Done [Running to Love 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Allyson Young

  The ring tone of her cell woke her from her light doze, and she fumbled for it, flipping it open. Gladys.

  “How are you, Lacey?” The older woman’s voice warmed Lacey.

  “I’m doing much better, Gladys, thanks. And thank you for everything. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.” The bedroom door cracked open, and Greg poked his head in. Lacey silently stared at him until he withdrew.

  “I was just calling to let you know that you’ve got this coming week arranged as sick time, dear.”

  “Wow, that’s great, Gladys, but I’ll be back tomorrow. No problem.”

  There was a moment of silence, and then Gladys said cautiously, “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve been through a difficult time.”

  “No different than lots of other people, Gladys, and I’ll go insane if I have to stay home. I may not make it through the whole day, seeing as I tend to nap a lot, but I’ll be there.”

  After a few more reassurances, Gladys clicked off, and Lacey decided to call Alex. The other woman didn’t have long to chat. Lacey suspected she was interrupting some time stolen during Aiden’s afternoon nap, so she offered her thanks for Alex’s thoughtfulness in sending the clothes to the hospital, asked after Aiden, and assured Alex she was doing well and ready to return to work. By the time she had hung up the phone, Lacey had pretty much convinced herself. She got up and crossed to her closet to assemble an outfit for the next day and then went to tell Greg his services were no longer required.

  * * * *

  “You are not returning to work tomorrow!” Greg’s tone brooked no argument. He slammed the frying pan he had been scrubbing down on the counter and grabbed a towel to wipe his hands.

  Lacey held her ground. “I am. I’ll go in for the morning at least. So thanks for everything, but you can clear out.”

  She was unprepared for Greg’s response, although she shouldn’t have been. He drew himself up to his full height and advanced on her. Lacey made her feet stay anchored to the floor and didn’t retreat. For a moment, the old sexual tension snapped between them, the dominance in him pulling her submissive side. She covertly dug her nails into her palms and used the small pain to help her resist. Even when he pulled her to him and gave her a little shake, even when he took her mouth in a devastating kiss, a tiny part of her stayed sane and kept her from responding.

  If Greg had continued his assault on her senses for even a few more seconds, Lacey would have crumbled, but he pulled back to stare into her eyes. This time he shook his own head and carefully released her, smoothing her shirt down over her arms. Lacey saw the pain in his eyes and shuttered her own. He was never again going to have the opportunity to get close enough emotionally to hurt her, and that meant hardening her heart against his obvious hurt when what she really wanted to do was soothe him and love him back. That decision didn’t sit right with her, but it was all she had.

  “All right. I’ll take you to work and wait for you. When you get tired, I’ll bring you back here.”

  Damn it. He just wouldn’t say die. “It’s not necessary, Greg. I’ll be fine. We both need to get on with our lives. There’s nothing for you here.”

  “You’re here, Lacey. I’m staying until I’m certain you’ll be okay on your own, if you won’t consider taking me back.”

  Lacey closed her eyes. Her ability to stand firm would be sorely tested if he persisted in staying with her. She would just have to work as long as she could each day and then hide out in her bedroom.

  “A work week. Five days,” she negotiated.

  Greg shook his head. “I’ll stay as long as I feel you need me.”

  Lacey threw up her hands in disgust and stomped away to prepare for her return to the workplace. She would put a few more outfits together and organize her jewelry and then have an early night after she tried the food Greg was struggling to prepare in the kitchen. Her bottom tingled as she headed into her bedroom and she just knew that Greg was itching to tan it. It felt kind of good to poke the bear when its teeth were effectively drawn, at least for the time being.

  The potatoes weren’t quite cooked through, and the pork chops were fairly charred. Greg glared at their plates as though blaming his culinary failure on someone else. He hadn’t managed to screw up the creamed corn, although Lacey preferred hers heated and not simply dumped into a bowl right out of the can. She managed not to smile or even hint at her amusement. When she thought of all the lonely meals and the food she had put down the compactor when Greg hadn’t bothered to show up for dinner, well, it felt suspiciously like it bloody well served him right. She managed to eat a little of everything and carefully avoided looking at him. They exchanged desultory conversation, and she could feel Greg’s tension. It was all she could do not to try and assuage it. Now that he seemed more like the old Greg, there was still the same strong connection between them despite everything that had taken place, and Lacey began to feel more worried and afraid. She couldn’t give in to this pull. She couldn’t allow Greg to get to her again and then leave once he had paid this particular debt, gotten her back on her feet. She had to convince him that she was fine so that he would move on sooner than later and leave more of her behind when he did so.

  She curled up on the couch and watched an old episode of Friends, smiling at the foolish antics of the actors. As if life was really like that. Oh, they had the angst down pat, the matter of the heart in hand, but the fairy-tale ending was almost always implied no matter the judicious use of humor. Everyone ended up with somebody. Greg was rattling dishes around in the kitchen, and Lacey winced, knowing that her cups in particular would likely be chipped along the edges. But she wasn’t going to go and help him and create a domestic alliance of any sort. When he came out, wiping his hands, the front of his jeans wet from the spray of the temperamental kitchen faucet, Lacey resolutely turned her eyes back to the television screen. She should have warned him about how the thing sprayed in every direction if one turned it on past half a turn, but again it was about trying to ensure he wouldn’t get too comfortable here.

  “Honey?”

  She pretended to be startled by his presence. “What?”

  “I’m going to go and get the laundry from Edith, and then take a shower, so if you want to use the bathroom first, I just thought I’d give you a heads-up.”

  Lacey bit her lip and managed not to snark. Edith. Damn him. She didn’t even call her landlady by her given name. How did he do that? How did he charm every woman who crossed his path? She managed to smile. “Nope, I’m fine.”

  As soon as the door closed behind him, she felt her face crack and her mouth tremble. He was getting to her with his determined presence and self-effacing demeanor. Well, maybe not so humble outside of his housekeeping efforts. They were certainly humbling him, and yet it also felt kind of nice to be catered to. It wasn’t that Greg hadn’t taken care of her before that thrice damned night. He had. They had each taken care of the other by doing whatever they did best, sharing the duties. Greg simply wasn’t domestic. He was more of a provider and a yard-care kind of guy. And he always more than took care of her sexual needs, needs she hadn’t known she had, long before he took care of his own. Lacey shook off her errant thoughts like water off a shaggy dog and firmed her mouth. It was just one more thing to blame him for. Those sexual needs he had built in her would be a trial for the rest of her hormonal life. She stood and made her way to the bedroom after making a quick stop to use the bathroom facilities. She would shower in the morning and then head off to her job. Greg could hang around until he saw for himself he was no longer necessary in her life. She shut and locked the bedroom door, and not because she didn’t trust Greg. Lacey was worried that she might not be able to trust herself, and would let him sleep with her and hold her and allow him to insinuate himself back into her life.

  * * * *

  Greg put the last of the laundry away with the exception of Lacey’s clothes. He knew, without trying the knob, that she had locked the door against him. He wasn’t su
re if that was a good sign or not, if it was to keep him out or herself in. He laid the folded clothing on the little table that sat against the wall between the two bedroom doors and stared at the barrier Lacey had set between them. His alpha twitched at the challenge, but he pushed it down along with his libido and took himself off to the shower. The handheld nozzle tried his patience, as did the billowing shower curtains that wouldn’t stay against the edges of the heavy claw-footed tub, but instead clung to him, impeding any actual real use of the soap that smelled like Lacey. His cock swelled and filled at the scent, and Greg stood there, showerhead in one hand, his little man in the other, all wrapped in fabric and steam. He snarled at the sensations, released his cock, and wrenched the water off, cursing at the sudden burst of cold until the pressure fully dropped. Greg was feeling pushed to the limits of his patience, but this hell was a result of his own making, and he was simply going to have to find additional reserves of control. Lacey was not going to outlast him and push him away.

  Greg dried off and carefully folded and hung the towel in alignment with Lacey’s on the one and only towel bar. The little act comforted him and he walked out of the bathroom, naked, to the couch. It was indeed long enough and wide enough and surprisingly comfortable. He dragged the little soft throw over him that Lacey had huddled under while she watched television earlier, and chose to take heart in the thought that maybe she had left it for just that purpose. It, too, smelled like her, and he stroked his cock to assuage it.

  Chapter Twelve

  The sound of water running again pulled him from a deep sleep, and he stretched, pleasantly surprised that he felt rested and that nothing hurt or was stiff, except for his cock which hadn’t softened an iota. He swung his feet to the floor, the old boards creaking under his weight, the ancient nap of the area rug warding off any chill, not that the room was cold. He padded into the bathroom and used the toilet, very aware of Lacey shrouded in the same curtain that had tried to smother him the previous evening. He flushed, and she shrieked.

  “Shit! What the…”

  Greg yanked the curtain back and pulled her out of the tub in one fluid movement, her dripping form slipping and sliding against his chest. She struggled and flailed for a moment and then froze, her hair escaping from its knot on the crown of her head to frame her face and flow over her shoulders. Water dripped from the tip of her nose and her eyelashes spiked with the moisture. The erection Greg had just mastered rose again like Old Faithful, and his heart thundered in his chest. He fought down the urge to kiss her and gently set her on her feet, her beaded nipples dragging like little erasers over his skin.

  “Are you okay? I’m sorry. I forgot about the eccentric plumbing in these old places.”

  Lacey backed away from him until she came up against the tub. The water pounded into it, and the spray hissed and splattered on the curtain and dripped onto the floor. He reached past her to turn it off. They faced one another for what felt like forever before Lacey replied.

  “I’m fine. It was just a surprise when the pressure and temperature changed. Why would you come in here while I was showering anyhow?”

  Greg was struck by just how far he had fallen. He wanted to pick her up and carry her to the bed and fuck her. He wanted to smack her ass to show her that she was wrong, that they were still destined, and that she shouldn’t have carried the bassinet, and shouldn’t lock her door against him, and a host of other things he found unacceptable. But most of all, he wanted to hold her and somehow convince her that he loved her to distraction and was going to spend the rest of his life making things up to her. He couldn’t do any of the former yet, and she wasn’t listening to the latter, so instead, he shrugged and to his immediate chagrin, was flippant. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, honey.”

  Lacey’s eyes narrowed, and she drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t much really, but she looked fairly impressive for all of that. He looked at her familiar, curvy body and the wave of desire that swept over him hollowed out his insides. Her mouth opened, and Greg braced himself for a set down, maybe a tirade, but then her shoulders slumped, and she hunched in on herself. She sidestepped him and snagged her towel, awkwardly wrapping it around her body. “Excuse me.”

  Greg cursed under his breath. He blocked her path and reached out to pull her close, his feet sliding in the water on the floor. “I’m sorry, honey. I keep saying that, I know. I just can’t stand how you’re trying to keep me at a distance, so I got smart-mouthed.”

  Lacey said, without looking at him, without even raising her head, “I need you to keep your distance. Please.”

  Greg shook his head as he released her. “No can do. Go do whatever you need to if you’re that determined to go to work. I’ll make something to eat and be ready to take you.”

  Lacey trudged away in the direction of her bedroom. Greg hated to see her despondent, but was equally determined to prevail. He had felt the hint of her passion before she replaced it with sadness, suborning it. He was done apologizing, done trying to make amends with words and explanations. Actions spoke louder, and he was a man of them. He washed up, and brushed his hair smooth, then cleaned his teeth before pulling his clothes on. He approached the kitchen with no sense of trepidation. Eggs and toast, maybe oatmeal, were surely easy enough breakfast items to prepare. He could do coffee.

  * * * *

  Greg handed Lacey the milk for the cold cereal he had unearthed from one of the lower cabinets. The old-fashioned kitchen lacked a fan, but he had pried the window open to let the smell of burned eggs and scorched oatmeal out. The toaster was also cursed, just like the freaking faucets in this place. Greg didn’t care for continual restaurant food, or fast food, but had survived on them and sandwiches and pity meals for the past months. It was just another reminder of how Lacey had taken care of him, taken care of all of his physical needs. He watched her spoon up the little oat circles and winced as her tongue slipped out to chase an errant one from her bottom lip. He missed that mouth more than her cooking, much more. He had taught her how he liked his blow jobs, and she had taken his instruction and turned it into a fine art. He took a swig of coffee and winced again, this time at the burn.

  “Ready to go, honey?”

  Lacey nodded and stood to gather up her dishes and carry them to the kitchen. She stacked them in the sink, and Greg sighed. He missed having a dishwasher, although, come to think of it, he hadn’t really been much help to her there either. There were so many things he had taken for granted. He followed her example with his own dishes and stowed the milk in the fridge before grabbing his keys, and then followed her out the door. She made her way down the stairs with no sign of difficulty, and Greg thought that maybe she had made the right decision to return to work. If she really felt up to it, and Gladys would be his eyes and ears in the office, Lacey might just heal quicker with routine and a sense of accomplishing something. He just wished he had a greater sense of the same, but the little tableau in the bathroom had given him a bit more hope. He would drop her off and head home to grab some clothes and a few other items he might need, before checking in at the station. He wasn’t planning to go back to work yet, but felt the desire for a chat with a couple of his colleagues, and then he wanted to pick up a few groceries. Maybe there would be some cooking instructions or a cookbook available at the supermarket, too.

  The drive to Lacey’s work was a somewhat reminiscent of better times, if a bit silent. Greg used to drive his woman to her job whenever he could, picking up coffee on the way, talking about their plans for the evening, and kissing her soundly before letting her exit the vehicle. He pulled into the loading zone outside of her office and jumped out to go around and help Lacey out. She was out of the truck and halfway up the steps before he got there, robbing him of the anticipated kiss good-bye, and he wanted to chase her down. Instead, he called after her, reminding her that he would pick her up for lunch. He was acknowledged with a casual wave and treated to the sight of her perky little butt vanishing inside. He sigh
ed. This was about re-establishing trust and rebuilding a relationship, but he wished Lacey would at least meet him halfway. She was being so stubborn. He climbed back into the truck and pulled out into traffic, heading for his house.

  * * * *

  “Hey, Gladys!”

  Gladys looked up from her desk and said, “So you really meant it, Lacey! How are you? Should you be here? Does your young man approve?”

  Lacey kept her smile somehow, although it felt like it might just crack and fall right off her face. Goddamn Greg. She gritted her teeth and said, “I’m fine, really. I don’t know if I’ll make it through the day, but it’s good to be back into the routine.”

  Judging from the look on her face, Gladys realized she had pushed a button by mentioning Greg. “I’m sorry, honey. I know that you want to be independent.”

  Lacey moved past Gladys to the door of her little office and blanched at the piles of paper in her inbox. “Oh my God! And it’s not even tax time! It’s a good thing I’m back, even for a few hours. I’d better get started.”

  She powered up her computer and began to sort through her emails and then turned her attention to a full voice mailbox. The familiar routine and predicable forms and numbers soon had her engrossed, and she worked steadily until Gladys brought her coffee around ten. She accompanied her back to the reception area and they took their break while chatting desultorily about the upcoming tax season and how crazy things would get. Gladys didn’t mention Greg or the baby, and Lacey kept the conversation on the future without mentioning them either. Lacey drank down the dregs and willingly handed over her cup for Gladys to wash before heading back into her office. The pile had markedly diminished, and that gave her a sense of satisfaction, but she was getting tired. She worked for another hour before calling it quits.