Hard to Trust (Hard to Love Book 2)

by L. M. Reid

  “Gray?” I call out.

  He pokes his head into the bedroom. “Yes?”

  “What’s this?”

  “Breakfast.”

  “You made this?” He nods. “For me?”

  “For us,” he corrects.

  For us. The sentiment has me smiling like a fool; a big, toothy grin on my face. A smile that is so pure and so true that I don’t honestly know if I have ever smiled like this before. It feels so damn good. “Come here.”

  “Isn’t that my line?” he laughs.

  “Get over here,” I demand.

  He averts his eyes from me leaving them trained on the floor as he makes his way to me. He stops in front of me, but still won’t look up. I take his face in my hands and tilt it up. A sheepish look on his face, I press a firm kiss to his lips. “Thank you. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  “As glad as I am that it was me that did it, it bothers me that you haven’t had more of this in your life. I’m going to fix that.”

  “Why?” I ask unsure where this is all coming from. We barely know each other. It doesn’t make sense. It took me years to realize what Logan meant to me. How can he seem so sure of me in such a short amount of time?

  “Because you deserve it. And, because I want to be the one to give it to you.”

  My hands on his waist, I tug him to the bed with me. I sit down and pat the open space next to me.

  “So, what’s on the agenda?” I ask as we dig in.

  “It’s a surprise,” he tells me as he wipes some syrup from the corner of my mouth.

  “I hate surprises.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Too bad?” I repeat. My eyes narrow at him. “I have ways of making you talk, West.”

  “Do you now?” he chuckles. My hand slides over his thigh to the thin fabric that is covering his erection. “Ashlynn.” My name is a warning on his lips, but I don’t give a damn.

  “What are we doing today, Gray?” I whisper, sweet and sultry, as my hand cups him.

  He lets out a guttural groan that sends heat soaring through my body. “Sweetheart, I assure you if you keep that up, all you’re going to hear from me is moans, not what we’re doing today.”

  I retract my hand. Who is this man with the restraint of a saint and where did the man who needed me right then and there on my desk go?

  I fold my arms across my chest and pout like a child.

  Gray laughs again. “I promise, you’ll like it,” he says with a kiss to my cheek. “Now, get your ass ready.”

  “What am I supposed to get ready in? It’s not like…” My voice trails off as I follow his eyes to a pile of clothes on the chair.

  “I am not wearing your ex-girlfriend’s clothes.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re wearing yours; more specifically, ones that I bought for you. Just put them on.”

  I slide into the jeans and tank top that are a perfect fit and exactly like something I would wear.

  “Who delivers at this hour in the morning?” I ask as I make my way into the living room where Gray is waiting ever so patiently for me.

  He glances up from his phone. “My assistant.”

  “You had Becky bring clothes for me here? Are you insane?”

  “Not Becky, my real assistant. Her name is Nora, she’s about fifty years old and she would do just about anything for me. I checked your sizes, sent her a list and asked her to do me a huge favor with one hell of a bonus attached to it.”

  “We could have…”

  He holds up a hand to stop me. “Yes, we could have stopped by your place for you to change. But that would have meant you leaving here in the same clothes you walked in with. I am not okay with that. It looks cheap and impersonal.”

  “Who would have known?” I laugh.

  Gray isn’t amused though. The idea of me doing the walk of shame, even if it is with him on my arm, doesn’t sit well with him. And I can’t be angry about a man who respects me enough to put in this much effort.

  “Thank you,” I reply giving in to the kind gesture.

  Less than an hour later we arrive at our destination. My eyes widen at the sight before me, so far from what I expected I don’t know what to say or do. So, instead I sit here staring before me.

  “What’s wrong?” Grayson asks.

  “An amusement park?” I say hesitantly.

  “Yeah,” he replies. “Bad idea?”

  I smile. “No, not at all. It’s just… I’ve never been before.”

  “What? Are you kidding me?”

  I shake my head. I don’t know what it is, but something has me opening up to him and giving him pieces of me that I have never given anyone before. I tell him, “My mom, she, uh, she’s an alcoholic. If it’s not going to help get her next drink, she doesn’t do it.”

  “What about your dad?” he asks.

  “If I knew who he was…” I say, but trail off.

  He takes my hand in his and squeezes it. “I’m sorry. That must have been rough.”

  I shrug. “It is what it is,” I tell him acting as nonchalant as I can.

  I don’t do this; I don’t open up to people. So even though I like talking to him, I shut down and change the subject because it brings him to close.

  “Shall we?” I continue as I move to get out of the car. The small details of my life, the letting Grayson in finally hits me and I need air.

  His hand on my forearm stops me as does the sound of my name on his lips, “Ash?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re not alone anymore.”

  I gasp, his words causing my breath to hitch and my heart to swell. I don’t trust easily, except apparently when it comes to Grayson because while I may not normally be inclined to trust someone, I trust him. I trust Grayson without reason and without question. I revel in his words, in the happiness that it instills in me. Emotions I’ve never felt course through me and while I may not understand them, I allow them because they feel so damn good.

  Heading toward the entrance, his fingers laced in mine, I look down at our joined hands and then back up to him.

  “What do you want to try first?” he asks.

  Rollercoasters, carnival rides, and games are at my fingertips. All I have to do is choose. Here’s the thing though, I don’t care about any of it. All I care about is that I’m doing it with him.

  I point to the massive black steel roller coaster.

  “Are you sure?” he asks.

  “Pretty sure if I can handle you, I can handle anything,” I say with a smirk.

  “Is that what you think you’re doing? Handling me?” I bat my eyelashes at him innocently. “You keep thinking that. You have no idea what you got yourself into with me.”

  That is probably the most honest sentiment I have heard in my life. I don’t know what I got myself into when it comes to Grayson, I just know that whatever it is, I don’t want out of it.

  20

  Grayson

  I like this side of her. Okay, I like every side of her. It’s nice to see her not trying so hard, not worrying about being professional and succeeding. Breaking through her all business personality has been more successful than I could have ever imagined. Maybe we do have a chance after all.

  We make our way through the park, ride after ride. The smile on Ashlynn’s face has been permanently placed all day. I only hope that I can keep it there, help her believe in the possibility of us.

  She sways as we step off the Tilt-A-Whirl.

  “Oh my God,” she laughs. “I am so dizzy. Can we sit?”

  “There?” I ask gesturing to a bench under a tree, overlooking the lake.

  We make our way over and she collapses on the bench. “Thank you.”

  “For making you dizzy?”

  “For today. I can’t remember when I’ve had this much fun.”

  “Glad to be of service. You up for another ride or would you prefer we head back to my place for some dinner?”

  “And dessert?” she asks,
her hand on my thigh.

  “You move that hand much more and you might be getting your dessert, right now, in public.”

  She laughs again and it’s like music to me, the sound hitting me in my soul.

  I take her hand and pull her to her feet, her body falls against mine. “God, I want you.”

  I hate that the words come out because I have been trying to show her that this – it’s more than sex. But it’s true. I want her, with every fiber of my being.

  “I want you, too.”

  Like two magnets, our lips come together in the sweetest of kisses. It’s not rushed or frenzied like other’s we’ve shared. It’s slow and deliberate and gives me every damn piece of her that she can, that doesn’t scare her. I’m okay with that for now; we can work on the other parts later. But this? Her? Here in my arms?

  Fuck me, I’m done.

  ***

  The minute we walk in the front door, Ashlynn kicks her shoes off and she makes herself comfortable on the couch. I stare at her a moment, the pizza I ordered on our way home in my hand. She seems much more relaxed and comfortable this time around. And hell if it doesn’t make me like having her here even more than I did last night.

  The rain began to fall lightly on our way home and is now coming down in a steady stream outside the window. We sit silently on the couch, eating our pizza and just enjoying the comfortable silence between us.

  “Can I ask you something?” she asks.

  I hate when questions start like that. It usually means that the other person wants to talk about something that they know I don’t. This is Ashlynn though. If I really want to make an attempt at this, I need to be honest with her. Hell, a part of me even wants to.

  “Bring it on.”

  “How are you the same man that walked into my office that night, took control, and made me bend at your will?”

  “I did all that?” I joke trying to make light of her comment.

  She gives me a warning look – she’s serious.

  “Let’s just say I’m complicated,” I reply.

  “Aren’t we all? Seriously Gray – which is the real you?”

  “Why can’t I be both?”

  “A laid-back, control freak? Kind of an oxymoron isn’t it?”

  I look down at my pizza as I speak. Control. It’s what my father does to people. He controls them. It’s an inherent trait that I have and one that I work damn hard at keeping at bay. As much as I hate it, I am more like my father than I like to admit. For as alike as we are, I’m grateful that we differ even more. The things that drive us in life, what we believe makes us successful, those intrinsic details are vastly different. The biggest difference of all is that when it comes to my controlling nature, I’ve changed, he hasn’t. “I used to be a lot like my dad, driven, controlling, and arrogant. Then my mom got sick; her mind started to go, then her health. And to top it off, he left her. Just like that. He said he couldn’t bear to watch her deteriorate. I think it had more to do with the fact that she didn’t have anything to offer him anymore.” I shake my head. “Anyway, when I realized how much like him I had become, I swore I would change. I vowed never to be like him. But that controlling nature, it’s ingrained in me. I’ve just learned to control it, mostly keeping it to work.”

  “And the bedroom,” she interjects.

  “That too,” I chuckle. “Believe me though, when it comes to sex, if you want to order me around, I assure you I will do whatever you say. I may have control issues, but I’m not stupid.” With a shrug I continue, “I’m a fucking mess of issues when it comes to my father. It’s why you being with him bothers me so much.”

  “Is that what this is? Your way of trying to correct what happened to your mother?”

  “What? No. That’s not what I’m saying.” I run my hand through my hair. “I’m saying that I couldn’t protect one woman that I…” I stop myself from saying the one word that was about to so easily roll off my tongue; the word that can’t be true. “That I care about, but I can protect the other.”

  “You care about me?” she asks.

  “No. I mean, yes. Fuck,” I say with exasperation. “All I know is that I have never wanted anyone the way I want you. No one has ever affected me the way you do.”

  “Not even Reagan?”

  My head snaps to attention at the sound of Reagan’s name. “What did you just say?”

  “That’s her name, isn’t it? The woman that…”

  “That I destroyed? Yeah, that’s her.”

  The anger in my tone isn’t directed at her, but she doesn’t know that and I instantly feel guilty. I don’t like talking about my past. I most definitely do not like talking about Reagan. Yet here I am doing both.

  “I didn’t mean to…”

  “How the hell did you know her name?” I shout, irrational anger fueling me.

  “The… the pictures… you… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” she replies. “I’m… I’m just going to go.”

  She moves toward the door. “Don’t.” I hang my head in frustration – at myself, no one else. “I overreacted. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well I’m still trying to come to terms with the whole you care about me portion of the night so I’d say were both a little off our game right now.”

  “No games. Not with you.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she assures me.

  “You didn’t. I did. Reagan and I have been over for a long time, and I’m fine with that. What I can’t seem to get over is the fact that I fucked it up. I destroyed a good thing, I hurt her. I don’t want to do the same thing to you.”

  Jesus, Gray, go ahead and put your soul on the line. Might as well have just ripped my heart out of my chest and handed it to her. She waits patiently for me to get my shit together.

  “Gray…” Her voice is soft and filled with understanding.

  “Listen, what I feel for you…” I let out a sigh. “No, not even Reagan.”

  Way to go Gray, why didn’t you just tell her you love her? Damn it there’s that word again. Jesus, this is a total cluster fuck. I am in love with my dad’s girlfriend.

  She stands before me and we are both on such shaky ground, neither of us being used to this tirade of emotions that we’re feeling.

  “You were right,” she says softly. “I’m not really with him. I never was. It’s just an arrangement, something to help me secure the partner spot.”

  Yes, we’re still a mess. But this? Knowing that she really is mine and not his? It’s everything to me. Better than any damn proclamation of love she could have made.

  She presses her body against mine. “Make love to me.”

  “Ashlynn, we agreed…”

  “No one has ever made love to me before. Make love to me Grayson. Please?”

  How no one could have ever loved this woman is beyond me. She’s the complete package with a side of naughty. She’s so much more than she realizes and deserves so much better than I can hope to give her. But, if she needs to feel love, needs to experience it – now that, that I can give her.

  21

  Ashlynn

  I lie in Grayson’s arms. He holds me tight against him as if he’s afraid to let go. I would be lying if I said I weren’t afraid of the same thing. The past two days with him have been a whirlwind, nothing like I would have expected. He was sweet and gentle. He took care of me in ways that no one ever has before, not even Logan. No, the care Grayson gave me was strictly emotional and so unexpected that just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. He’s tearing down walls that I was certain were cemented in position. Little by little he chips away at them.

  He told me he cared about me. I heard the hesitation in his voice though, the words that almost slipped out but he caught just before they did. I swear he was about to tell me he loves me. The idea should terrify me, but the nervous feeling in my stomach indicates that rather than scaring me, it excites me. This undeniable draw to each other, it means something. I just wish I wasn’t so
screwed up, that this situation wasn’t so screwed up. Maybe, protests aside, Grayson and I could be something. But with everything that we’re wrapped up in, is that even possible? If he knew the truth about me – would he hate me?

  Still wrapped in his arms I contemplate what all this means, how we can mean so much to each other after such a short time. I may try denying it, even to myself, but Grayson matters to me. He’s gotten under my skin. My heart begins to race at the implication of what that means and panic sets in. Emotions, love, relationships, they aren’t for me.

  I move, sliding out of bed and grabbing my clothes.

  I gave him too much last night. My admission about my arrangement with Elliott, I gave my secret to him, served it up on a silver platter. How can I be sure that he won’t use this against me?

  Fear rises in me. Afraid that I may have blown my chance at becoming partner. Fear of what and how Grayson makes me feel. It’s those fears that have my feet heading to the door, needing to escape him and clear my head.

  Yes, I want to be with Grayson.

  The question is how? How when everything is such a mess?

  22

  Ashlynn

  “Yes, Mrs. Garrison, I promise I will do everything in my power to make your lying cheating husband suffer,” I tell my client as I show her out of my office.

  “Good. He deserves it after what he did to me,” she says angrily. Without skipping a beat, her voice changes and she thanks me ever so sweetly.

  Her driver arrives to escort her home and with one last quick wave in her direction I do an about-face, ready to head back to my office. Just as my body turns, I feel hands on me, then lips. Out of nowhere, Grayson has me against him, lips on mine.

  I shove him off of me and glance around the hallway. “Are you crazy?” I say to him in a hushed, but clearly pissed voice.

  My pulse slows when I note that the coast appears to be clear. Still, I shove him in the direction of my office.

  “No one saw,” he says with a laugh.

  His amusement at the situation infuriates me. “Do you have any idea what would happen if someone did? Jesus, Gray, this isn’t a game.”