Her Texas New Year's Wish

by Michelle Major

  He entered the building, using the code that appeared on his phone. The converted house had two apartments on the first floor. The staircase that led to the second floor was narrow, and he couldn’t imagine how Grace would have climbed the stairs. Obviously she’d made it to the second floor somehow.

  She stood in the doorway of one of the upstairs apartments, looking more beautiful than ever in a simple sweater and a pair of loose sweatpants with the right leg cut off at the knee. Her hair was down around her shoulders, and although he’d seen her almost every day for the past week, there was something different about her tonight—a light in her eye that hadn’t been there before.

  “Welcome to my apartment,” she said, backing up the scooter to give him room to enter. “It’s not fancy, but guess what?” She took his hand as he entered and drew him close for a lingering kiss. “We’re alone.”

  The thought sent a sensation surging through him. He gave his body a silent command to settle down. Being alone with Grace didn’t change anything. They were dating or friends or friends who were dating, depending on how he felt at any given moment.

  “Why the change in location? Is everything okay with your family?” He squeezed her fingers. “I hope I didn’t cause lingering problems between you and your mom because of updating her. Like I said—”

  “Wiley, stop.” She looked at him strangely, and he realized he was blathering. He wasn’t a man who spoke compulsively or without prior thought. He chose his words deliberately, took action with purposeful thought. Wiley valued control above almost everything else, and suddenly one soft-spoken woman had turned everything he knew about himself on its side. “Everything is fine with my family.” She shut the door behind him and released her hold on his hand, moving across the hardwood floor on the scooter toward the small kitchen positioned at the other end of the open space.

  “Then why are you here?” He looked around the apartment and saw Grace’s personality reflected in almost every part of it. It wasn’t fancy, but from the row of bookshelves to the framed botanical posters above the slipcovered sofa, he could imagine her choosing every item with care. A complete contrast to his apartment in a sleek complex in downtown Chicago. He’d lived in his place for nearly seven years and had yet to hang a single piece of art on the walls.

  The more time he spent in Rambling Rose, the more obvious it became that he was living life but hadn’t created a home.

  “I actually have you to thank once again,” she said, grinning at him over her shoulder. “Thanks to your bullying, I didn’t cancel the PT appointment yesterday.”

  “Bullying is such a harsh word,” he told her with a grimace. “Can we use support or encouragement?”

  “Bullying in the best way possible.” She turned to him. “I needed it. You were right. Avoiding therapy wasn’t going to help me heal faster or make anyone forget about the injury. The cast is kind of a giveaway, you know?”

  “That doesn’t explain you moving back to a second-floor apartment.”

  “The therapist was wonderful. She gave me some exercises to help strengthen my leg muscles for the time I’m still in the cast. I explained to her how much trouble I’d been having with the crutches. She helped me learn to use them more effectively.”

  Grace pointed to the metal crutches that rested against the wall. “We even did some work on getting up and down stairs. Once I felt more confident, I knew I could move back here. I don’t have to stay with my parents anymore.”

  “That’s great.” The radiant smile she gave him did funny things to his heart. “And your folks are okay with it?”

  Her smile dimmed slightly. “They aren’t thrilled,” she admitted, “but it’s not their choice. My dad picked me up from work and drove me here this afternoon while Mom did some grocery shopping, so I won’t starve.” She opened the refrigerator to reveal the fully stocked shelves. “Once they saw that I could manage the stairs, it made them feel better about things. I need this so badly. I need to feel like I can make it on my own.”

  “Of course you can,” he said because even though he didn’t like to think of her struggling, he knew her independence was important to who she was, and he’d never take that from her. “You know I’ll help with anything you need.”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, biting down on her lower lip. “And I do have a few places that are achy.”

  He immediately took a step closer. “Have you been overdoing it at the hotel?”

  She chuckled and tapped a finger to her mouth. “I hurt right here,” she told him with a wink. “Any chance you’ll kiss it and make it better?”

  Every feeling of desire Wiley had locked down came roaring back to the surface. They were alone in her apartment. The thought of what it might mean made his body grow heavy with need.

  Just as he reached her, the landline phone on the counter rang.

  “Hold that thought.” Grace pointed at him. “I think the pizza just arrived.”

  Food was the last thing Wiley cared about at the moment, but he opened the door for the delivery guy after Grace buzzed him into the building. To his surprise, she’d already paid over the phone, so all that was left for Wiley to do was hand the kid a couple of dollars as a tip.

  “You don’t have to buy me dinner,” he told her as he carried the box to the two-seater kitchen table positioned in front of a window. “I’m the man. I should pay.”

  He wanted to slap himself as soon as the words left his mouth, and she flat out laughed at that statement. “You need to update your thoughts about relationships,” she told him as she pulled two plates from the cupboard. “As much as I appreciate your gentlemanly tendencies, I’m a modern woman.”

  “I’m an ass,” he muttered. “My mom and my sisters would kill me if they overheard that.”

  “Your intentions are noble.”

  “That’s something, I guess. Are you sure you want to put up with me?”

  She laughed again. “It’s only for a couple—” He watched as she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. There was the reminder of his dwindling time in Texas, which was beginning to feel like a specter haunting the moments he shared with Grace.

  So many things would be easier once he returned to Chicago. Although Wiley was keeping up with his client load, working remotely meant everything seemed to take longer than it would if he were handling it at the main office. Despite that, he found he didn’t want to think about leaving Rambling Rose or Grace. Especially Grace.

  “Would you like a beer?” she asked when she met his gaze again, her eyes almost aggressively bright. “I had my mom pick up the same brand you ordered at dinner the other night.”

  “You’re wining and dining me.” He took the plates from her hand and leaned forward to kiss her neck, needing the sweet scent of her to ground him in the moment and help him forget the inevitable end to their time together. “I should push you out of your comfort zone more often.”

  Her shoulders relaxed, as though she appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood. “Be careful, Counselor,” she warned, “or this modern woman might push your comfort zone right back.”

  * * *

  Grace couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so content. It was nearly ten and she sat cradled in the crook of Wiley’s arm as the final scene of an old sci-fi movie played on her small TV.

  He was the first man she’d had in her apartment, and nerves had plagued her after she’d texted him the invitation earlier. She knew her place wasn’t anything special, especially for a man who was probably used to living the high life in the city. Most of her furniture consisted of hand-me-downs from her parents or thrift-store finds. She’d shared a duplex apartment with her ex-boyfriend in Horseback Hollow and after discovering the depth of his betrayal, she’d been so intent on getting out of town, she’d simply left behind everything that wouldn’t fit in her car.

  It had only been a year since she
’d returned to Rambling Rose, but her relationship with Craig seemed like a lifetime ago. It still amazed her how deeply she’d come to care for Wiley in such a short time. Maybe it was due to growing close to him in the aftermath of her accident, but Grace couldn’t help but believe there was more to their connection.

  If only she didn’t keep getting the unwanted reminders that he’d be leaving sooner than later. She snuggled against him, reminding herself to stay in the moment instead of worrying about things she had no control over. That plan seemed to be serving her well as far as her job. Even though Jillian had found ways to remind Grace every day since her return about all the ways she wasn’t contributing to progress toward the grand opening, Grace stayed focused on the pieces she could do. She’d invited owners of various local businesses, and plans for the Rambling Rose partnership reception were almost complete.

  When the movie’s credits rolled, Wiley dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her forehead. “This is nice,” he said, one hand tracing lazy circles on her arm. The featherlight touch did funny things to her insides, her pulse thrumming at the thought of being truly alone with this irresistible man. Up until now, the only moments they’d had to themselves had been in his car, and there was only so much that could happen with a console separating them.

  Not that a lot more could happen with her leg in the cast, but Grace tipped up her chin and trailed kisses along Wiley’s strong jaw. His arms tightened around her, and he claimed her mouth, their tongues meeting as the kiss deepened. She wound her arms around his neck, reveling in the heat that surrounded her.

  It felt like she could kiss him forever and never tire of it. Her body grew heavy with need and she shifted, wanting to get closer but not quite able to manage it with the cast hindering her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her when a frustrated sigh escaped her lips. “Am I hurting you? Is it your leg?”

  She pulled back to gaze into his dark eyes. “I want more,” she whispered. “What would the physical therapist think of me if I asked her how to manage...” She broke off and wrinkled her nose. “Being with you despite my cast.”

  One side of his mouth twitched. “I’m not sure, but I like the way your mind works.” He smoothed a stray lock of hair from her face. “I like everything about you, Grace. So much so that I don’t want to rush this.”

  As much as her brain appreciated his chivalry, Grace’s body wasn’t cooperating. “Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked, then felt heat rise to her cheeks at her own bluntness. Grace wasn’t the type of woman to ask for what she wanted or take the lead in the bedroom. But it was different somehow with Wiley.

  A thought wiggled its way into her mind. Maybe Wiley was being a gentleman because he didn’t feel the same way about her. Although even her dad seemed to be warming to him, her brother still had suspicions about his motives. Jake still seemed to believe Wiley was protecting his family by getting close to her and sent her at least one text a day with some sort of veiled warning about not opening her heart to the Fortune attorney.

  Grace didn’t bother to tell Jake it was way too late for that. Her heart was already well in the mix.

  She held her breath as she waited for Wiley’s response. She could feel his heart beating a rapid-fire pace against his chest. “No pressure,” she added when he didn’t respond. “I’m not expecting anything to happen. Sleeping, of course. But otherwise—”

  “Yes.” He said the word with a level of reverence that sent shivers across her skin, then kissed her again.

  By the time he finally pulled away, Grace felt dizzy with need.

  “Don’t ever doubt that I want you,” he told her. “I do, Grace. So badly.” He reached out and placed a hand on her leg just above the cast. “But not until you’re healed totally. What I have planned for the two of us is going to be worth the wait. I promise.”

  “Okay,” she said, her voice a squeak. How else could she answer?

  She pushed away from him, needing a little bit of distance because she felt like she was in danger of spontaneously combusting. “I’m going to change into my pajamas and...” She covered her face with her hands. “This is weird, right? We’re two adults—who are dating—and we’re having a platonic sleepover. You must think I’m the biggest dork you’ve ever met.”

  “I think you’re amazing,” he assured her. He rose from the sofa, grabbed the remote to turn off the television and then extended his hands toward her.

  She allowed him to pull her to standing but shook her head when he bent as if to pick her up. “I can make it to the bedroom on my own.”

  “Amazing,” he repeated.

  She laughed at that. “It’s not far.”

  “I’m going to text Callum,” Wiley said, “and tell them not to expect me home tonight.”

  She made a face. “Is that going to be weird?”

  “I’m a grown man,” he reminded her. “They might give me a little grief, but no one will be shocked.”

  As she made her way to the bedroom, Grace wasn’t sure whether to be comforted or terrified by Wiley’s comment. Did he make a habit of spending the night away from the ranch in beds that didn’t belong to him?

  No reason to go looking for trouble when it had a way of finding Grace without any prompting on her part. It only took a few minutes to change into her pj’s and finish her nighttime routine.

  Wiley was sitting on the edge of the bed when she came out of the bathroom. He’d taken off his sweatshirt and socks and shoes but still had on a T-shirt and jeans.

  Somehow the sight of his bare feet on her rug made Grace’s toes curl.

  “Are you planning to sleep in your clothes?” she asked, trying for a light tone.

  He shrugged. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  She kicked out her injured leg. “The cast beat you to it. It’s okay, Wiley. I know nothing is going to happen between us, but I want you to get a decent night’s sleep, as well.”

  He rose and approached her, running his hands up and down her arms. “Even if I don’t sleep a wink, it will be worth it to spend the night holding you.”

  Damn, the guy knew what he was doing with the smooth talk.

  She reached for his belt, slowly unbuckling it as she felt him watching her. “I’m glad to hear you say that. But drop trou, Mr. Fortune. I’m ready for bed.”

  He grinned at her teasing, and Grace felt her heart tug once more. She liked who she was with Wiley. He seemed willing to let her be who she was in a way that most people didn’t appreciate, and that gave her the confidence to explore her inner strength.

  Too bad she couldn’t spend the whole night exploring him.

  She climbed into bed and watched him undress, forcing herself not to whimper as he tugged off his T-shirt to reveal the most perfect physique she’d ever seen in person. He was lean and muscled, hard planes and angles on display in a way that reminded her of an actual sculpture. A smattering of dark hair covered his chest.

  And he was going to spend the night with her.

  He joined her under the covers, and she flipped off the light, then sighed with pleasure as he pulled her close. As much as she wanted him, there was something about the comfort of his arms around her that made the fatigue she tried to keep at bay rise up like a wave inside her.

  “You can sleep, Grace,” he said against her hair, as if he could sense her struggle to remain awake. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She loved the sound of that, although she told herself not to forget that he meant he was with her for now. So for now she cuddled up against him and drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next week went by more quickly than Grace could have imagined. Between work at the hotel in the mornings and working at home on the business leaders’ event during the afternoon hours, plus the physical therapy sessions and her time with Wiley, it felt like every minute was filled wit
h something.

  She’d never been happier.

  It was strange that falling off the balcony seemed to be a catalyst for her newfound sense of confidence. Yet there was nothing like knowing she could have died to make her realize she needed to be willing to take more chances in life.

  Grace had started to speak up more in meetings and insert her ideas, not only for the opening, but for how she thought things would work best in the daily running of the hotel once they were filled with guests. To her surprise, the Fortunes seemed happy to let her take the lead, and she realized that the point of the training program might have been more than simply familiarizing locals with the business model. Because they were committed to hiring most of the hotel staff locally, the Fortune family needed a way to make sure whoever they chose was going to be up for the job.

  Grace and Jillian had similar backgrounds and experience in hospitality, but they had very different methods for how to deal with guests and the hotel’s overall ambiance. Jillian clearly felt as though it should be an exclusive oasis that would cater to big-city guests from Houston or other parts of the state who wanted to get away from the pressures of city life but still retain the trappings of privilege. Grace saw the value in that, but because she’d grown up in Rambling Rose, she also understood what the town had to offer. Her idea was to capitalize on the community feel. Yes, the hotel was an escape but one that guests would choose in part because of the charm of the surrounding area.

  It’s why her Rambling Rose partnership reception felt so important. She wanted local business owners to buy in on the hotel so that when it opened and guests came to town, the community would welcome them in a way that would make people want to return over and over.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  The soft knock on the office door had her glancing up from her laptop. She grinned as Wiley entered, looking handsome as ever in his dark suit and crisp white tailored shirt.

  “You’re never an interruption,” she told him, feeling the familiar rush of heat that rose to her cheeks whenever Wiley spoke to her. Since she moved back to her apartment, he’d been over almost every evening for dinner. He didn’t always spend the night but stayed long enough to kiss and caress her until her body was on fire with wanting more.