But suddenly Owen wasn’t so certain. He stroked a thumb back and forth across her cheek. “You sure?”
She let out a shuddering breath and nodded. “Hold me.” She bent to kiss him, shifting the angle of their bodies so they were mouth to mouth, chest to chest.
Owen wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close, holding her tight as they rocked, finding a new, quieter rhythm. One that didn’t lead to long moans of pleasure or demands for more, but left an indelible mark. Something deeper and more precious, as though they were connected everywhere.
He felt a knock in his chest as though it was breaking wide-open, insisting she come in and never leave. He blinked the thought away. She was already here, already there.
Grace lifted her face to look at him, her eyes dark with desire and something else. “I just want it to be us tonight. Nothing between us.”
“There is nothing between us.” Owen slid his hands up her back to tangle in her hair and kissed her. She softened against him, her body opening to him, allowing him deeper. With every stroke, Owen sensed he was reaching a new, more intense spot.
And he never wanted to stop.
* * *
WHEN OWEN WOKE UP, Grace was no longer in the bed with him. A sad state of affairs made doubly so because she wasn’t in the shower, either.
Owen pulled on his boxers and padded down the hall. “Grace?”
There was no answer. He found Grace sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen dressed in her workout gear, hair scraped back into a tight ponytail. A cup of coffee sat on the counter in front of her, but it didn’t look as though she was drinking it.
Owen slid his arms around her and leaned into the curve of her neck, inhaling. “Good morning.”
But she didn’t lean back into him or turn her head to give him a kiss.
Owen moved around the counter. “Everything okay?”
She smiled at him, but it was as tight as her hair. “We need to talk.”
“Sure.” He pulled a mug out of the cupboard, a wide-mouthed one in navy blue that he thought of as his, and filled it up. “What are we talking about?”
“I can’t see you anymore.”
He stilled. Everything except his fingers, which gripped the handle of his mug more tightly. “What?”
Grace didn’t look away, but met his gaze head-on. “I can’t see you anymore.”
This again? He carefully put the mug on the counter and reached out to stroke her hand. “Grace. This is exactly when you can see me. Remember the wedding? It’s over, so we don’t have to worry about being seen together anymore.”
But she didn’t smile or turn her hand into his. Her blue eyes were serious. “This wasn’t a decision I made lightly.”
It wasn’t until she shifted her stool back, putting distance as well as counter space between them, that Owen realized just how serious Grace was. He swallowed and pushed his cup away, nauseated by the thought of adding liquid to his suddenly roiling belly. “And just what is this decision?”
“It’s over.”
He blinked as though that might clear things up. What was she talking about? “It didn’t seem over last night.”
Or had she already forgotten about that? About that slow, sensitive bout of sex that had been hotter and harder than anything he’d ever experienced in his life?
Because he sure as hell hadn’t forgotten.
“Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
Hell, yes, he was going to make this harder. Owen widened his stance and placed his hands on the counter. “I want to know why. You owe me that.” It was hard to keep his voice steady.
“We both knew this had an end date.” Grace did look away then, her hands wrapped around each other in her lap.
“No, we didn’t. Look at me.” He kept his voice soft—or as soft as he could manage when it felt as if he’d sucked down a truckload of gravel. “Talk to me.”
He saw the bob of her throat and the way she bit her lip. “We have different life plans, Owen.”
“How can you know that when we haven’t talked about them?” He leaned forward. “Tell me. Tell me what you want out of life.”
“I want to get married.” She looked up at him. “Maybe have some kids, get a dog.”
Owen regretted his flinch even before he saw her reaction. He schooled his features into a neutral expression. “Okay.” Okay. That was fine. That was perfectly normal, something most adults did. But he felt a nervous flutter around his heart.
“Do you?” She met his gaze.
Owen swallowed. His throat felt tight. So did his chest. Was he having a heart attack? Was he about to have a stroke and collapse right here on her floor? He gripped the edges of the counter more tightly. “Grace.”
“I know what I want, Owen. I don’t want to waste my time.”
That stung. It felt very close to the way Donovan still sometimes treated him. “I don’t think I’m a waste of time.”
Her expression softened and for a moment Owen thought she was going to move toward him, to agree that there was no reason to make a rash decision first thing this morning. Instead, she sat up straighter and raised her chin. “You aren’t, but I don’t see the point of continuing if we don’t have the same goal.”
He studied her. There was uncertainty in her eyes and the press of her lips. “And that goal is marriage and kids.”
Grace nodded. “And a dog.”
“Maybe we should start there.”
Her eyebrows slanted together. “With a dog?”
“I’m just thinking that we haven’t been together that long. Only a few months. You haven’t even been properly introduced to my family. Why don’t we see how things go and then we can get a dog.” It seemed reasonable to him, but Grace merely stiffened.
“That’s just it, Owen. We don’t need to see how things go. We’ve been seeing how they go for a few months.”
“What? When you refused to be seen in public with me? When you hid me away like some shameful secret?”
“We agreed.”
“No, Grace. You agreed and I went along with it because I liked you.”
She nodded slowly and for a moment, Owen felt his panic recede, the blurring around the edges of his vision clear.
“Then tell me, Owen. Do you want to get married?”
He should have expected it, should have known she’d go back to that one. Instead, he flinched again. He tried to cover it with a cough. “Sure, I mean, at some point, one day...”
Grace’s entire body seemed to droop. “That’s what I thought.” Her voice was a whisper.
“Let me explain.” But he didn’t know how. “I’m still figuring out my career and other things.” Good one. Other things. Yeah, that was sure to win her over.
“I want to believe you.” She looked at him, but there was no softness there now. Just hard, firm resolve. “But how can I when you can’t even say the words?”
She paused and Owen knew this was his last chance, the moment where he could step into the void and fill it with the words she wanted to hear, could infuse his voice with the sincerity he needed to show. He stayed silent.
“I think it’s best if you go.”
He found his voice then. “I’m not even dressed.” But she didn’t respond to his comment or his naked chest. “And then what, Grace?” Panic and something else, something hotter and harder, rose in his chest. “And then I go? You’re just kicking me out the door and out of your life forever?”
“We never had forever, Owen. You’ve made that clear.”
But he didn’t agree. He’d never meant that. “This is crazy. Just because I’m not ready to run to the altar this second, I’m out?” He felt his skin growing warm, thought it might sizzle if someone were to throw cold water on it. Marriage was a b
ig step. One he needed to get used to. He couldn’t just jump in without looking. “All I’m asking for is a little time. Time for us both to make sure.”
Grace stared at him, lines bracketing her mouth. Then slowly she shook her head and for a second, Owen thought everything was going to be okay. That she’d see the insanity of her demands and would agree they could go on seeing each other and then, who knew? “But that’s just it, Owen. I don’t need any more time and, if you’re honest, neither do you. Do you see yourself married to me?”
That damnable flinch rocked his face again. Christ. Owen scrubbed a hand over it, but it was too late.
“That’s what I thought.” But she looked sad instead of angry. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Owen. But I do want to get married and I won’t stay with someone who doesn’t.”
Grace might not have been angry, but suddenly he was plenty mad for both of them. Just where did she get off deciding what he wanted and how he should live his life? Didn’t he get enough of that from his brother? “Well, since you’ve got it all wrapped up in a neat little bow, I guess that’s it. It doesn’t matter what I might say or think because you’ve got it all figured out for both of us. Congratulations.”
“Owen.”
“Why is this suddenly so important?” He shook his head. It didn’t matter, since her answer wouldn’t change the outcome. She was breaking up with him. “For God’s sake, Grace. You won’t spend time with my family. You won’t even go out in public with me. But I’m expected to just drop onto one knee and claim everlasting love?” His heart pounded with it. “Pardon me if I’m having a little trouble accepting that.”
“That isn’t what I said. I just want to know that we want the same things.”
“Like meeting family? Going out for dinner? Kissing in public?” Because he wanted those things. They were steps on the way to something larger, something longer.
“Of course, I want those things, too.”
“But you aren’t willing to wait. You’ve made up your mind that marriage has to happen now and not later.”
“I didn’t say that.”
But she had. She’d said she wouldn’t wait for him. As if he wasn’t good enough to wait for. As if he wasn’t good enough for her. And an ugly insidious thought hit him. Had she really been concerned about her reputation or had she just wanted to keep him a secret? “Would you even marry me if I asked?”
Her face went blank and his heart sank. “As you aren’t asking, I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“It’s relevant to me.” But she didn’t answer. And a red, rich anger rose up in him. He was good enough to sleep with, good enough to play with, but not good enough to make a life with. “You’re right.” He lashed out now, wanting to hurt as much as he was hurting. “I don’t want to get married. Not yet. But that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”
He was breathing hard now, like a freight train barreling ahead, and he wasn’t going to stop until he’d blown off all his steam.
“I’ll go now.” He’d said enough, letting out those little worries that he worked so hard to keep buried. Fear that he wasn’t good enough, smart enough, worthy enough. Fears that had kept him from taking anything too seriously for most of his life. Maybe he’d had the right of it then. Less painful. He scowled. “Don’t bother to see me out.”
He put on his tux from last night, jamming his feet into the shoes so hard they hurt. Stupid dress shoes that pinched his toes. And yet, he hoped she’d follow him into the room, insist they talk this out so that he could help her understand that things didn’t have to end this way.
She didn’t.
He left the bedroom, his bow tie clutched in one hand and her keys in the other. She was sitting at the counter again, her chin in her hands, her eyes tilted downward. But he didn’t care, wouldn’t care. She didn’t want him in her life? Fine. He was gone.
“Here.” He tossed the keys onto the kitchen counter. They made a loud jangle in the quiet of the room. “I won’t bother you again.”
“Owen.”
“Just drop mine in the mail or by the bar sometime.” There was no question of her using it, sneaking into his apartment, all soft and warm and wrapping herself around him, telling him that she’d been wrong, all wrong. Not when she’d never used it when they’d actually been together. And he couldn’t stand the idea of sticking around while she dug them out of whatever drawer she had them tucked neatly away in. Because they wouldn’t be in her purse, where they should have been if she’d been in the habit of actually visiting him. “Goodbye, Grace.”
He wasn’t sure if she responded because his ears were ringing too loudly to hear anything, even before he closed the front door behind him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GRACE DIDN’T MOVE when she heard the door close. Or when her phone rang. Not even when her back, still stiff from working last night, began to ache from sitting on the stool with no support. She felt frozen inside and out.
Owen was gone. Just like that. And though she knew it was the right thing to do—his instinctive reaction every time she even mentioned marriage made that painfully clear—she couldn’t help feeling sick inside. Guilty, too, as though she’d done something wrong. Which was so unfair. She was sorry that he was hurting, but that didn’t mean she had to give up everything she wanted. All her plans, her dreams for the future.
She didn’t have to go into work today. Winter was slow for weddings and January was virtually dead. She had a Valentine’s weekend wedding—there were always couples that opted for the day associated with roses and romance—but everything had been in place for weeks and the bride and groom were low-key.
She’d already given her staff the next two weeks off. They’d all worked really hard through the holiday season leading up to the wedding yesterday. Grace hadn’t personally minded the heavy load. Despite the fact that Owen kept late hours and often woke her up when he got home, she’d felt energized. Even the grim weather and limited daylight hadn’t bothered her.
Of course, that was before.
Grace felt her fingers curl into angry knots. She should be relieved. Clearly, she’d read all of Owen’s intentions exactly right. Casual, see where things go, no strings. But that didn’t make the ache in her chest any less painful.
She pushed herself off the stool and stalked into the kitchen to dump her coffee. She wasn’t wrong to want more, to insist on it. And as she respected his decision, he should show her the same courtesy.
If he hadn’t wanted more, then he never should have gotten involved with a wedding planner. What did he expect? That she didn’t believe in long-term commitment? That she’d be satisfied with the scraps of a relationship? And sure, he’d claimed that he wanted to take next steps, but to what end? Clearly, he had no plan in mind, no ultimate goal, which was as good as not bothering in her world.
Really, this was all for the best. It would allow her to focus on her goals, to reestablish her plan and complete it on time. And if her heart was a little worse for the wear, it was only a good reminder that doing things off schedule was not for her.
She closed her eyes and saw the next two weeks stretch out in front of her. She hadn’t filled them, hadn’t planned events and scheduled appointments on a single day. Probably her subconscious still hoping that Owen might come through. And now she had nothing to do. All the air squeezed out of her lungs as she gazed around her apartment, so happy and bright and filled with holiday cheer.
She couldn’t look at the decorations, waving at her, so unaware of her inner pain. Annoying little things.
Well, she’d take care of them now. No need to let the lights and ornaments and everything else linger. She’d stow everything away, then vacuum and dust, and get her apartment back to its normal appearance. Then she’d sit down at her computer and look at her five-year plan. It was time to implem
ent the next step. Whatever that might be.
The fact that she didn’t already know the next step, didn’t have it residing in the back of her mind just waiting to be called into action, was proof of how badly Owen had messed with her schedule. Usually, she did a monthly check-in, to see where she was and determine that she was on her way to achieving her goals or if there were any superstar goals she could aim for if she’d already succeeded in reaching her base-level ones.
Grace nodded to herself. Yes, she’d bury herself in cleanup and then refocus her mind where it should be. Which was not on Owen Ford. But when she walked into the living room and saw the two reindeer going at it on her mantel, her good intentions fell away.
As he always did, Owen had left his mark. In her living room. With the ornaments on her tree. On her life. Grace scrubbed a hand across her face. She’d already missed her morning Pilates class, she’d missed her annual Christmas cleanup and she didn’t even know what her January goals were. Suddenly, she didn’t care.
The ache she’d been trying to pretend she didn’t feel, the pain that hovered inside her chest, rearing its head with every heartbeat, flared to life. She stared at the reindeers and started to cry.
* * *
OWEN WENT STRAIGHT TO Elephants from Grace’s. He didn’t have anywhere else to go, which was a sad state of affairs when he thought about it. Travis, his closest friend, lived in Aruba, he no longer was in contact with the social-page crowd and aside from Grace, who had just officially punted him out of her life, the only other people he saw regularly were his family.
“Owen.” Stef greeted him with a warm smile and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “Nice tux. I thought you were off today.”
“I am.” He grabbed the water offered by Stef, but didn’t open it. Probably should have gone home to change first, but the idea of being completely isolated, even for one more second, had been too much to handle on top of everything else. So here he was, tux on, bow tie stuffed in his pocket and his dress shoes pinching his feet.
The bar was doing brisk Saturday brunch business. No doubt half the clientele were still hungover from New Year’s Eve celebrations two days ago. Two days ago he’d rung in the New Year in Grace’s bed. Where they’d laughed and teased. He’d thought they had a future. Not necessarily marriage—he felt himself flinch at the thought and squeezed the bottle of water so hard, he was surprised the cap didn’t pop off.
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