by Timms, Lexy
The sheer force of my orgasm hurt.
But the only face in my mind was hers.
That beautiful smile and those innocent eyes.
I slept soundly that night, but not for lack of dreaming about her. She ran rampant in my mind, but it wasn’t just sex. I saw us holding hands and walking around town. I saw us at my vineyard as I plucked a grape from the vine and fed it to her. I saw my arms wrapped around her as we stood on my private balcony, overlooking the decadent expanse of Napa Valley.
My eyes opened and I smelled waffles before the scent of coffee hit my nose.
“We’re going to have to pick up the pace today if we’re going to finish in time,” I said. “We need to start delivering today.”
“Which was why I wanted to finish last night. So I did.”
“What?” I asked.
“I stayed up and mapped out the best way for us to take these routes.”
She slid the map towards me and I looked at the final decision she’d made.
“You stayed up?” I asked.
“I did. Now eat, because we have to get on the road.”
“This is efficient,” I said.
“It’s not so much about delivering in a specific order as it is getting the flow of town. Stillsville is separated into four parts, if you look at it closely. Two outer rings and two inner rings. If we take each ring clockwise from the house, we’ll end up back where we need to be to load up without having to go out of our way in order to get back.”
My eyebrows shot up my forehead as I looked over at her. She leaned against the kitchen table with her coffee to her lips, but I knew the grin she was hiding.
I was impressed with her work.
“Then let’s finish breakfast and start loading up,” I said. “I’m paying you overtime for those hours, by the way.”
“What!? No you’re—”
“Sh!” I said.
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t fight me again. I picked up my waffle and ate it as I chugged some coffee down, then the two of us got to work. We loaded up my rental car with the possessions for the first round of deliveries, then we started out. And the pattern was the same. Michelle drove to each house and stopped at the curb, then I pulled out the possession for the person that lived there. I walked up to their door, knocked on it, and then delivered the speech I’d rehearsed in my mind.
“Anton Volk cared for you greatly. He cared for this town greatly. And as a last gift to you, he wanted you to have this.”
Their reactions were strange, but almost all of them were the same. Tears would fill their eyes and they’d bring me in for a hug, like I was the one to be thanked. Some of them were shocked to see me standing on their doorsteps and tried to strike up a conversation with me, but I kept everything short and sweet. We had a day full of deliveries and something told me more people would be hugging my neck before it was all said and done.
“Thank you so much, Grayson.”
“He would’ve been proud of the man you turned into.”
“Oh, I haven’t seen you since you were just a teenager.”
“What are you up to these days?”
“I’m so sorry for your loss. I know he meant a lot to you.”
So many sentiments that punched me in the chest. So many things I wanted to say to so many people. But it wasn’t about me. Not this trip. It was about Anton and how an entire community had been affected by his generosity. And the more doors I knocked on, the more I understood the love everyone had for him in this town. It was strange, listening to stories of him I didn’t even know. And it seemed everybody had a story. A small anecdote to share with me that brought a smile to their face and filled their hearts with grief.
“I’m going to miss that man.”
“He always had a sucker for Bobby.”
“Beautiful. That was how he made me feel.”
“Are you okay?” Michelle asked.
She pulled into the driveway as we prepared to load up the last of the items.
“I’m okay. It’s just—strange.”
“What is?” she asked.
“Knowing that all these people cared for Anton the way I did. I didn’t even know he knew them. They never came around when I was here.”
“Maybe they didn’t have to. Maybe he went to them,” she said.
“Maybe. They all have stories, you know? Stories that make him happy, just like he made me happy.”
“Are you worried that it somehow diminishes the relationship you had with him?”
I stopped inside the house as her question blanketed my mind. In an odd way, yes. I thought I’d been special to him. Taken in by a quiet man who didn’t have anyone. I had thought we were kindred spirits like that. He didn’t have anyone, I didn’t have anyone. So we didn’t have anyone together. But seeing how he impacted the community—how he impacted Michelle—almost made me wonder if I was ever special to him at all.
Or, if I was just another project.
“Look at me, Gray.”
My gaze fell to hers and I lost myself in her emerald eyes.
“Many people have memories of Anton. I have memories of him. And many people loved him. He was obviously a major cog within this community. But there was only one person he trusted to settle his estate. He only had one godson, Gray.”
Her words were comforting. Delightful, even.
I was beginning to see why Anton had taken her in.
The last route we drove, Michelle took a more active role. She got out with me at every stop and helped me through the last of the deliveries. She hugged people’s necks and brought smiles to their sad faces. She dried their tears with her fingers and kissed their foreheads, comforting them in their own time of grief. I saw a genuine outpouring of affection from her. An affection I’m sure she bestowed upon Anton many times.
Oh yes. I could definitely see why Anton was quick to let her in.
Michelle was beautiful and smart. Efficient in her work. She’d obviously been dealt a rough hand, otherwise Anton wouldn’t have let her stay with him on various occasions. And with every person we came into contact with, I watched her sympathize with their pain. I watched an empathy flow from her that not many people in this world had. But those people who did possess that trait all had one thing in common.
The hand they’d been dealt in life had been rough.
I wondered what her hand consisted of.
We drove back to the house in silence after the deliveries were complete. I took the wheel this time and Michelle sat there, staring out the window. All at once, the women I’d known in my life flooded my mind. The women who came onto me when I was playing in the NFL. How they tried to seduce me and hook me with the temptation of their bodies. I thought about how those women quickly disappeared after my injury, when I was fighting through my concussion. All of them said they cared, until I couldn’t whip out my wallet and pay for their dinners. Until I couldn’t fuck them stupid in their own beds. Until I couldn’t get up out of a bed to purchase them diamonds, rubies and golden rings.
I studied the lines of Michelle’s body. She was exactly the type of woman I’d pounce on. Thick. Curvy. A nice smile and plump lips. A thick head of hair to hang onto while I tore up her body, and curves that jiggled for my viewing pleasure.
Another wave of women came blasting to the forefront of my mind. The kind of women that flocked to me after my success at the vineyard.
They were of a higher caliber. Came from richer families. But they were still the same. Still gold-digging women. In their world, their merit was based on the physical pleasure they could bring a man, and my merit was based on the amount of money I could spend on any one given date with them. If I didn’t take them on my private jet to Italy for a special pasta dish for our first date, I wasn’t worth the time or the energy. I wasn’t worth the time they spent in the gym toning their bodies, and I wasn’t worth the hundreds of thousands spent on plastic surgery they pumped themselves with to look a certain way.
I pul
led into the driveway and turned the car off, continuing to run my eyes along her form.
She didn’t have the fake nails or the layers of makeup. She didn’t have the dyed hair or the expensive jewelry. She didn’t give a shit about fashion and, based on our early interactions, she had no idea who I even was. It was rare for me to run into someone that didn’t know who I was. Mostly people recognized me from the NFL, but the more my vineyard took off and the more delicate my brand became, the more people recognized me from talk shows and interviews in Forbes and popular wine magazines.
Michelle didn’t seem like those women at all.
Just a small-town girl who was down on her luck and looking for someone to give her a break.
She wasn’t trying to siphon me for my money. If anything, she kept bucking against it. Something I wasn’t at all familiar with. She didn’t want it. At least, she made it seem that way. She didn’t strike me as the kind of girl that wanted a man to bankroll a life of luxurious laziness. She wasn’t part of the ‘Ladies Who Lunch’ crowd. In fact, she struck me as the type who mocked or scoffed at women like that.”
“Ready to go in?”
Her voice ripped through my mind as my hand opened the car door.
“Yep,” I said. “It’s been a long day. I’m ready for some food.”
“Sounds like a good idea. We didn’t stop to eat lunch.”
None of it mattered. As I unlocked Anton’s front door and let us both in, I realized none of it mattered. How different or mysterious she was. Or what we had in common and what we did not. I was scheduled for a flight out tomorrow night, which meant this town would be left behind. I would be using my morning to drive around the county to inform the tenants of his properties that their land was theirs, free of charge, then I’d head back to O’Hare and get the fuck out of Illinois.
But I wondered what Michelle would do once I was gone.
I wondered where she would go and what life had in store for her next.
Chapter 16
Michelle
The hours of the day slipped by so quickly, and I tried to cling to every second. I knew Gray was set to leave tomorrow night, and once he left my life would be a lot less exciting. A lot more lonesome. Part of me wished he would stay. Not so I could have a roof over my head, but so I could have the company. I enjoyed his presence. His essence. His smiles and his laughter. I enjoyed our playful banter and the rising tension between us. I’d never known excitement like the kind he brought into my life. It was a domesticated type of excitement. The kind someone got by sitting next to an old friend.
It felt like I’d known Grayson a lot longer than I actually had.
He didn’t have to stay forever. Just a few more days. A few more moments with him and his smile. Him and his eyes. Him and his soft touches. Or maybe he could stay a few more weeks.
Or a few more months.
You know, just enough time to say goodbye properly.
But I didn’t want to say goodbye. I didn’t want to wave him off. I didn’t want to pack up my duffel bag and sleep in one of the stale extended-stay motels in the middle of town. I was fooled, though. Gray hated this place. I saw it in his eyes whenever he walked outside. I didn’t know why he had such a hatred towards this town, but if it was anything like the reason I had for hating my hometown, I understood. I understood why he didn’t want to stay. Why coming back held so many painful memories for him.
He’d had one foot out the door the entire time he’d been here. I had tomorrow with him, and that was it.
So I needed to make the best of it.
“Need help cooking dinner?” I asked.
“Nope. I’ve got this. You sit down and take a load off.”
“You’re the one who did all the delivering,” I said. “I just drove.”
“But you’re the one who wiped away all those tears today.”
“On the last round, sure. But not all of them. Come on, what do you need help with?”
“I’ve got this, Michelle. I promise. It’ll be quick. Just a basic chicken with vegetables. Go wash up or something.”
“You saying I stink?”
He grinned over at me and it filled my stomach with butterflies.
“Uh oh,” he said.
“What?” I asked “What’s wrong?”
“Does this look familiar to you?”
He held up a piece of paper and I squinted my eyes. I walked into the kitchen and took it from him, my eyes flickering over the list.
Shit.
We’d forgotten one of the lists.
“I’ll go get the town map,” I said.
“I’ll put this on hold and go get the highlighter,” Gray said.
“Wait a second. What’s this? Holy shit.”
“What?” he asked.
“It says on this list from the will that Anton has a first edition of War & Peace in here somewhere.”
“Let me see that.”
He took the list from my hands and began to read it. His lips moved with every word and I found myself entranced by their movements. His brow furrowed deeper as the paper dropped from his vision, and I forced my eyes up to his so he wouldn’t catch me staring.
“The only place I can think of that we haven’t dug through yet is the attic,” he said.
“There’s an attic to this place? I only knew there was a basement.”
“Come on. We need to go find this stuff,” he said.
I followed Gray as he maneuvered through the house. I walked down hallways I’d never had occasion to be in before. Most of the work I did for Anton was outside labor. Every once in a while I’d come inside and dust down, but the house didn’t need much more than that. A little sweeping. Some mopping. Washing the windows from time to time.
I saw the string hanging from the ceiling as Gray reached for it.
The attic door creaked and a staircase unfolded. Great. A hot, stuffy attic in ninety-degree heat just as the sun was beginning to set. This would be a fun little scavenger hunt on an empty stomach. And mine was beginning to growl. I hoped and prayed the man in front of me scaling the built-in stairs couldn’t hear it.
How embarrassing would that have been?
The humidity in the attic was stifling. It was hard to breathe. Hard to see. A small light flickered on but didn’t lend much to the room. And the boxes that surrounded us were written on in Russian. Compared to the expanse of the property, the attic was small. It didn’t branch out any farther than the hallway and it was hard for Gray and I to maneuver around one another. Dust flew everywhere and sweat was already trickling down my back. Worse yet, the sweat that glistened against Gray’s skin made my cheeks tint with heat.
It was hard enough keeping my hands off of him. Why the hell did I have to be stuck in a stuffy, small, sweaty attic with him?
“I don’t read Russian, so all we can do it open the boxes and dig through them,” he said.
“You’ve got the list?” I asked.
“In my back pocket, yep. Let’s find the book first, then we’ll go on down the line. Maybe if we dig, it’ll be easier to come back across things.”
“Fine by me.”
Anything to get me out of that attic sooner.
Slowly, we started to find the missing pieces. Sweat dripped off the tip of my nose and my clothes began to cling to my skin. Gray walked past me, his leg brushing my back. He opened up the small window at the other end of the attic to try and get some air flowing, but it wasn’t much use. The air outside wasn’t much cooler than the air in the attic. Especially since hot air rose. We popped open boxes and sneezed with the dust, and soon we were finding the rest of the gifts stuffed at the bottom of all of those boxes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Grayson freeze. I looked over at him and watched him finger what looked like a photo album. He opened the cover and peeked inside, then quickly shut its contents.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Just some pictures.”
“What are they of?”
“We can talk about it later. We’ve got too much to do before I head out tomorrow.”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep myself from reacting. I couldn’t show him how disappointed that statement made me. He sounded a little too happy about it. To be leaving this town. To be leaving me.
Turning back to my task, I continued digging through the box as I panted for air.
I got up and walked over to the window, feeling stifled by the confines of the attic. I closed my eyes as the open window caught a breeze. My skin cooled. My forehead stopped sweating. My legs felt their strength returning.
But then I felt something dab against my forehead and my eyes whipped open.
“Just me,” Gray said.
He slid the soft, silken handkerchief against my skin and I closed my eyes. I smelled Gray’s sweat. I felt his body heat pounding against me. My cheeks flushed at the intimacy of it all. His hand smoothing the material over my skin. Trying to help me cool off and catch my breath. My pulse quickened. My stomach curled in on itself. It became hard to breathe again. Hard to think straight. He smoothed the handkerchief down my cheek and slid it underneath my chin.
Then he crooked his finger and gazed into my eyes.
Our lips were inches apart. His hand was trembling against the underside of my chin. He was about to leave and I’d never see him again. Never hear his voice or see his face or feel his presence or bask in his warmth. And once—just once—I wanted to feel him. One last time, I wanted to feel his body against mine.
So I closed the space between us.
My lips pressed into his and his hand fell from my chin. I closed my eyes, my mind swirling as I committed every little detail to memory. His lips tensing. His body teetering. His fists clenching and the handkerchief landing on my foot. His hands sliding up my thighs and grabbing my hips. His face pressing against—
His tongue slid across my mouth and I instantly allowed him access.
