Return to Us

by Corinne Michaels

  Jessica shrugs. “Or you will, we’ll have to see.”

  We get in the car, smiling at each other as I start to plan my version of payback. She’ll pay, but probably not in the way she’s thinking. Or maybe it is exactly what she’s thinking.

  I focus on not letting my mind get too far into that or it will be a very uncomfortable drive. The next few hours pass much the same as the first one did. Amelia finding topics to discuss while I wish I brought ear plugs.

  I love my kid. I love her more than anything, but she hasn’t stopped.

  “Why don’t we be quiet for a few minutes,” I suggest when we’re only about twenty minutes from the beach house. Surely, she can last that long.

  Jessica grins and then turns back to Amelia.

  “Do you know how to play the quiet game?” Jess asks her.

  “No, what are the rules?”

  “They’re simple, we all have to be very quiet, not make any noise, and the person who is quiet the longest, wins.”

  Amelia tilts her head to the side, staring at Jess. “What do I win?”

  I glance at her through the rearview mirror. “What do you want? I’ll pay anything.”

  I realize immediately that this was a bad strategy, but I’m desperate for even five seconds of peace. “I want a monkey.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “You said anything,” Amelia counters.

  “Yes, anything but that.”

  “Okay, then I want a baby elephant.”

  Jessica giggles. “Where would you put it?”

  “The living room,” Amelia answers as though it’s perfectly reasonable.

  “But what about when it grows?” Jess continues this line of conversation.

  “Then it can go in Daddy’s room, it’s big.”

  Here I thought I might get a few minutes of quiet, not a debate over livestock and exotic animals.

  “I think the elephant might be happier in the wild, don’t you?” Jessica reasons with her.

  “Fine. Okay, then I want a puppy. We can have a puppy because they’re small and they’re cute and Bryson Hewitt has one and he named it Dog.”

  “He named the dog, Dog?” I ask.

  “He’s not very smart, Daddy.”

  Jessica laughs and covers it with a cough. “Dog is a good name.”

  “Dog is a stupid name!” I protest. “It’s a dog, you don’t name it Dog.”

  She shrugs and then looks out the window, her shoulders bouncing.

  Amelia raises her hand as though we’re in class.

  “Yes?”

  “I know what we should name our puppy.”

  “We’re not getting a puppy,” I say sternly because we’ve rehashed this particular conversation at least once a month. Between my job and the fire department, getting a dog would be impossible. We’re hardly ever home, and I can barely take care of Amelia and myself, let alone an animal.

  “If we did,” Amelia cuts in, “I would call him Bryson.”

  “What?”

  “If he can name the dog, Dog, then I will name my dog Bryson. That way the dog doesn’t feel sad.”

  Jessica and I both burst out laughing. Amelia preens in her seat, seemingly happy with her logic.

  “You better get her a dog now,” Jess says between her fits of giggling.

  I shake my head and smile. “You can have anything that isn’t an animal.”

  Amelia groans, her head falling to the side dramatically. Not that it matters anyway since I’m pulling in the driveway.

  “Fine, then I want a new mommy.”

  And with that, the laughter fades, and the car falls silent.

  Chapter 25

  Jessica

  Grayson and I look at each other, the awkwardness growing with each second.

  I have the strangest urge to weep. As though, her answer is too profound to explain. I love this man and I love her too. In just a short period of time, Amelia has become so dear to me, and it’s unfathomable how anyone wouldn’t want to be her mother. How any woman could turn away from her is beyond me, and then I realize, that’s exactly what I would do if I left.

  I’d walk away from them both. I’d give up this . . . this wonderful little life that I could have. How has just a few months of being back home altered everything inside me? How did spending that one night in his arms make this big of a difference?

  So much so that even thinking about him with another woman makes me want to cry. The mere thought of someone else helping her into her car seat has my heart wanting to rip from my chest.

  I need to get a grip.

  We both said go slow and here I am, imagining becoming a family.

  Grayson’s eyes never leave mine, and I can see the hesitation. Neither of us knows what to say, and then he turns to her. “I don’t know that you can get that from a game, but how about we go inside and you can help me with the sheets?”

  Amelia claps her hands and reaches over to unbuckle herself. “Okay! And then can we build a sand town? And then go swimming? Can we have pizza for dinner?”

  Oh, to be four years old and have the attention span of a goldfish.

  He hops out of the car, and I follow, grabbing bags and the coolers we packed with food. Amelia rushes toward the front of the house, giving us the first bit of privacy.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah, of course, why?” I ask with a squeak.

  “Because Amelia just shocked the shit out of both of us.”

  I relax and force a smile on my face. “She’s four, and I can’t imagine she doesn’t long for a mother.”

  Grayson looks away. “I hate that I can’t give her that. Of all the things I can provide, I can’t make her own mother want her.”

  The pain in his voice makes me ache. I would do anything to take it away for him. “Gray, you give her everything.”

  “Do I?”

  “She is the happiest kid I’ve ever met. She adores you. You’ve given her a lake . . . I mean, seriously, there’s nothing that you have to feel bad about.”

  He nods once, which I can tell he doesn’t really mean, but I’m not going to press it. “Let’s get the house ready and get lunch.”

  “Okay.”

  We work as a team, Melia bouncing between us as we work to uncover furniture and get the air working. It’s not overly hot, but with the windows closed up the last two months, there’s a slight stagnant smell.

  Wow. It’s been only two months since we kissed. Two months of feelings and love and fear of what all of it means.

  I stand in the bedroom, my fingers just brushing against the comforter as I walk to the sliding glass door that looks out at the ocean. When I move the heavy curtains to the side, the light filters in, showing tiny flecks of dust in the air. All of it orbiting around me, small pieces, but once the dust settles, what then?

  Will it get swept away and forgotten or become a piece of something greater?

  I feel Grayson’s presence before I hear him. Then his hands settle on my shoulders.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m in love with you,” I say, not turning to him.

  “And that’s a problem?” There’s a slight laughter in his voice.

  Fragments of me are his. Parts that I will never get back, and I worry what it all means. “I don’t want to leave you, Grayson.”

  He wraps his arms around my middle, holding me against his strong chest. “Then don’t,” he says. “Stay.”

  I tilt my head back and sink into his embrace. “Okay.”

  Because right now, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with him and Amelia.

  “I want to tell her about us,” Grayson says while we’re cuddled up in my bed. Amelia went to sleep about three hours ago, and Grayson will soon leave to sleep alone in his twin-sized bunk bed.

  “Tell who?”

  “Amelia.”

  I sit up straight. “Tell her what?”

  “That we’re dating. It’ll make it a lot easier for us to be aro
und each other.”

  I chew on my lower lip, not sure how I feel about this. Not that I don’t want her to know, but after what she said earlier, she might assume certain things.

  “It might not go as well as you hope.”

  “She adores you, Jess.”

  “Yes, as her daddy’s old friend. It’s different if she thinks I’m something more.”

  He tugs my arm, pulling me so I’m lying on top of him. “We don’t have to do it now.”

  “I just, I want us to be sure when we tell her. Amelia is sweet and special, I’d like for her to be happy when we break it to her.”

  Grayson’s fingers slide through my hair, pushing it back behind my ears. “How about we give it a week or two? Let’s get through this trip and then back home so she can see us together.”

  I give him a quick kiss. “I think that’s a good plan.”

  The pads of my fingers play with the skin at the hollow of his neck. “You know, I have plans too.”

  “You do?”

  I nod. “I do. For you.”

  “And what might they be?”

  My lips inch closer. “First, I’d like to kiss you.”

  “I like this plan.”

  “I thought you might.”

  Grayson chuckles. “Anything more than just kissing?”

  I move my hands down his body, tugging his shirt up so I can touch him. “There could be some touching.”

  “Well, I like touching.”

  “Do you now?” I ask, playfully.

  Grayson’s hand finds the skin along my back where my shirt has ridden up a bit. “I definitely like touching you.”

  I grin against his lips. “I think I’d like to keep kissing. But not just your lips.”

  His dimple deepens a bit, giving him a devilish look. “What else do you want to kiss, love?”

  I pull his shirt up over his head as I straddle him. He’s so beautiful. I know that’s not what men want to hear, but that’s what he is. Perfect. Gorgeous. Still able to make my heart race with just a look.

  Grayson is every fantasy in living form. He is strong, sweet, and funny. To be given another chance to love him is a gift I don’t deserve.

  I move down his body slowly, never allowing my lips to leave his skin. “I like this spot,” I say as I swirl my tongue around his nipple. His eyes close, and I move lower. “But I think there are other spots that I’d like to kiss more.”

  A throaty moan falls from his lips, and I slide down farther, hooking my fingers in the waistband of his shorts, removing them as well. “Jess,” he says my name, low and gruff.

  “Do you want me to kiss you there?” I ask with a coy smile, staring at his thick, hard cock.

  “That’s like asking a dying man if he wants to draw another breath.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want you to stop breathing.” I bring my lips to him, running my tongue around the rim. “Do you feel like you’re dying?”

  “You’re definitely killing me.”

  Instead of a witty comeback, I take him deep into my mouth. His hips buck up, and then his fingers are in my hair. I bob my head, trying to take him into the back of my throat, wanting him to feel nothing but ecstasy.

  His grip tightens, pulling on the strands as I move faster while cupping his balls.

  “Jess, baby, stop.” He barely gets the words out between breaths. “Love. I can’t.” The tone is clear that he’s barely hanging on. But I want this.

  The power to make him lose it.

  The thrill of knowing I’m giving him pleasure and driving him to this point.

  However, he’s not having it. He grips my hips, pulling me up so fast that I gasp, and then I feel his mouth on my clit.

  Grayson’s tongue presses hard, circling the nub as he pushes a finger into me, causing me to almost scream.

  Two can play at that. I adjust myself and take him back into my mouth. Both of us using our tongues, sucking, and driving the other to release.

  His low moan against my clit causes me to tremble. I can feel my orgasm racing closer. Not just from the things he’s doing but because of how much I love doing this to him. Grayson’s tongue moves faster, and I can feel the edge nearing.

  Then, right when I’m there, he stops.

  I nearly cry out, but he turns me, lining himself up at my entrance. I don’t hesitate before I sink down on him.

  Our eyes meet and something so powerful passes through us that I start to cry. I am so in love with this man.

  Just feeling him inside me is too much, and I fall apart and my world will never be the same again.

  Chapter 26

  Jessica

  “So you’re staying? Like, for good?”

  Delia and I are a few towns over, eating lunch.

  “I mean, I think so. Grayson wants to tell Amelia about us and move forward.” Not that I’m really sure what that means.

  She leans back, popping a fry in her mouth. “I’m really happy for you.”

  “I’m happy too, which is what scares me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because happiness fades and reality sucks.”

  Delia nods. “True, but you could be in love with a guy who doesn’t care about you. That would really be shitty, huh?”

  “Deals,” I say reaching out for her, but she waves her hand dismissively.

  “Don’t. It’s fine. I’m the idiot.”

  Before we can say more, Stella walks over. “Hey! I didn’t know you guys were here. I thought you would be resting after three days at the beach house.”

  It’s crazy how invested these people are in my love life. “There’s no need to rest, we really took it easy.”

  Delia snorts. “I’m sure you did.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask Stella.

  Stella pulls a chair out to sit. “Where else do you think I can shop? It’s not like we have stores worth a damn in Willow Creek.”

  “True. Story.” Delia nods while eating another fry.

  “So, I’m here with a new handbag and a lifelong desire to move. Anyway, how did your trip go? Did you and Grayson talk and decide what’s going on with you guys?”

  “Yes, we talked, and . . . I think we’re going to tell Amelia next week.”

  She smiles brightly. “She’s going to be so happy.”

  “You think?”

  Stella’s hand grips mine. “I do. She really likes you. She said you’re her favorite of Grayson’s friends and hopes you live with her. I’d say that’s a good sign.”

  Amelia has become incredibly important to me. During our trip to the beach, we laughed, played games, and she cemented herself in my heart. As much as I despise the decision her biological mother made, a part of me is grateful because I’m able to spend this time with her.

  “Hopefully, she takes the news that we’re not just friends well.”

  “I’m assuming this means the two of you have really solidified your relationship then?”

  “Yes,” I tell her with a smile. “We have.”

  “That’s wonderful. I always loved you with Grayson. He hasn’t been this happy since, well, since before you left.”

  I squeeze her hand and then release it. “Thank you.”

  “Now, whatever bullshit you hear from others, dismiss it. What matters is you and Grayson and Amelia. That’s it.”

  I don’t need to be a genius to know who she’s talking about. Grayson and I haven’t discussed his parents in a few weeks. There’s really nothing that either of us can say to make that front any better. The only other thing I need to decide on is my career.

  While I enjoy working at the inn, it’s not what I want to do.

  I miss flying. I miss having a job that I love and looked forward to. Even though I was in a horrific crash, there is something about being in the air that I love. I’m not afraid of falling, I’m afraid of being told that I can’t go where I want. Working at the Park Inn is a placeholder job, and I need a permanent job that fulfills me the way my last job did if I’
m going to stay here.

  “No matter what, since I’m staying, I don’t know that I’ll continue working for you guys,” I tell Stella.

  She grabs one of Delia’s fries. “Okay . . .”

  “I think it would be better for me to find my own thing and not have it tied in any way to your parents.”

  Delia laughs once. “What, are you going to work at the factory with me?”

  “No, I don’t know what I’ll do, but there has to be something.”

  “If you find it, let me know because I hate my fucking job.”

  “There is going to be a job opening at the inn,” I say with a smirk.

  “Then maybe I’ll have to apply.”

  Yeah, that is a disaster ready to happen. Delia and Stella are friends, but working together is a whole other type of friendship. Not to mention, Grayson will probably kill her.

  Stella and I exchange a glance that lets me know we’re on the same page, and then she stands. “I need to get back to work and then I have a date.”

  “Oh! With?”

  “No one you know.” Stella grins.

  Delia rolls her eyes. “As if there’s anyone in a twenty-mile radius that isn’t connected to someone in this town . . .”

  “Then I guess you’ll hear about it sometime soon.” She walks off, leaving Delia and I a little stunned.

  “Who do you think she’s dating?” she asks.

  “No idea.”

  “Me either, especially because I’m pretty sure she has a thing for Jack.”

  My jaw falls slack at that proclamation. “Jack? Like, Jack O’Donnell?”

  “Yup. I mean, she’s never said anything, but I’ve seen her eye-fucking him a few times. Then there was this time a few years ago . . . I don’t know.”

  “Grayson would kill him,” I inform her.

  “Why?”

  “Stella’s his baby sister. The Parkersons have always protected her in a way that is almost ridiculous.”

  I can’t imagine a world where Stella and Jack are a couple. Not just because he’s older than her but also because he’s . . . Jack. He’s the jokester. The one who laughs off life because he knows just how cruel it can be. He’s never serious about love, not after watching his mother die and his father take off.