We’d come together in a clash of fevered kisses and desperate hands. All frenzied passion that had chased away the lingering memories and still rivaled the beauty of what we’d shared the night before.
The way he’d looked at me as if there was no one else in his world. The way his hands had moved over me, gripping and worshipping and showing me how much he needed me in those simple yet vital touches. The way I love you had scraped up his throat as if he couldn’t contain the words.
I could’ve lived in that moment with him forever.
But I had a feeling no matter how we came together, I would always feel that way because it was Reed, and he’d taken hold of me. Heart, body, and soul.
We hadn’t moved as we’d come down from the highs of our time together, just continued laying in the afterglow. But his declaration had my fingers stilling for a moment before I resumed running them through his hair.
“Then do it.”
He quickly looked up from where his face had been partially buried in my chest, shock written across his features. “What?”
“You keep saying you’re going to marry me.” I held his stare and whispered, “Do it.”
Excitement and disbelief and love poured from him as he pushed up onto his hands so he was caging me to the bed. “Told you I wouldn’t drag you off to a church, but right now, I’m kinda reconsidering that.”
I fought a smile as my stomach filled with dozens of fluttering wings. Forcing myself to take a calming breath, I considered his words for a while before shaking my head. “Do we need a church?” At his surprise, I hurried to explain, “I’ve never been in a church before, and it just . . . I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like us when I think about it.” My eyebrows drew close. “Is that wrong?”
His head slanted in answer and encouragement. “What feels like us?” he asked, his deep voice wrapping around my heart.
I only had to think for a moment before the answer tumbled free. “Sunrises.”
His lips twitched into a hint of a smile. “I think we can find one of those.” Lifting one of his hands from the bed, he curled it around my cheek as his eyes bored into mine. “You really want this?”
“I want you.”
“You already have me.”
I nodded before shaking my head. “I want all of you the same way you demand all of me.”
The need and excitement pouring from him danced across my skin when he asked, “When can I marry you?”
I hesitated, my stare drifting to the sun-lit windows. “Not today.”
He passed his thumb across my lip, gently tilting my face back to his. Comfort and love swirling in his steel-gray eyes as he studied me. “When?”
I thought for a while before finally saying, “Marry me on a day where there’s no sorrow or pain or anger.” I lifted one of my hands to his chest to feel the fierce pounding there as I continued. “Marry me when it’s only sunrises and easy days followed by long nights wrapped up in each other. Marry me when we can’t go another day without belonging to each other.”
He pressed his lips to mine, the kiss soft and slow and doing dangerous, dangerous things to my heart.
“Marry me then,” I whispered. “Keep me forever.”
He smiled against the kiss and shifted to settle between my thighs, his lips moving to my ear as he vowed, “Rest of my fucking life.”
My eyelids fluttered shut and a whimper fell from my lips when his thumbs brushed across my nipples at the same moment he nipped at the base of my neck.
“I have to get ready for work,” I mumbled halfheartedly.
“Then go get ready,” he muttered against my neck as he made another pass across the hardened peaks.
A moan caught in my throat when he rocked against me, my legs curling around his hips involuntarily.
“Are you fucking kidding?” he growled when the doorbell chimed through the house. After a moment, he pushed from the bed and started grabbing at the pile of clothes we’d left on the floor the night before. “We’re finishing this.”
“I’ll be right here,” I said, fighting a smile at his growing frustration.
When the doorbell sounded again, he hurried to step into his jeans as he unlocked and flung open the door. Charging from the room and snapping, “Swear to God, if that woke Nora . . .”
I pushed up onto my elbows, biting at my bottom lip to hide my amusement. Then slowly slipped out of bed and grabbed my underwear. I was just pulling on Reed’s shirt and tiptoeing out of the room and down the hall when Reed answered the door to voices I definitely hadn’t expected to hear.
Scrambling back to the room, I hurried into my jeans as Reed’s shock floated to me from the front of the house.
“What . . .” he said slowly as if he couldn’t figure out how they were at his door. “What the hell are you guys doing here?”
“What do you mean? And why are you being so rude?” his mom asked. “How about something more along the lines of, ‘Hey, Mom and Dad! This is the place I’ve been hiding away at for years. Come in and let me show you around.’”
“At least I give you coffee when you show up,” his dad said.
“I just . . . I mean—what the fuck?” Reed stammered. “You couldn’t have told me you were coming?”
“We did,” Rachel said just as I stumbled into the living room from the hallway. “Oh, Emma, hi!”
“Hi,” I said uneasily and hoped I didn’t look like I’d literally just crawled out of bed with their son. “So good to see you again.”
“See?” Rachel said with a scoff, gesturing to me.
Reed groaned and dragged a hand over his face. “I am happy to see you. I’m just surprised. I don’t know why you didn’t say anything when I was talking to you yesterday.”
Rachel twisted to glare at where Kash stood with his arms folded across his chest.
“Don’t give me that look, Sour Patch,” he said with a shrug. “I told him we were gonna have to come meet this little girl he’s been keeping from us.”
“You didn’t say today,” Reed said with a frustrated laugh.
“Okay, first, you need to learn to clarify,” Rachel said, pointing at Kash before putting her attention on Reed. “Second . . . by the way, Reed, we’re stopping off in Savannah for the night and then continuing to your place first thing in the morning. Surprise—we’re here!”
Another one of those laughs built in Reed’s chest as she continued.
“Third, you’ve kept this from us for years. You really think we’re just gonna let more time go by before we meet our granddaughter?”
Reed held his arms out. “I told you the situation. She doesn’t live with me—she’s only here right now because Lala’s in the hospital,” he explained, dropping his voice to a whisper.
Rachel gasped. “She’s here?”
“Yes, and she’s probably awake now because you kept ringing the doorbell.” He held up a hand as if to stop Rachel’s excitement. “And like I told you: She doesn’t know. You’re gonna freak her out if you try to grandparent her when she thinks I’m just Reed.”
“Her Reed,” I added, earning a dry look from him. “Her favorite person.”
The expression that took over his face tugged at my chest because I knew she was his too. I knew Nora was so much more than some child he had custody of—he loved her like his own.
“We agreed,” he said softly, voice twisting. “Lala and I agreed not to change her life unless it was absolutely necessary.”
“It’s about to be necessary,” I told him as my own sadness wove deep. “You know it is . . . Nora does too.”
“But it shouldn’t be,” he said adamantly. “I should’ve known. I should’ve seen something was wrong. I should’ve forced her to get treatment years ago so we wouldn’t be going through this.”
I stepped up to his side and slipped my hand into his. “I know how much she means to you . . . how much she means to this entire town. And you have no idea how grateful I am that you’ve all been there for her—you
especially.” The pain weaving through my body matched the grief in his eyes, and when I spoke again, my voice wrenched with the emotions I was struggling to keep in check. “But this is Lala. She doesn’t listen to anyone, even though everyone else better listen to her.”
A strained laugh left him even as he shook his head. “What if Nora hates me when she finds out?”
“I don’t think she could ever hate you,” I said softly and gripped his hand tighter, trying to take on all his worries and pain. “But if you aren’t ready to tell her yet, then don’t. Just keep taking it day by day the way you are now. You’ll know when you’re both ready to talk about it.”
He loosed a slow breath and let his forehead fall to mine, resting there for a moment before muttering, “Okay.”
“I know you’re hurting, but don’t question yourself with Nora. If anyone knows what’s best for her, it’s you. That’s why Lala chose you.”
He wrapped our joined hands around my back and pressed me closer for a few moments before shifting away a fraction to look at where his parents stood, hunched close together. Seeming to have a hushed argument.
“Absolutely not,” Rachel hissed before Kash covered her mouth with a hand and sent us a wide grin.
“Two things,” he began as Rachel rolled her eyes, “where’s the best place to get pancakes around here? Where’s the closest hotel? And I thought you had a roommate.”
“That’s three things,” Reed argued. “Better question: How did you know where I live?”
Kash sent him a dry look that made him look identical to Reed. “Really?”
“You’re still tracking me?”
Kash just continued unapologetically staring at Reed before asking, “Pancakes?”
Rachel sighed and looked at me. “We don’t have to get pancakes.”
“How dare you,” Kash whispered, all offense that had her fighting a laugh as she elbowed him.
“I actually have to get to work,” I said a little hesitantly.
“The bookstore,” Rachel said, her eyes brightening. “How did the opening go?”
An uncomfortable hum sounded in my throat as I looked to Reed for help. When he just rubbed at the back of his neck, I said, “Well, it, um . . . it was actually fantastic. So much better than we thought it would be.”
At their obvious confusion and curiosity, Reed said, “I’ll explain later. And I actually get pancakes with Butler and Rowe on Tuesday mornings anyway—not sure if they’ll be there because things are . . . I’ll just explain all that later. A lot of shit’s gone down since we got home.”
Kash’s teasing mood disappeared as he seemed to pick up on the tension rolling across Reed’s skin. “On top of the wreck and Emma’s grandma being sick?” When Reed nodded, Kash studied him for a while before asking, “Everything good?”
Reed sucked in a breath at the sound of an interior door opening and shifted so he could see the girl slowly emerging from the small hallway. Looking at once wary of the two strangers and ready to burst from excitement at getting to spend another day with Reed.
“There’s my girl,” Reed whispered, and a small smile cracked through Nora’s unease as she quickly darted around Reed’s parents and rushed to his side. Grabbing hold of his free hand and burrowing into his leg as she stared at Kash and Rachel, who were already completely enamored with the sight of them together, given their expressions.
Reed gripped me tight before releasing me and crouching down next to her. “Nora, these are my parents. They wanted to come visit.”
Nora studied them with that intensity of hers—seeming to look right into their souls to determine their true purpose for being there while assessing if they were people she could trust—before turning to Reed. Lowering her voice to a whisper we could all hear when she said, “I heard my Lala say you don’t talk to your parents . . .”
The question in her statement was clear and settled heavily in the room.
Reed let out a stilted breath as his stare darted to Rachel and Kash. “Right,” he murmured, focusing on Nora again, “and that’s been hard. But I’ve been going to see them recently, remember?” His voice dropped lower as he assured her, “They’re good people. They’re my people.”
Her eyes widened at the claim and then drifted to me for confirmation—a move that stunned me. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the shift in her trust.
But I nodded, excitement building in my chest as a thought occurred to me. “You know . . . Reed’s parents’ names are Kash and Rachel. Rach is short for Rachel.” I held up four fingers and whispered, “That’s four letters for both of them.”
Nora’s mouth popped open wide as she looked over at them, studying them in a new light, and Reed glanced over his shoulder as he stood, all adoring bemusement on his face as he studied me.
“Has she never mentioned the four-letter thing to you?” I asked softly, and he shook his head.
“You’ll have to tell me later.”
“Oh, I think she should tell you. It’s—” I pressed a hand to my warming chest and let him pull me against his side. “It’s such a Nora way of looking at the world, and it’s beautiful.”
His stare danced over my face, all love and wonder, before darting to the side when Nora stepped up to his parents.
“My name is Nora,” she said confidently. “Have you ever been to Paris? Do you like French things?”
Rachel let out a soft laugh. “Do croissants count?”
“Yes!” Nora said, all excitement. “I like croissants the best.”
“But how do you feel about pancakes?”
“Oh my God, Kash,” Rachel whispered, her eyes rolling.
“Crêpes are French pancakes, and I think I would love those.” Nora stepped closer and whispered, “But my Lala and my Reed don’t know how to make those, so we just eat regular pancakes and make them fancy.”
A soft smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as Reed’s parents asked all about Nora’s cast—the Eiffel Tower Reed had drawn and French words I’d looked up and written. Quickly falling in love with her as she excitedly explained about Fancy Nancy and her love for all things French and fancy. All while Reed looked on with an expression that said this moment was something he never wanted to forget.
Tilting his head toward me, he passed his lips across my jaw and then brought them to my ear, pressing me close to his side as he whispered, “Rest of my life. Right here.”
“My Reed!” Nora said excitedly as she raced toward me.
I caught her up in my arms and hushed her, but the smile on my face had hers growing even wider. “Look how beautiful you are!” I said, keeping my voice soft to remind her we needed to be quiet.
“But am I fancy?” she asked quietly, leaning back to show off her dress and jewelry my sisters and mom had no doubt spoiled her with.
“The fanciest.”
She wiggled in my hold, her excitement growing. “Do you think my Emma knows?”
I made a face that earned a soft giggle from her. “No way, but she’s about to.” Setting her on her feet, I nodded in the direction of where my family and friends had changed the living room into a salon and dressing room. “Go hang out with everyone.”
She hurried back to where mine and Butler’s moms were doing their hair, and Kennedy looked over at me from where she was talking to Kira, Leah, and Jenn.
“I know,” I whispered when she tapped on her bare wrist.
“The guys are almost done out back,” she informed me as if that would hurry me.
“That isn’t going to change when the sun rises.”
“No, but you gave them forever, and you’re leaving us no time,” Jenn argued, and the other three nodded in agreement.
I just rolled my eyes, the smile on my face only continuing to grow as I made my way upstairs and to the bedroom.
The past nine months had been a roller coaster.
Once Lala was released from the hospital, I’d moved into the Wade house with Emma to be with her during the few hours
we had when both of us weren’t working, and to make the transition of caring for Lala and Nora easier.
I’d figured out a new routine where Nora was the center of it all and solely mine. Not that she’d been fazed when I’d told her what she truly was to me. She’d simply smiled and grabbed my hand, saying, “I know.” And that had been that.
And we’d tried to give Lala her freedom until that decline we’d been warned about happened . . . and were absolutely destroyed when it did. Just as the doctor had said, it was fast and drastic.
We were lucky to have five months with her before she passed, but the wake she left behind had rocked the entire town. I wasn’t sure any of us started truly moving on from it until a month later when Nora made a sign and put it in the front yard, saying our house was open for First Responder Thursday again.
Not that we’d known until the first person had shown.
Emma and I had scrambled to start cooking and hadn’t stopped the entire day, Rowe and Leah coming over with groceries and to help when we’d run out. It was the lightest any of us had felt in a long time as we’d told stories of Lala and joked, wondering how in the hell she’d been able to do all that on her own when four of us had struggled.
Thursdays had continued since, and we’d found a groove—whoever was actually cooking at the time since Butler, Rowe, and I were never on the same schedule, and the girls had their own thing going on with the bookstore.
Emma and Donna had quickly realized they couldn’t continue pulling thirteen-hour days by themselves with how busy the store was, even more with us needing to split our time between work and taking care of Lala and Nora.
But Donna had been hesitant to hire anyone else since Emma was the first person to work in the store who wasn’t family. It’d been hard for her to imagine straying further from the family part of the store even though she was the only one left.
“Family doesn’t always mean blood,” I’d told Emma one night, voice soft in the dark of the room. “Butler, Rowe, and I . . . we’re family. And Lala . . . it’s different with Butler because he grew up with her, but I have more of a connection with her than my own grandparents. Rowe would say the same. And Nora?”
Lie to Me Page 43
