to come?
She didn’t just feel alive. She felt right.
Reaching out to haul her in close, Greyson took the kiss from zero to oh-God-hot in less than a second. Marley wrapped her arms around him right back, seating herself deftly in his lap as he pressed his back flush with the reservoir. They were far from the edge of the platform, which was protected by the triple-tiered railing, anyway, so she arched against him, returning the kiss.
“Christ. You are so pretty. Do you know that?” he murmured into her mouth.
She hooked her fingers in his hair, surrendering to one more slide of his tongue over hers before her laugh won out. “You don’t have to sweet-talk me. I already told you I want this.”
Greyson pulled back, quickly enough to leave her dazed. “You think I’m just sweet-talking you so you’ll have sex with me? That I don’t mean exactly what I’m saying?”
He swiped a thumb across her bottom lip. A trail of heat followed in the wake of his touch, pinning Marley into place, and her heart thundered in a hard press against her ribs. “No.”
Well that came out way breathier than she’d intended. She cleared her throat. “I just get that this is a heat of the moment thing. That’s all.”
“Maybe,” Greyson agreed. “But heat of the moment or not, I still do the things that matter right. Speaking of which”—he looked around, just in time for another firework to pop over their heads and light up the hard set of his jaw—“come on.”
Marley’s surprise made her ask, “Where are we going?” even as she complied by moving out of his lap and pushing herself to standing beside him.
He leaned forward to kiss her, just one hard, fast press of his mouth. “My apartment. As much as I’ve been dying to have you, I’m not doing it here.”
“No?” She lifted one corner of her mouth, just enough to tease him. “I guess there are boundaries you won’t push, after all.”
Greyson’s eyes glittered, black on black in the shadows, and Marley’s breath went still at the sheer intensity on his face. “I would break every goddamn rule in the universe to get inside of you right now. But I mean to fuck you good and proper, which means we’ll be needing more comfort and privacy than we’ve got up here. So, are you coming, or not?”
Oh. God. “What are you waiting for?” Marley breathed, hearing the waver in her voice even though she’d meant the reply to be tough. Sassy. “Let’s go.”
Grinning, he led the way back to the ladder, pausing just briefly to remind her to hold on tight and take each step with care. He lowered himself from the platform first, with her directly behind, and even though the adrenaline she’d felt going up wasn’t shy about making a repeat performance in her veins for the trip back down, they arrived on terra firma both safely and quickly enough.
A prickle moved over Marley’s skin as Greyson opened the passenger door to his truck to usher her in, then another as he laid his hand next to hers on the center console and pulled out of the field. His fingers inched closer to hers with every bump in the road, hers edging toward his in reply, until his pinky finger slid over hers in the barest suggestion of a touch. Marley swallowed her gasp and echoed the movement back to him, just a whisper of connection, skin against skin. The calluses by the blunt edge of his fingertip gave way to shockingly softer skin above his knuckle, both creating friction with that soft, steady contact. Greyson dragged the side of his pinky slowly over hers, up, then back, then up again, and even though Marley could think of a thousand more overtly sexual things he could do to turn her on, by the time he pulled into the parking lot in front of Millhaven’s only apartment complex, her panties were already so damp, she was certain her arousal would be as wildly obvious as the fireworks still bursting in the night sky.
Maybe it was, because Greyson let go of an exhale that bordered on a moan before getting out of the truck. She followed suit, even though his frown said he wasn’t happy she hadn’t let him go the Southern manners route of coming to collect her. But tonight wasn’t about manners.
Tonight was about feeling alive. Hard and deep and as soon as goddamn possible.
As if he’d read her thoughts, he said, “This way,” leading her to a door that looked like all the other
s in the tidy, well-lit row. For a brief moment, Marley wondered why he didn’t live on his farm the way everyone else around here did, especially since he so clearly loved the place.
But then they were over the threshold, the door shut behind them, and Greyson had erased the space between their bodies in less time than it took her to whisper his name.
“That’s better,” he said, the words hot on her skin as he kissed a path down her neck. She tugged at the edges of her hoodie to give him better access—ah, God, if he licked that spot above her collarbone again, she was going to fucking scream, and not in the bad way.
Greyson did her one better, yanking the cotton from her arms and tossing it to the floor, exposing her thin tank top and the hard press of her nipples beneath. “That’s better, too. In fact…”
He reached down to grab the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion. Marley wanted to reclaim the space between them that the move had created. But holy shit, he was gorgeous, his work-carved muscles tan and smooth in the low light drifting in past the partially cracked blinds, and she was powerless to do anything other than stare as she drank him in. His tattoo spilled from the top of his shoulder downward, the swirls of black ink hugging his skin all the way to the bend of his elbow, emphasizing the sinews and curves of his biceps and triceps in a way that made Marley want to trace them with her fingers, her tongue. The flat plane of his chest gave way to leanly ridged abs, a trail of dark hair leading downward from just below his navel, and—Marley’s breath went tight—the outline of his cock pressed hard against the fly of those perfectly imperfect jeans. Greyson wasn’t linebacker huge, and with all the raw intensity rolling from his body and his stare, he wasn’t magazine-pretty.
But he was leveling her with a smirk that made her thighs tremble, and oh God, she’d never ached so hard to be touched in her life.
“Like what you see?” he asked, his drawl as decadent as sweet cream, and Marley was done messing around. Grasping the edges of her tank top, she lifted until she was bare from the waist up, then flung the thing to meet Greyson’s shirt on the floor.
Crossing Hope (Cross Creek Series Book 4) Page 17
