Wishing For You (Never Too Late Book 2)
Page 8
“What?” She watched with fascination as his eyes narrowed, processing what she was sharing with him.
“Someone less laid back. You know, classier. I know my lax ways bother you…”
“I love them.” His thumb traced her lower lip, and his eyes burned a little warmer. “I love every damn thing about you.” He kissed her in a gentle way that she felt zing all the way to her toes and up to her chest. He pulled away, and she was breathless. He shifted them again, lying on his back, and tucked her to his side, her hand on his warm chest, knee bent over his thigh.
“Good night, Grant.”
“Night, honey.” A smile forming on her lips, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
***
She woke up tangled up in him the next morning, minutes before he awoke, and she took the stolen moments to look at him. He was handsome and had a strength that had nothing to do with the very solid muscles he still sported. Tucking herself close into him, she held on to him, staring at the freckles on his chest, the salt and pepper hair that was sprinkled over sun-kissed skin. He was everything, and he was hers.
He moved, kissed her forehead, and she looked up at him, unable to hold back her smile.
“Morning,” she told him, his blue eyes on her lips.
“What do you have to do today?” he weirdly asked, and she thought for a moment.
“Not much,” she simply answered. He immediately flipped her over, a surprised squeal coming from her as the back of her head hit the pillow. She looked at him looming over her.
“You do now.” He winked at her, and she started to laugh, but that laugh turned into a moan as he rolled his hips into her. He was hard and long, and felt so damn good.
“Grant,” she breathlessly spoke, closing her eyes, loving the way his head came down and his mouth touched hers.
His mouth moved from her lips to her jaw. He nuzzled her ear with his nose right before he nipped it hard. The sensations were so dang brilliant they made her toes curl, and she knew they were about to have a very busy day.
Chapter Fifteen
Grant
Rhett’s trip was delayed. Grant felt guilty about being happy about the delay.
He wasn’t sure how his only son would take the news of his old man seeing someone seriously, much less someone who had been around as he’d grown up and was a close friend of his departed mother.
Those were his thoughts as he lay in silence, Shelly tucked into his side, completely nude. Two weeks had passed, and every day they were together, he learned something new about her. He learned that she slept completely nude. He learned that he enjoyed the feeling of her naked body pressed to his very much. She had an incredible mouth, whether it was to kiss or do other things. She was a terrible cook, though he had already known that. He learned that when it came to breakfast, she made amazing cinnamon rolls and great coffee.
“You’re quiet this morning.”
“I didn’t want to wake you. “ His voice rumbled, and she rolled so that she was astride his body, her breasts pressed against his arm, her hair fanned over them like a curtain, shielding what they had against the world, creating their own bubble.
“Good morning.” She smiled, making him note that she was a morning person, which surprised him because of all the late nights she was painting.
“Morning, honey.” She touched her lips to his, and his hands moved to the sweet spot right above her ass.
“Busy day?” she asked, her hand touching his jaw.
“Meetings mostly,” he shared, and she nodded. “What about you?”
“I’ll be working.” He kissed her nose, and she gave him a soft look.
“You work too hard.”
“My boss is a tyrant,” she quickly responded, and he laughed out loud. “Jess called. She wants to hang out.”
“Did you tell her about us?” he asked, slightly nervous. It was one thing they were together, but people finding out made him nervous.
“No. I was thinking about waiting until you told Rhett,” she told him cautiously, and he nodded.
“I think that’s a good idea.” She kissed him and rolled out of bed. He sat up, the sheet at his waist, and watched her pick up her clothes off the ground and get dressed.
“When do you think you’ll tell him?” she asked over her shoulder, and he fought his body from reacting at how fucking sexy she was.
“Oh… Umm… He’s coming home in a couple of days.”
“He is?” she looked at him, smiling and pulling his shirt on. He fucking loved how she looked wearing his clothes.
“Yeah, he is.”
“That’s good. You’re always happier when he’s home.” She tugged on the black yoga pants she’d worn the night before. His hands went behind his head while he watched her roll the sleeves of his light blue dress shirt up her arms.
“I think you grabbed the wrong shirt,” he stated, feeling amused, wondering what the hell she was up to.
“I did?” she asked, feigning surprise, and he shook his head.
“What are you doing?”
She walked over to him, her knee hitting the bed before she fell over him.
“You’re heavy,” he huffed dramatically, and she smiled.
“I am not.” She kissed his neck.
“What are you doing?”
“Distracting you from the fact that I’m stealing your shirt.” She licked and blew on his skin. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her.
“Why are you stealing it?” he asked, her nose at his ear.
“It smells like you. I want to wear it while I work.”
“Fine,” he gave in, wondering what he wouldn’t give to her. He had a feeling the list would be non-existent.
“See you later.” She kissed him, grabbed her bag, and waved back at him.
***
His day had been busy, and now it had just got busier. He had forgotten about a charity event he had agreed to go to. Not that that would normally be an issue. The problem had been that he had asked Brianna Delgado, an ex-runway model he’d met through friends who now designed jewelry and handbags, to go with him They’d had their fun a couple of months ago, but had stayed friends. Luckily, she wasn’t too upset when he had called to cancel.
Walking into Shelly’s yard, he was looking forward to asking her to go with him. He wanted to take her out. See her dressed up for him and show her off. As he got closer to her studio, he heard voices and laughter. He frowned.
“Dad!” Rhett exclaimed, smiling at him. He stood from the couch where he’d been sitting and walked to hug his old man.
“Rhett!” He hugged his son back. Rhett was twenty-seven, an inch shorted than Grant, but other than having Olivia’s brown eyes, it was like looking into a mirror of years past.
He could feel Shelly’s gaze on them.
“You’re back early.”
“Yeah. I was just telling Shelly I was able to get away sooner than I had thought.” He glanced over at his girl, who was sitting on her stool in front of a canvas, and his body warmed. He wished he knew how to draw. If he did, he’d paint her just the way she was now. Her hair down and wavy, wearing charcoal grey leggings and his light blue dress shirt unbuttoned and low to show some cleavage, her thread-thin gold necklaces teasing him. He wanted to see her in nothing but those damn necklaces. Maybe later tonight?
“Hey.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back. “Did you get off of work early?” she asked, glancing at the clock on her wall.
“No. I umm…” Nerves and panic struck him suddenly. He looked at his son, at the brown eyes he missed. It’s okay, Grant, let me go, the distinct feminine voice whispered in his mind, but he shook his head. He cleared his throat. “I came to pick up a suit. I forgot about an event I have to be at tonight.” The look of confusion in Shelly’s eyes too much for him to handle, he looked at Rhett.
“I didn’t know you’d be home. I can see about adding you to the…”His son’s laughter made him stop talking.
“
No, thanks, Dad. I think I’m going to go out. See about catching up with some friends of mine in town.” Grant nodded, avoiding Shelly’s eyes.
“Why don’t we let Shell work, Rhett? You can help me pick out a tie.”
“Sure. Shell, thanks for lunch!” He looked over his shoulder and saw Rhett hug Shelly, and took in the plates on the coffee table and the empty glasses.
“Anytime,” she told his son, forcing a smile, her back rigid.
“Who are you going with to this thing anyhow, Dad?” his son asked as he stood next to Shell, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.
“Why do I have to go to events with anyone?” he asked.
“Because you never go alone,” Rhett told him, and he could feel Shelly’s eyes on him.
“What? How would you know? You live on a whole other continent.”
“I do. But I get tabloids and alerts about my dad. So, who is it this time?”
“Yeah, Alexander, who are you going with?” Shelly asked. He looked at her and knew he’d messed up.
His girl wasn’t the woman sitting there completely still, guarding herself. He wanted to explain his panic, but Rhett was there, and he wasn’t sure how to tell his son about Shelly in front of her. He wasn’t sure how his son would react.
“I was supposed to go with Brianna Delgado,” he shared. Rhett whistled, and Shelly’s guarded eyes moved to the canvas.
“How does my Dad get better tail than me, Shell?” Rhett laughed, kissing her on the head.
“You know young women with old guys, Rhett. They’re only after one thing,” she sassed, and Rhett laughed as he said goodbye. Grant walked out of the studio with his son.
He ignored Olivia’s voice telling him to go back to Shell as he walked side by side with Rhett. She pleaded that he talk to her, but he ignored it.
He also ignored the pain in his chest and the burning worry in his gut.
***
Calling his assistant, he let her know he wasn’t going back into the office. Instead, he changed into a pair of old cargo shorts and a tee shirt, leaving his clothes scattered on the floor, and went downstairs, coming up with an idea of how to make it up to her.
“Rhett?”
“Yeah?” His son looked up at him. He was sitting on the couch, the TV already on, his feet on the coffee table.
“I need to talk to you.”
“What’s up?” Rhett asked, and Grant opened but then closed his mouth. How would he explain this? Pressing his lips together, biding a couple more minutes, he went for easy.
“You doing okay back in Paris?”
“It’s Paris,” he answered as if that was an answer in itself, and he ran his fingers through his hair, sitting at the other end of the sectional, his knees apart, and elbows resting there. Rhett was not one to miss things, so he sat up. “What’s up, Dad?”
“I’m...” He took a breath. “I’m not going out with Brianna Delgado tonight.”
“Okay.”
“I’m seeing someone. But before I tell you about her…” He rubbed his face. His son’s face looked amused. “What?”
“It’s Shelly.” Rhett’s lips twitched as he bit back a smile, and Grant only stared on. “Dad, you’ve been crazy about her for a while.”
“Rhett…”
“Finally.” His son smiled brightly, brown eyes looking at him, and Grant felt the need to explain further.
“It never went there when your mom was…”
“I know.” The amusement faded from his son’s face at the mention of his mother. The three of them had been close. “Mom would have probably bet money on something like this happening though.”
“What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed, and Rhett’s hands spread out behind him on the couch.
“She would want you to move on and give love a chance again, but she would have wanted you to do it with someone different.”
“Different?”
“Yeah, not like Mom. Not like her. And let’s face it, Dad, Shelly and Mom were opposites.”
“They got along.”
“So do you and Shelly.” He smiled, his gaze warm. “I’m happy for you, Dad.”
“Thanks.” His voice sounding a little hoarse, he cleared his throat.
“But I have a question. Did she know you were going to say that about going out with someone? What was that all about?”
“That was…” he started with a sigh. “That was your old man being an idiot.”
“Huh…” Rhett’s lips twitched until he just gave into his smile. “Looks like no matter how different the woman, some things don’t change.” Grant laughed, throwing a pillow at his kid. “You should go talk to her.”
“You okay with this?” Grant asked, and Rhett’s eyes met his head-on.
“Mom’s been gone a long time, Dad.” Rhett wisely answered, and something in Grant’s chest warmed.
“I know,” he chimed, and silence filled the space until his kid spoke again, imparting an opinion he had not been expecting that felt wiser than his years.
“After Mom… I was worried about you. I stuck around and watched you.”
“Rhett…”
“She didn’t let you stumble.”
“Your mom was a great lady.”
“She was, Dad, but I’m not talking about Mom. I’m talking about Shelly. She let you have your moment to grieve and drink. Shit, if I remember right, she was tossing them back next to you. But she pulled you out of your own darkness and made you go back to the living. She didn’t let you linger and dwell in your grief. She forced you to do it. This thing between you might have just started, but it’s been in the making for ten years now. We all saw it.” Rhett wasn’t saying anything he didn’t know, but it surprised him either way.
“You didn’t think in this time to let me know?” He smiled, and Rhett smiled back.
“I didn’t realize how slow your game really was, old man.” Shaking his head, he stood, watching his son look and smile wistfully at his phone before texting something back. He wondered what that was about, but he figured Rhett would tell him when the time was right. “We done with the heart to heart girl talk or should I braid your hair?”
“Yeah, smartass.”
“You have an idea of how to fix what you did?” Rhett asked, nodding next door. Grant nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I’m going to visit a…friend,” he shared, the faint pink tinge over his face telling Grant whoever he was visiting was a lot more than a friend, but he wasn’t going to ask.
“See you tomorrow.” He hugged his kid, patting him on the back before watching him leave through the front door.
After talking to Rhett, knowing how he felt and how much he supported him and Shell being together, he felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders.
Now he had work to do to get things right with Shelly and make it up to her for being an ass.
Chapter Sixteen
Shelly
After Rhett and Grant left her studio, she cleaned her brushes and set everything away. Now she was sitting in her spot, the sun starting to set over the Pacific Ocean, and as beautiful as it all was, she couldn’t get herself to enjoy it. Grant had obviously freaked out about telling Rhett and was now going to escort a semi-retired runway model? Her day was definitely not ending the way she’d thought it would when she first woke up this morning.
These last two weeks had been amazing.
Other than the fact that Grant had wanted to keep quiet about the two of them until he had a chance to talk to Rhett face to face, things had been seamless. Curling her knees up to her chest and resting her face to the side, she looked out onto the water. Her heart ached. If he did go out with someone tonight, she didn’t think she had it in her to just let him come back. It was one thing being nervous about telling Rhett; it was a whole other to go on a date with another woman.
A shadow cast over her, and she knew who it w
as without having to look behind her. She felt him wrap a plush throw over her shoulders before he sat behind her, tucking himself into her back, shielding it from the breeze. She closed her eyes.
“You didn’t go?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if I went anywhere, it should be with my girlfriend, don’t you think?” Her lips twitched at how much she liked him calling her that. She hadn’t been anyone’s girlfriend. Not ever.
His hands moved to her shoulders, and she leaned her head forward so he could rub away the knots.
“I talked to Rhett,” he shared, and she turned immediately to look at him. Without thinking, just needing to be close to him, she straddled him, her hands on his shoulders.
“Was he okay?” she asked, worried about his reaction. Would he feel that they were betraying Olivia and her memory? Would he think this was something that had been going on before Olivia passed?
“He said it was about time,” he told her, and her eyes widened. She was momentarily speechless.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled, then his face went serious. “I was a jackass. I shouldn’t have let you think I was going out with Bri tonight. I canceled with her the moment my assistant reminded me about it this morning. I had completely forgotten about the event to begin with.”
“I didn’t like thinking about you going out with someone else,” she told him. As happy as she was that he didn’t go, she was still upset at him for lying, but she also needed to be honest about how it had made her feel.
“Let me try to make it up to you?” he asked, cupping her face.
“How?”
“Our first date, tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she asked. “The opening for that new artist you picked up, Liz Stone, is tomorrow.”
“Yup.”
“So our first date is going to be at the gallery?”
“Yeah.”
“There are going to be reporters there, Grant.”
“Good. They can take pictures of me with my sexy girlfriend,” he told her, a wicked gleam settling on his face. He kept sharing. “But I still want a selfie with you.” She laughed at his stupid remark and kissed him.