“I’m going to make sure Poppy stays with me,” he said after a moment.
“You’re going to go for full custody?” she asked.
“There’s enough evidence that Carol-Ann wasn’t caring for her properly—I mean, leaving a kid in the car when she went drinking? Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can get her full-time.”
“I think you should,” Grace said, glancing back toward the couch. “She deserves better than what she had.”
“She needs her mom, though,” he said. “I won’t cut Carol-Ann off or anything, but she’s not going to be the functional mother figure that Poppy’s going to need as she grows up.”
“You want a wife, then,” Grace said, and he looked down into Grace’s warm eyes.
“No,” he admitted, grabbing a dish and plunging it into the hot water. “I’ve had all sorts of experience with dating the wrong women, and the drama that comes with it. You know how shaken up my daughter is. She needs a stable home with a dad who’s focused on her, not his girlfriend.”
Grace didn’t answer.
“You think I’m wrong?”
“I didn’t say that,” she replied.
“You’re doing that whole silent thing that means you think I’m wrong,” he countered, a smile playing at his lips. “I know you.”
“No, I was just thinking that Poppy is going to have a happy childhood with you. She’s lucky that you’re her dad.”
“Thanks.” He shot Grace a grin. “I wish you were sticking around, though. You could be that female role model she’ll need. If Poppy learned from you...turned out a bit like you... I’d be proud.”
“You need the real thing, Billy,” Grace said, and her expression turned sad. “I’m not that. I’m just...convenient.”
“You’re a spectacular woman, Grace,” he said, sobering. “You’re smart, kind, full of wisdom. You’re a truly good person, and the fact that you’re my friend doesn’t make you a convenience.”
“You need a wife,” she said. “You might not be ready to find a woman to marry yet, but that’s what you need—someone to raise Poppy with you, to love both of you. And me—I’ve never been your type. Right now you’re scared, you’re alone, you’re a dad for the first time and wading through all of this... I stand by what I said. I’m convenient. You don’t need me—you just think you do.”
They’d have to agree to disagree on that. Grace had always been more of a necessity in his life than he’d realized. He was finally recognizing it. She’d always been so much more than a pal.
Billy glanced toward the sofa. “Is Poppy still reading?”
There were some things a guy didn’t even try to talk about if his daughter was anywhere within earshot. Grace didn’t answer, and Billy tiptoed over to look over the back of couch. Poppy had the book in her arms, hugged against her chest like a teddy bear, but her eyes were shut and she was snoring softly.
“Oh, man...” he murmured and glanced at his watch. It was half an hour past her bedtime, and he felt that pang of guilt.
“Come on, kiddo,” he murmured. He rounded the couch, pulled the book from her arms and scooped his daughter up. “Time for bed...”
Poppy moaned in her sleep, but didn’t wake up, and he carried her into her bedroom and tucked her into her bed. She rolled over and snuggled into her stuffed dog, heaving out a sleepy sigh. When he looked back, Grace stood in the doorway, watching him.
“I hate doing that,” he said softly, coming to the doorway and back out into the living room.
“Why?” she asked.
He pulled the bedroom door shut, leaving only a crack, as usual.
“Because I feel guilty,” he admitted. “My mom never sent me to bed. I stayed up as late as I wanted. I fell asleep on the couch because I liked the TV to keep me company, and I would go to bed when I woke up, freezing, in the middle of the night.”
“Oh...” Grace met his gaze, and he felt a tickle of warmth.
How many times the last three years had he saved up thoughts and memories, wanting to tell Grace about them? How many times had he unloaded it all in his mind, imagining how he’d explain...how he’d joke...how he’d feel better for having had her to talk to. And now he did have her—for a few days longer, at least.
“Thing is, my mom kept me up with her because she missed me,” he went on, his heart giving a squeeze. “And I guess I can understand that now.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Grace whispered.
“I’m more like her than I want to be.”
“You’re a good father, Billy,” Grace said firmly. He met her gaze for a moment. She meant it—he could see that in her clear blue eyes, and he was grateful for that, even if he wasn’t sure he entirely believed her.
“I’m going to be,” he said after a beat of silence.
Grace slipped her hand into the crook of his arm—an old, familiar gesture—and he sighed, sliding a hand over her soft fingers. It felt good to lean into her again, to touch her.
“You aren’t a convenience, Grace,” he murmured.
“Billy—”
“I’m serious,” he said. “I might not have realized how much you meant when I had you around, but that doesn’t make you a convenience. It just makes me an idiot.”
Grace chuckled. “Okay...”
“I missed you, Gracie. Really, really missed you.” The words caught in his throat.
Grace looked up at him and tears misted her eyes. “Me, too.”
“Did you really have to cut me off?”
“I think so,” she said, shaking her head helplessly. “I’d lived in this stupid hope that you’d suddenly be attracted to me for years. And I felt like an idiot, because then when I was in Denver, I met guys who were attracted to me right off the bat. Instead of looking in on romance, I was someone’s ideal.” Grace dropped her gaze. “I figured out what it meant to be desired, and I liked it.”
Well, he couldn’t help but see what those other guys had seen in her. She was definitely beautiful—full lips, sparkling eyes, skin like milk.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured.
“You don’t have to—”
“Hey.” He brushed a tendril of hair away from her face and stepped closer, the cool air evaporating into warmth between them. “You know me. I don’t say stuff I don’t mean.”
If he only had a few more days with her, he had to say it all, open up. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he held it back. He’d only go over it again and again on sleepless nights, wishing he’d found the courage to tell her how much she meant to him. And she was beautiful. He couldn’t let those Denver guys be the only ones who had told her.
She blinked, looking up at him with widened eyes. “Thanks,” she said feebly.
Suddenly the moment struck him as funny, and he chuckled. “You’re not good at this.”
“At what?”
“Flirting.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be flirting,” she countered.
She looked so serious that it sparked a bit of defiance inside of him. He should have been crossing these lines years ago, truth be told. He should have seen what was going on with her. He should have recognized what she meant to him all this time... So maybe he wanted to flirt with her right now. It might be all he had.
“You’re still terrible at it,” he said with a soft laugh. “Do you have more skills in Denver, or something?”
Grace’s cheeks colored again, and he was gratified when she laughed. “Yes, I do.”
“Maybe you were just awkward,” he teased. “Like now. I think I like it. It suits you.”
“I’m not the awkward one,” she retorted. “You’re the one trying to flirt with someone you know too well.”
“So that’s my problem here?” He stepped closer still and closed the gap between them, sliding a hand down her soft arm until he reached her waist. “I
know you too well.”
He didn’t, though. He knew her as a friend, but not as more. Not as a woman who could melt under his touch. He’d missed out on a whole lot.
“Yes...” Her voice came out in a breath.
Her gaze flickered up to his and he looked down into those ocean-blue eyes. Her lips parted and she sucked in a breath but didn’t say anything. He could see her heart beating in the soft flesh of her neck.
This was dangerous territory, and he knew he should stop. Friendship and flirting were one thing, but he was quickly moving in a new direction—one he had no right to with Grace.
“I have to work tomorrow,” she said.
“Yep. Me, too.” He waited for her to move away from him, but she didn’t. He could still see the quiver of her pulse. Billy slid his hand around her waist. He wasn’t meaning to keep her from leaving, exactly; he just wanted to see what she felt like in his arms before she rightfully pulled away.
“Not fair...” She licked her lips, then ever so gently rested her fingertips on his arms. She knew what he was doing, and her tentative move toward him sped his heart up into a hammering rhythm. His skin warmed at her touch, and his gaze dropped down to her mouth again.
“Not going?” he murmured.
“Soon...” she whispered.
“What if I kissed you right now?” He tugged her a little closer.
“Why?” she whispered, wide-eyed.
“Because it’s all I seem to be thinking about right now,” he admitted.
This was where she could push him away, tell him off, give him a smack. Her options were endless, and he’d never hold it against her.
“You had all the time in the world before—” she said, but he didn’t let her finish. Billy dipped his head down and closed that space between them. He paused before his mouth touched hers, feeling the tickle of her breath against his face, waiting for her to flinch, pull back, show some kind of dislike. But she didn’t, and when her eyes fluttered shut, he closed the last whisper of space between them, covering her lips with his.
Billy felt a flood of relief as his lips touched hers. She softened under his touch and leaned into him, fitting perfectly against his chest. She smelled like flowers, and kissing her felt so right. He’d missed her, but as his lips moved over hers, he knew it had been more than that...
He pulled back, shutting his eyes and resting his forehead against hers as he tried to find his rational thought again. She straightened away from him, and he opened his eyes, releasing her.
“Oh...” she breathed, her fingers coming up to her lips.
“Yeah...” He met her gaze once more, wondering what she was feeling. He hadn’t expected to kiss her like that, exactly. He’d definitely meant to kiss her, but...
“I...um...” She reached up and wiped his bottom lip. “I smudged your lip gloss.”
Billy chuckled at her joke. “Yeah, looks like.”
She smoothed her lips together, evening the shine of her lip gloss once more. “I have to go.”
“I know.” Had he overstepped? Probably. But had he upset her? That was his biggest worry. “Grace...”
He stepped closer again, looking down into her eyes, trying to decipher what she was feeling. She stepped back and dropped her gaze.
“It’s late,” she reminded him.
“Okay. Yeah.” He nodded quickly and shot her a tentative smile. “I just wanted to point out that, mistake or not, you kissed me back, Grace.”
Her cheeks colored again, and she smiled slightly. “Shut up, Billy.”
He laughed at that. “I noticed.”
“We can’t do this,” she said. “I’m the kind of woman who likes some clearly defined boundaries, and this—” she shrugged helplessly “—this isn’t defined at all.”
“Sorry,” he murmured.
Grace sucked in a deep breath as if steeling herself, then grabbed her jacket and stepped into her boots. Billy opened the front door for her, and she paused, looking up into his face. For a moment, he thought she might change her mind and stay a little longer... For a split second, he saw such a depth of conflicting emotion roiling in her ocean-blue eyes that he felt it like a vise on his chest.
But then she stepped past him and outside, her shoulders hunching against the cold.
“Drive safe,” he said, and she shot him a smile, then opened her door and got in.
He stood there in the doorway until she’d pulled out and her taillights had disappeared down the gravel drive. Only then did he shut the door.
He stood in the soft light of his living room, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he remembered the feeling of her lips on his, his heart swelling with the realization that his feelings for her had been well past friendship for a very long time. Why was he the last to figure this stuff out?
Yeah, things had changed. She wasn’t his old buddy Gracie anymore, and he knew without a doubt that he’d been wrong to kiss her. She wasn’t like the other women he’d been involved with. A kiss for Gracie meant something, and he’d just proven that there was more between them than just an old friendship.
But that didn’t change what he could give, which meant whatever he felt for her had better stop at a kiss.
* * *
AS GRACE DROVE down the highway, she tried to calm the pounding of her heart. What had she just done?
Billy was right—she’d kissed him back. That was the kiss she’d been waiting for for years...that was the way she’d wanted him to see her all that time she’d been silently and agonizingly in love with him. And his kiss had been everything she’d imagined and more. She’d never known what Billy was like when he focused on a woman that way...and just remembering that intense gaze of his as he moved closer to her made her breath catch.
For just a moment, she’d felt like the only woman in his entire world. His touch, his breath, his kiss... She leaned against the headrest and let out a slow sigh.
“Don’t fall in love with him,” she said aloud.
Because that was the problem here. She’d been kissed before. She’d had a couple of relationships and breakups before she’d come to this moment. She wasn’t naïve or hopeful enough to think that a kiss promised something. It was just a kiss. It had been a moment when they were completely alone, when he’d opened up a little bit, and he’d suddenly seen the woman in her.
These things happened. To other people, mostly. But still.
Grace swallowed hard. It would be easier to be all metropolitan and push it aside if it had been a little less memorable. But she’d never been kissed like that, never had a man make her melt into a puddle with nothing more than his deep voice and his touch.
But, oh, his voice... Billy’s laughter and teasing always made her smile, but that low, soft murmur just before he kissed her...that was something else altogether.
Some women could enjoy a kiss like that and walk away with minimal emotional trauma, but Grace wasn’t sure that she could. She’d loved him, and she’d done her best to put him behind her in Denver. To come back, see him again and finally get that kiss she’d yearned for all these years...
“Do not fall for him, Grace,” she told herself firmly.
Because he chose now to open his eyes and see the woman in front of him? Other women had snapped their fingers, and he’d been attracted right away. And she’d quietly waited...and gotten nothing back, until now. It was exasperating. She’d had her heart through the wringer too many times with Billy. They knew each other very well, and she knew his tendencies. Right now she was his only choice. She was the one woman under his nose, and Billy was a testosterone-filled cowboy. It was the man in him reacting to the woman in her...at long last. And in a way that was gratifying. But if this were meant to be, it would have happened a long time ago.
Grace drove the rest the way back to her parents’ place. There was a light on in the kitchen. She s
ighed. She wasn’t in the mood to chat tonight, but there might not be any way past it.
She got out, locked her car and headed across the frozen, hard-topped snow, toward the side door.
Nothing had changed for her, she reminded herself. Two adults had momentarily given in to some chemistry. That was all. It didn’t mean anything.
When Grace let herself in, she found her father sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of hot chocolate in front of him. He wore a bathrobe and a pair of slippers, and he looked up when she came in with a distracted smile.
“Hi, Gracie,” he said. “Out late, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said, slamming the door shut and undoing her coat. “Where’s Mom?”
“In bed already,” her father replied. “Out like a light.”
“One of those days,” Grace said, and she looked over at her father’s hot chocolate. “That looks good.”
“Want one?” her father asked. “Here, take this mug. I haven’t started it yet. I’ll make myself another.”
Her father slid it across the table and got back up. It was nice to be home and cared for. She sank into the kitchen chair and took a sip.
“So, how’s Billy?” her father asked as he poured some steaming water into a mug.
“Um.” She looked up at her dad quizzically.
“Ah, hit on it, did I?” he asked with a smile, then turned back to the task at hand. “I figured you’d be out with him.”
“Yeah, he’s okay,” Grace replied. “He’s got his hands full with his daughter, so...”
“I’ll bet. I remember having a young daughter. They keep you hopping.” Her father came back to the table with another hot chocolate, then picked up the can of whipped cream and gave it a shake. “Want some?”
Grace held her mug out toward her father and he put a generous coil of cream on top, and then did the same for his own.
“So, what did you buy with your birthday money?” her father asked.
“Oh, nothing yet,” she replied. “The shopping here is miserable. I’m waiting for Denver.”
Falling for the Cowboy Dad Page 16
