“All right,” I said and kissed her forehead. I cracked open the worn board book. “Just one more time, then you really need to go to sleep.”
She grinned triumphantly and again I read the story I could recite in my sleep.
After two more times, she’d finally gotten sleepy enough to let me leave, and I’d shut her door gently after turning out her light.
My heart was heavy—as it had been all week—as I walked away from her room. I’d been spending as much time with her as possible, wanting to savor every moment I could.
On the opposite side, I’d been practically tiptoeing around her father—dodging him between practices, making sure he was taken care of without actually being present, and changing the subject anytime he caught me in the hallway and tried to mend the space between us.
I didn’t see what there was to talk about. Yes, I hadn’t wanted my mother to drop the news about the Paris internship at the Thanksgiving dinner table, but it didn’t give him the right to act like I’d betrayed him. He was the one who had always pressured me to strive for more with my artistic goals, and now I had.
Of course, I would’ve given that up for him in a second if he’d given me one good reason.
I yanked my hair out of the tight top-knot I’d had it in as I pushed through the door to my room. I froze with my fingers in my hair.
Gage’s massive frame took up half my bed as he sat perched on the edge, his elbows on his knees. He shrugged at my opened mouth stare. “You can’t avoid me in here.”
In reality, I couldn’t avoid him anywhere—he was constantly on my mind and in my heart. It didn’t change things, though. I swallowed the hurt in my throat and popped a hand on my hip. “Something on your mind?”
“You know there is,” he said, his eyes trailing my body up and down in a slow, hungry graze.
Flames licked my skin from the look. It had been a couple weeks since we’d made love, and it felt like a damn eternity. I’d never had anything as elemental, or powerful as I’d had with Gage, and I knew everything in the future would pale in comparison.
Once again the epic battle between my heart and mind played out in my head. Maybe Lettie and Gage were enough. Maybe I didn’t have to take the internship and pine over a baby that was never a possibility. Maybe---
“Bailey,” Gage said, my name a sigh on his lips as he stood up.
Warm chills danced along my spine as he took the few steps that separated us. I arched my head to meet his eyes—he was so tall—but I didn’t reach out to him.
“I---“
“Lettie has been working hard in her studio,” I cut him off, stepping around him to stand in front of my vanity. I took off my small earrings more to give my hands something to do than anything. I didn’t trust myself with Gage, here in my room, the energy between us as hot and electric as ever. It made me want to toss everything else that mattered to me in the trash and just let him take me.
“Secret project.”
I turned around, tilting my head at him.
He raised his hand and shook his head. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”
My shoulders dropped. “You are an excellent secret keeper.”
He hissed. “I wasn’t intentionally keeping the vasectomy from you…” He raked his fingers through his hair.
“Bull shit.”
“Okay, fine. In the beginning, I didn’t know it was something you had to know that second, and then when we happened…” he gestured between us. “I honestly had no clue how to tell you. But, think about it, would you have even tried with me if I had told you up front?”
“That’s what you don’t get, Gage. Of course I would’ve! It’s…” I sighed, trying to lose the anger gripping my chest. How could he not see it was about way more than this? “It’s fine. It’s done,” I said, unable to explain it more clearly than I had before.
“It’s not fine! Fuck, Bailey. I can’t stand the distance we’ve had between us these last couple weeks. It’s fucking with every aspect of my life—how I move on the ice, how I sleep at night, how I wake up in the morning.”
Pain coated his eyes and it made the already stinging break in my heart pulse. I stepped toward him and timidly reached my hand up to cup his cheek. “You’re going to be fine. You’ll bounce back,” I said with tears coating my eyes. “You always do. And, let’s be honest here, you never anticipated me coming in and shaking up your world. I’m sure the minute I leave, you’ll be back to your old tricks in no time.” I tried to make a joke out of it, tried to make it sound like the thought of him returning to the puck-bunny-parade wasn’t ripping my heart out.
He gently clutched my shoulders. “That’s not what I want, damn it.”
The fire in his eyes matched the heat in my blood. “What do you want then, Gage?”
“You. Every second of the day.” He traced his fingertips over the bare skin of my arms, a trail of chills erupting underneath his touch. “I want to wake up next to you, fall asleep next to you. I want to hold you on tough days and dance with you on good ones. I want you here for Christmases, and birthdays, and every single milestone in Lettie’s life.”
I sucked in a shaky breath, drawing closer to him despite knowing I shouldn’t. “We’ve been over this. I want that too, but I also want more.”
The conflict played in his eyes, turning the blue sharp like a gemstone. In some deep portion of my heart, I could see his stance, understand his side of the argument. Me telling him I wanted a baby someday in the future was—in his mind—the equivalent of saying he and Lettie would never be enough for me, that there was zero chance they could ever fill that hole in my heart where my own flesh and blood would be. But it wasn’t true. There was every chance I could find my happily ever after in just the three of us—it was his inability to even budge on the matter, to entertain the idea that was pushing me further away from him.
“I know, and I’m sorry---“
“You won’t give me a family.” I finished the statement for him. “You won’t even open yourself up to the possibility.”
“You already have one foot out the door, Bailey!” His tone was sharp and he pointed toward my bedroom door like I would bolt at any minute.
His chest rose and fell as his breathing kicked up, the dark look he got right before a fight flashing across his face. Something inside me twisted with need.
“You don’t get to—”
I closed the space between us, cutting him off by crushing my lips on his in a surprise attack. I would not let my last night with Gage be a knock-out fight we couldn’t come back from. Neither one of us were budging on the opposite sides we stood on. And we were friends before this, and by God, I wanted to at least have that left after what we’d done to each other.
The idea of only being his friend stung each cell in my body, but Gage quickly wrapped his arms around my hips, lifting me up to be eye level with him as he flicked his tongue against mine. Heat became an internal force inside my body, pooling between my thighs as the friction from his hard cock rubbed against me.
I tangled my fingers in his hair, memorizing this feeling—how he kissed me, opened me, consumed me. I wanted to lock every sensation in a box and take it with me, pull it out on cold nights when missing him would be inevitable.
Gage pinned me to him as he moved toward the bed, and I locked my ankles around his hips as he laid me on my back.
“Bailey?” He broke our kiss, his eyes questioning what the hell I was doing.
I shook my head and reclaimed his mouth, rubbing against him, the thin fabric of my yoga pants sliding along the hard shaft that pressed tightly against his sleep shorts. I couldn’t explain, and I knew this would hurt twenty times worse tomorrow, but I needed him. I needed one last night where we pretended the last couple weeks hadn’t happened. Where we could just go back to the once blissful relationship full of possibilities that had thrived. When he’d trusted me not to leave him and Lettie, and where I’d trusted him enough to give us a chance at a family in the future.
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Jerking his shirt over his head, I touched every piece of his carved chest and abs like the greedy, hungry woman I was. His skin was smooth and tight over the hardened muscles I’d never grow tired of, and it felt delicious as he pressed against me. He lifted my tank top, yanking it over my head with impatient fingers, a gasp on his lips when he realized I wasn’t wearing a bra.
He instantly took one of my nipples in his mouth, rolling his tongue along the tip before biting it gently. I hissed, arching up against him, my eyes closing on their own from the sheer pleasure that Gage created with every touch, every kiss.
I clenched my legs around him and pushed, fisting his hair as I forced him to flip over. He obliged, thankfully, because he was a man carved out of wood that I wouldn’t be able to budge if he didn’t want me to. But he did want me to, and that made me wet and ready for him in seconds flat. My entire entire body hummed with the need for this man.
I kissed down his chest, over the ridges of his hard-earned abs, and slipped my fingers in the band of his shorts, tugging them down and tossing them across the room. I trailed the edges of my teeth over the tight fabric of his briefs, tracing the outline of his hard cock, grinning when he growled. Unable to wait any longer, I pulled his briefs off and took him in my mouth.
God, he tasted good—all smooth, hard, and hot with a hint of salt. I teased his tip with my tongue, circling it while stroking him at the same time.
“Fuck, Bailey,” he groaned, which only made my slicker between my thighs.
I moaned with him inside my mouth, alternating between sucking and lightly grazing him with my teeth until he writhed beneath me, his hips bucking slightly. He gripped a handful of my hair, gently yanking my head upward to meet his eyes. They were on fire, and I reveled at the site, knowing I could do this to him, knowing he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.
He shifted on the bed, pulling to move above me, but I stopped him.
“Not tonight,” I said, looking down at him through hooded eyes.
I pushed him back on the bed, slowly crawling upward until my wet center hovered over the tip of his stiff shaft. I stopped there, the moment pulsing and tension-filled, and I couldn’t help but have a lapse in thought—thinking we needed to grab a condom. The sharp pain nearly yanked me out of the moment, reminding me why this started, why I needed this with him tonight—but Gage gripped my hips and I shoved every other thought away. I focused only on the sensations soaring in my blood and across my skin. The heat that Gage created, the sounds that came from his mouth, the ache in my core, all fueled the moment like a tidal wave, and I let myself be swept away.
“You want me?” I asked, gripping him and using his tip to show him how wet I was for him, sliding him along my entrance.
“You fucking know I do.” His eyes were wild with it.
“Right now?” I guided him inside of me just an inch before pulling him back out.
He hissed, his fingers digging into the skin over my hips, and I enjoyed the slight bite of pain. “Now. Later. Always.”
My heart came alive at his words, playing out a gloriously beautiful future in my mind—one with Gage, in every way I could have him—except one.
I sank down on top of him, taking his cock in one fast motion. His gasp matched mine as I slowly rode him. I rolled my hips back and forth, grinding on top of him as his hands explored my breasts.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Bailey.” Gage cupped my ass I as switched gears and rose up and down, slowly pulling him out before drawing him in again. “I love you.”
Tears bit the backs of my eyes and I slammed down on top of him harder, putting all the anger, hurt, and love I had for the man into my ride. He met me, picking up the pace as quickly as I laid it out. My match, the one person who’d continuously challenged me, kept up with me and surprised me.
My very best friend.
“Fuck me, Gage,” I said, breathless. I didn’t want him to make love to me tonight. I wanted to work out the ache that had plagued me for two weeks—both in my heart and between my thighs.
He clutched my hips and took control, forcing me down as he plunged upward, hitting my G-spot at the perfect angle. I dug my nails into his broad chest, scratching the hard muscles as he used one hand to stroke my clit, all while driving upward again and again. I rocked against his hand and sank down on each of his thrusts.
“Like this?” He asked, but it was more of a growl as he pressed his fingers against my clit with more pressure.
“Harder,” I demanded. “Gage, please.” I practically begged as he kept me on the edge of the orgasm building inside of me.
He drove upward, another strong thrust that had just enough bite in it to match the primal ache that had coiled every single one of my muscles. His fingers worked circles around my clit as he hit that perfect spot, and I screamed out his name as I came around him.
“Fuck, Bailey!” He groaned, pumping harder as I clenched around him.
“Yes. Fuck, yes,” I moaned as I felt him come inside me, his cock tightening against my walls, filling me more than seconds before as he thrust through his release. I sighed, my heart racing as I slowed down, trembling as I collapsed on top of his chest.
My skin hummed as he held me to him, stroking my spine and fingering the long strands of my hair. This was perfection.
Gage knew exactly what I needed, when I needed it, and could more than deliver. It made my heart hurt even more as I came down from the exceptional high he’d taken me to. Because I loved him this much, because we were this good together, and yet, we couldn’t make it work. We couldn’t regain that common ground we’d once had because he wouldn’t entertain my dream, as I always had his. I loved him enough to contemplate giving up ever growing a baby inside me, but he clearly didn’t love me as much if he couldn’t even think about giving me the chance. It was an impasse, one that put a wall between our hearts, despite the passion that still rocked our bodies.
After cleaning us up, he spooned me silently. Maybe he didn’t have the words, or maybe he didn’t realize that this was my goodbye—the only goodbye that made sense when it came to us.
I was on the plane before he woke up the next morning, shifting uncomfortably in the small seat, the soreness between my thighs not unpleasant but serving as a reminder of how much it hurt to leave Gage.
Glancing down, I shifted the stack of papers that Lettie had handed me after I’d made her a quick breakfast. They were stapled together.
“A picture for every day since Thanksgiving,” she’d said, not a tear shed—not from my warrior princess.
They were stunning paintings she’d done herself—some images recognizable like a butterfly, or dragon—but her abstracts were the most beautiful, the most impactful.
She already has so much of you inside her. A voice whispered in my head, taunting me with the notion that Lettie really could’ve been mine if I hadn’t left.
I sucked in a sharp breath, holding the hand-made book to my chest. I’d told her I’d be back, that I loved her, that she was the most amazing little girl I’d ever met. And she knew it. The love I had for her wasn’t a question in her mind, which made my leaving different from Helen’s. And I kept reminding myself of that every single time my stomach lurched at the thought of Lettie waking up to a new nanny.
“Something to drink, Miss?” A sweet flight attendant pulled me out of my twisting thoughts.
“Alcohol. I don’t care what. Just keep the drinks coming, please.” I leaned my head back as she nodded and handed me a tiny glass of red wine. I sipped it, enjoying the warmth as it slid down my throat.
Looking out the window, an endless blue sky stretching out before me, I wondered what this new life would be like and how it would hold a candle to the few blissful months I’d had where Gage was mine, and the dream of family had been close enough to touch.
Chapter 17
Gage
She’d left.
The one woman I thought would stay.
She hadn’t even
bothered to say goodbye, hadn’t given me fair warning or a chance to find some kind of compromise.
I wanted it to hurt, to feel some kind of pain, agony, or even anger, but instead I was numb. The last week had gone by in a kind of hazy blur. I put Lettie on the waiting list for preschool next year, somehow made it to the doc for a checkup and then practice, but everything else felt hazy. Surreal.
“Gage!” Mom snapped, and I looked up from where I’d been staring at Lettie on her Fortress, my hands wrapped around a coffee mug.
“What?” I asked.
She sighed. “This applicant is fluent in Norwegian, and has great references,” she shuffled the papers on the patio table. “She also has lovely legs,” she mumbled.
“Nope,” I answered automatically. “Find me someone over sixty. Bad legs.” There was zero chance I was ever going to fall for the nanny again.
She scoffed. “Honestly. I know you’re upset about Bailey leaving, but really…”
“Really what? I love her, Mom. I love her and she walked out. I’m not upset. I’m about four steps beyond that.”
She reached across the table to lightly hold my wrist. “I know, and I’m so sorry. You two just had such different views of your future.”
“She didn’t even give it a shot. I get it, she couldn’t turn down Paris. I don’t blame her. I couldn’t walk away from the NHL…” I looked over to where Lettie was climbing. She reached the top of her fortress and then waved after blowing me a kiss. I caught it and threw it back.
Maybe this was enough. Maybe I didn’t need hockey. How badly could I need it if I knew I would throw it all away to keep her safe...or to have Bailey back in my arms. Was there anything I wouldn’t do to have her back?
“I’ll say one thing on the subject and not one more,” Mom said.
I met her somber expression but didn’t speak.
“If you’re set against having more children because you legitimately don’t want more—”
“Mom,” I groaned, my head smacking back against the chair.
Grinder (Seattle Sharks Book 1) Page 16
