****
The urgency in Grace’s kiss rattled Ayden to his core. He wanted to take it slow. However, his own eagerness to bury himself deep inside her had him pushing her to the mattress and disrobing both of them quickly, almost frantically. He lowered his lips to hers, craving the warmth of her mouth and the sweetness of her tongue. She teased and tormented him until a euphoric fervor pulsed through his veins.
“I’ve wanted to do this all night,” he murmured, his hand gliding to the side of one pert breast.
She responded by wrapping her legs around his hips and positioning herself to accept him. The plan to take his time shattered in a thunderous heartbeat. His need spiraled upward, until he drove inside her, his body trembling, his blood pounding. Never before had he felt such uncontrollable desire for a woman. It frightened and liberated him at the same time.
As one, they created the perfect rhythm until her soft moans grew louder and her breathing more erratic. His passion for her escalated when she lifted up to meet his powerful thrusts, driving him further inside her small, tight body.
“Grace, no,” he said, breathless, not wanting this to end so soon.
“I…I can’t,” she exhaled. Her muscles tensed and her hands lifted to wrap around his neck. He clung to her as her spasms gripped his swollen manhood.
“Oh…God.” He surrendered to the explosive pleasure and uncontrollable spasms. Exhausted, he collapsed atop Grace, his body shaking from the aftershock. She ran a soft hand down his back, her touch sinking straight into his soul. To bring her closer, he shifted on his side. In the stillness, he kissed her damp temple and traced a finger over her petite curves.
She flattened her palm on his chest, his heart still pounding at an erratic rate. They lay awake for a while, caressing and memorizing this moment.
The next morning, Grace awoke to a fire-lit room and an empty bed. Morning had yet to peek through the quilt still hanging from the window. Missing Ayden already, she slipped on the shirt he’d worn the day before and tiptoed downstairs. In her mind, she kept remembering what he said. “I want you.”
No, he didn’t love her, but she grasped what he gave her and held on tight. Her entire life, at least the parts she remembered, she’d read the back of a book before she committed to reading all the pages. If it ended badly, she’d put it back on the shelf and reach for another. How ironic she’d seen the end to this story and was still willing to live every moment of it without regret.
From the bottom of the staircase, the French doors lay open in the living room. Unsure why he’d be there, she rounded the corner and froze.
“Oh God.” Rick.
Her heart gave a sickening thud. She turned toward Ayden, finding his stance rigid in form and his face stoic in emotion.
“I don’t want to know why you’re wearing this man’s shirt,” Rick said with a nervous laugh. “What I do want to know is…” He paused to pull a small black box out of his brand-new winter coat. “Will you marry me, Grace?”
Grace’s mouth went dry and she tried to say something—anything to keep the moment from getting any more awkward. How many days did she dream of him asking her this? How many of those days did she imagine saying yes, before changing her answer to no?
“I…” Sweat gathered between her breasts and her heart sank a little deeper inside her chest. She needed to tell him it was over between them. She needed to start saying aloud how she felt about the situation when it was happening. She closed her eyes, and in a firm voice, said, “No.”
“What?”
Her eyelids flew open when both men exclaimed with the same question. She glanced from Rick and then to Ayden, realizing both held twin expressions of astonishment.
“May I have a word with you, Grace?”
This came from Ayden, and she knew what awaited her in their private conversation. He’d probably even ask for that grateful kiss now that Rick had come to whisk her away.
To save them both time, she slipped in front of him, her shoulders pulled back and her chin lifted to a daring angle. “No,” she said. It felt good to say the word, so she said it again. “No, Ayden, you may not have a word with me because I know what you’re going to say, and I’m not in the mood to hear it. I love you, and that’s how it is. You can run from it if you want, but it’s how I feel, and nothing you say will make me change my mind.” A loud heartbeat later, she rotated back to Rick. “No, I will not marry you. You’re only here because you’re afraid to lose a backup when you get lonely. Well, I’m no one’s backup. Not any more.”
She smiled at her bravado, not even wondering how long it might last. For now, she’d spoke her mind and her heart. With Ayden, he’d expected her to say yes to Rick. From his reaction, she had no doubt he’d wanted her to say yes. Furthermore, for a man who remained unemotionally attached to any human being, she understood he needed her to say yes. He stepped toward her, and she backed away, swallowing a lump of tears that gathered at the base of her throat.
“I told you how it was going to be, Grace. I told you from the beginning.”
Yes, and she’d ignored every warning bell. “All the reason to blame no one but myself.”
He exhaled and shook his head. “In that case, you should probably know I just talked to Fitz.” His gaze locked on her face. “He said your sister is in San Francisco, and that she has been there the entire time.”
A cold wave of shock fell over Grace.
“Of course she has,” Rick interjected. “This was all some damn joke by your friend to make me believe you ran off to be with another guy.”
Grace couldn’t believe what either of them were saying was true. This time, Ayden reached her, and her feet didn’t move. He braced his strong hands on each side of her arm, the warmth of his palms seeping through his thin button down shirt.
“I’m afraid what Rick said is true. While you were sleeping, I made some calls. Your friend Betsy happens to be Jolene’s great-niece. Jolene told me she coordinated bringing us together—with Danielle and Trevor’s help, of course.”
The blood rushed from Grace’s face, and she slumped down on the sectional in a state of numb astonishment. She cupped her hands over her mouth, embarrassed that a group of women—a sister, a friend, and a stranger—saw the pathetic direction of her life and sought to intervene. They knew in the beginning, when her mother turned desperate eyes to her to fix the situation, she’d say yes.
“Grace, are you all right?”
Through the fog of her thoughts, she glanced up to find Ayden’s features full of concern and disappointment.
“I’m sorry they pulled you in the middle of this.”
He bent down and placed his palm on her bare knee. She let it rest there, unwilling to break the last moments of connection between them. “I’m not.”
Remembering what he told her during their first morning together, she cupped her hands on both sides of his face and pulled his firm lips to hers. It was one of the most emotionally charged kisses she’d ever let herself feel. When she pulled away, she was shaking. She glanced up at Rick, his mouth open with silent shock.
“Rick, would you wait out there? I have to talk to Ayden about something.”
Rick hesitated a step before shuffling out beyond the French doors.
She laid a palm on Ayden’s face and brought in a deep, stuttering breath. A cold tear slipped down one side of her cheek and landed on her bare knee. “I won’t ask you to ask me to stay, and I won’t ask if you love me.”
His gaze lowered, and she understood he struggled on what to say to make this easier for her.
“Please don’t do this.” His voice was hoarse and trembling.
“Tell Maggie I broke your heart in a thousand tiny pieces, okay?”
“Grace—”
She smashed her lips together to keep from sobbing, stood, and walked out of the room. She talked Rick into taking her to the train station that would then take her to the airport. Of course, he had no problem leaving her without a word or conve
rsation.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Like a zombie, Ayden walked around the house cleaning what needed cleaned and refusing to throw away any items Grace had left behind. There wasn’t even a chance to get used to the idea. One minute they were making love, and the next she was gone. Hell. If he knew she was leaving so soon, he would have made himself last longer, a lot longer. His heart clenched every time he thought of her, every time he thought of how he’d allowed her to leave.
Then again, what sort of life could he provide for her when he planned to sell Hearth’s Gate and live in his construction trailer until he found a small enough place? He even thought about moving in with Maggie until Kyle returned, but his sister refused to speak to him after he told her the truth of what he’d coerced Grace into doing for him.
Even Jolene tried explaining things, leaving Maggie confused and furious. His sister, of course, didn’t blame Grace, seeing her only as a victim to his continuous run of bad choices and his idiotic determination not to commit.
Unfortunately, Sarah did talk to him and gave him a good scolding whenever she came by the worksite to drop off Neil’s lunch.
“You should be ashamed of yourself, Ayden McCabe. Poor Grace. She’s probably so heartbroken she ran back to that other guy just to get over you. She’s going to end up married to him and miserable for the rest of her life, and it’s all your fault.”
Hearing this threw Ayden into one of his worst moods. He brooded and stalked around the house until he’d forgotten Rachel’s visit regarding Hearth’s Gate.
She’d traded in her jeans and O’Shannon’s four-leaf-clover T-shirt for a pair of cherry-red stilettos and a matching thigh-high dress. She greeted him with a kiss on the lips, sashaying inside and handing him her black wool coat and leather purse.
“Where shall we do this?” She touched the tip of her tongue to her glossy mauve-painted lips and sent him a sly smile.
He wanted his body to react to her, to forget Grace and carry on as if she didn’t plague his mind every second of the day and night.
“The kitchen,” he said toward Rachel, knowing he didn’t have to show her the way. However, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember one memory of their time here together. Hell, he couldn’t remember being with anyone except Grace.
As he tried to shake the haunting memories, Rachel sauntered her body so her curved hips glided with a rhythmic invitation. He followed her and sat down beside her, she scooting her chair closer to his, too close. She reeked with celebrity perfume and hair-care products.
For a distraction, he glanced out the window into the darkening horizon. The sky reminded him of his mood. While he brooded, Rachel pulled a stack of papers from a collapsible briefcase and placed them on the table before him. “I’ve taken the liberty of drawing up a seller’s contract. You can take some time to look over it, or you can sign, and we can get things rolling right away.”
He clenched and unclenched his jaw. “Just tell me where to sign the damn thing.”
He heard her intake of breath, and he realized he was still an ass, with or without Grace. Slowly, he placed his palm on her arm. “I’m sorry.”
Rachel’s long, painted fingertips came up to caress his face. It tickled more than aroused, and he drew away.
“Ayden, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use those words before.”
He glanced up at her, knowing what she was going to do and having neither the will nor the substance to stop her. She kissed him, grappling for something he had no power to give.
When she began unfastening the buttons, he cleared his mind of everything and everyone. He focused only on the zipper of her dress and the laced bra that clasped in the front. Her long fingernails dug into his back, and he seized her open mouth. She tasted of artificial sweetener and flavored coffee, turning his stomach.
“Don’t stop, Ayden,” Rachel whispered, her panting hot and damp against his cheek. At that point, he knew his heart belonged to one woman and one woman only. He was madly in love with Grace. God help him.
“Rachel,” he grunted, righting her dress and pushing her gently away. “I can’t.”
She clicked her tongue before shrugging back into her clothes. “Believe it or not, I didn’t come here to seduce you. I still need you to sign the papers, if you plan on selling this place.”
“I’ll get a pen.” Of course, he couldn’t find one when he needed it. Not one place in the entire house had a pen. Even Rachel, who’d searched her bag, came up empty.
“Dammit,” he cursed, knowing where one might be and dreading having to open the door to retrieve it. Before going in, he grabbed a small flashlight and strolled inside, trudging to the large cabinet of heirloom china. He searched through every drawer, his temper growing hotter by the time he reached the last one. Every fiber of his being stretched taut with unsettled frustration. The drawer opened halfway, before snagging on something and refusing to budge.
Annoyed with the world, he yanked at the brass knob, the drawer giving way and spilling a Pandora’s box of contents on to the dusty floor.
“Are you all right in there?” Rachel asked from the kitchen.
“I’m fine,” he called back, lifting his friend’s dog tags from underneath a pile of letters. He remembered the day he’d received the manila envelope, a hand written note from Mark’s young widow tucked inside.
“He talked about you all the time and asked if anything ever happened to him, that I send these to you. God bless. Rose.”
Ayden clutched the tags, squeezing the thin metal until he felt them bend. He knew, by keeping his friend’s memory locked up, Ayden had not given himself the chance to accept what happened. As well, blaming his parents’ circumstances did not change anything or bring any of them back. For so long, he’d been a coward, hiding behind a shield of indifference, an armor of resentment. Now, what had his staunch ideals and stubbornness cost him? Grace?
His heart hung heavy in his chest, stealing his breath. Before he left the room, he needed to reconcile with his pain and his loss. He believed it took being with her to see this. Although he appeared to keep moving forward, he’d remained as stuck as her. He let out a shaky exhale, allowing the weight of regret to fall from his shoulders. Reconciled to allowing his heart to heal, he stood and began to walk away. He’d taken three steps before his foot crunched on an object halfway toward the door. He stooped down, put the small flashlight in his mouth and inspected the unopened package, tied with a gold ribbon. A tiny discolored envelope was taped to the top. He opened the flap, his heart jolting at the hand-scribed note inside.
To my greatest love who made all my dreams come true. Will you marry me again?
Connor
Ayden’s stomach sank to the floor. His mouth dry and his hands shaking, he untied the ribbon. Inside, on a bed of purple velvet, lay a white diamond ring stuffed with a rolled-up parchment paper.
He unrolled the stiff letter, his eyes watering as he read his father’s timeless words, dated two days before his parent’s accident.
Ida,
I will never forget what you said to me when I asked if you’d like to open up a Bed and Breakfast. You said, Yes. Then, when I asked if you’d like to open one in America, you said, “All right, but will I need to learn to cook?” From that moment, I knew I’d fallen in love with the right woman. You believed in my dreams and made them your own. And I know I’ve been the most difficult ass to live with at times, idiotic, in fact, but there will never be another man to love you like I do.
Connor
Ayden swiped the tears from his face. Ever since he’d lost his parents, abandoned his unit, and lost his best friend, all in a matter of weeks, he’d swore to himself not to have anyone depend on him again. It had cost his heart too much pain and resentment. “I’m so sorry,” he cried, his shoulders trembling from years of pent-up emotions.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Rachel called again.
Ayden dropped the light into his hands and glanced up t
o find Rachel standing in the doorway looking into the room as if it had appeared from out of nowhere. “Yeah…yes.” He cleared his throat and stood, placing the ring and letter back into the box. He needed to talk to Maggie, to someone who would forgive him for the misguided grudge he’d held onto for so long. He also wanted her to tell him how to fix what he’d broken, because he wasn’t sure he knew how.
Deciding to hold off on signing Hearth’s Gate over to the realty company, he coaxed Rachel to her car and called Maggie. He supposed the tone of his voice made her quit work a little early. She agreed to meet him at Bethany’s Ice Cream Shoppe with Ciara and Collin. Of course, the first words out of Collin’s mouth were, “Where’s Aunt Grace?”
Maggie narrowed a warning stare in her young son’s direction before hurriedly ordering him a banana split to keep him occupied. “I’m sorry to hear about your friend. You never talked about him, I didn’t know.”
Ayden nodded. “He was a good man and a hell of an officer.” Ayden spent the next few minutes telling his sister about Mark. “For so long, I didn’t want anyone to care about because I felt like I’d let everyone down in my platoon…and in my life.”
“You didn’t let me down,” she said, quick to take his hand and give it a squeeze.
He had to disagree. “If you remember, little sister, you didn’t want anything to do with me when I came back. You were a rebel without a cause, never home and defying everything I said. When you met Kyle, I was even less important. Then you got married, and well…” He paused to ruffle Collin’s already disheveled hair.
“God, I forgot what I brat I was,” she said with her chin tilted toward her chest. “But you have to know, Ayden, without you coming back here, I probably would have ended up in a really bad place.” She stopped talking for a moment and swiped a stray tear. “Anyway, I wanted to thank you and thought the flyer was a good way. I guess…I thought…if you found someone who deserved you, you’d find a way to keep Hearth’s Gate and everyone would live happily-ever-after.”
In Mistletoe Page 21
