by Lori Ryan
Being back home in Canyon Creek had already infused him with so much strength. He’d forgotten how much family meant to him, how much they grounded him.
Sophie was just as close to her folks as well. Maybe he could talk her into a trip back to Oklahoma. Or maybe her parents could come out to Colorado. He’d always felt like his in-laws, Agnes and David Day, liked him well enough. And they loved their daughters.
Grant made it to the clearing, an area by the creek where he’d always come for refuge when he was young. The roaring creek flowed just beyond, the churning rapids growing louder as he neared.
Just like he often had in his youth, Sophie sat on the ground, watching the water dance over the rocks. She didn’t turn around, didn’t move, and he knew in that moment she was just as lost as he was, just as confused, just as weary with life.
He approached her cautiously, not wanting to scare her. “Hey,” he said when he was a few feet away.
“Hey,” she said, not turning to see him.
Maybe she had known he was there. He always sensed when she was close.
Yes, the tabloids and fans liked to say theirs was a whirlwind romance but he and Sophie both knew it was so much more. When you met the love of your life, you just knew. Unfortunately, like her song had said, love wasn’t always enough to sustain a lasting relationship like that of his parents.
He sat down beside her, hoping she wouldn’t run, and handed her the bag. “My Aunt Sally wanted me to give you these.”
She reached out and took the bag, opening it slowly.
The scent of cinnamon and sugar assaulted his senses and his stomach rumbled.
She laughed and glanced up at him. “I guess you’re expecting me to share.”
“Only if you want to.” He peeked over. “What’s in there?”
“Big-as-your-head cinnamon rolls.”
Grant laughed. That’s what Sophie had called them the first time she’d seen Aunt Sally’s monstrous cinnamon rolls several years ago. Sally had liked the name so much, she renamed them on the menu.
“There are two.” Her blue eyes met his and she gave a sad looking smile that broke his heart. “She knows I could never eat both of them. I’m assuming she wanted me to share.”
He shrugged, not wanting to push her. “If you want.”
“Here,” she said, handing him the first one she pulled out.
“Thanks,” he said quietly, biting off a huge piece.
She glanced up at him and laughed.
“What?” he asked through a mouthful of cinnamon roll.
“You took like half the roll in your first bite.”
“It’s good, I can’t help it.”
She laughed again, a real laugh, and his heart lightened.
She was much more delicate as she pulled her cinnamon roll out and wrapped it in a napkin before sinking her teeth into the gooey goodness. Her bite was smaller but no less ravenous. She moaned and something in his pants stirred.
Down boy. He laughed at the fact his body still reacted so strongly to her. It was like a cruel joke the universe was playing on him.
“What’s so funny?” she asked
Oh, crap, had he laughed out loud? “Nothing,” he said, staring off at the creek and the mountain beyond. “I love this spot. I always have.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “I can see why.”
He turned to stare at her. Even tired and worn out she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.
“What?” she asked, never turning toward him.
He shook his head.
“You’re thinking about sex, I can tell,” she said, finally turning to stare up at him.
He choked on his cinnamon roll. “What?”
“Nothing, never mind.”
Did she still think about sex with him, he wondered? This was about more than the physical right now, he had to remind himself.
They sat in uncomfortable silence until he could take it no longer. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Soph?”
“Honest?” she asked.
“Always.”
She snorted.
“What?”
“Like you’ve been honest with me this last year.”
“You left me, Sophie. You haven’t been around for me to share my life with you.”
She sat her cinnamon roll down and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “True. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out.”
“It’s okay.” He scooted closer and smoothed his hand over her back, surprised when she didn’t pull away. She tilted her head and laid her cheek on her knees. She looked nothing like the pop star most saw in public. She was his Sophie, shy, quiet, reserved…and breathtakingly beautiful.
“Talk to me,” he said.
“I feel like you manipulated me into being here this weekend.”
Well, hell. He kind of had.
He had told himself he was going to be honest with her so he needed to own that. “I did,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. I just lost the nerve to pick up the phone and ask you in person. I was afraid of what you’d say to seeing me, to coming back to my home town.”
She snorted. “The great Grant Sumner was afraid to do something.”
His hand fell away and he stared out at the water. “I’m afraid of a lot of things, Sophie, you know that.”
There was a time when his biggest fear was being forgotten. In the world of big-Hollywood films, the career of an actor was based on your ability to be relevant, to be ever present. That mentality had cost him Sophie.
And losing her had taught him there were a lot bigger things to fear than being forgotten.
“I’m sorry, I’m being rude,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You’re not being rude, you’re being honest, remember?” And she was. But he had changed. He just needed a chance to prove that to her. “Stay,” he said, wanting it more than he could say. Wanting that second chance with her.
She raised her head, staring at him like he had two heads. “What?”
“Stay with me, in Canyon Creek. Give me thirty days.”
“Thirty days for what?” Her tone was wary and tired.
Oh shit, he was supposed to ease into this idea of his. “During our three-year marriage we’ve literally only spent a handful of months together. That’s no way for a marriage to work.”
“Obviously,” she laughed, clutching her knees tighter to her chest.
“In all that time, we’ve been working nonstop. Our relationship has been splashed across the tabloids. We’ve never had any real time to ourselves, to get to know each other outside of the limelight.”
She closed her eyes but nodded.
“I’m just asking for thirty days. Stay with me in Canyon Creek. No travel, no paparazzi, no anything except us, a cabin, and the mountains. Get to know me, Sophie. The real me. The Grant Sumner who existed before the chaos of Hollywood.”
“No way.”
The irony of the whole thing was that she’d been the one to ask him to do this before, and he’d flat refused. She had every right to refuse him now.
He couldn’t accept that, though. “Why?”
“It—it just wouldn’t work with my schedule.” She studied him as if expecting him to explode. “I can’t clear my calendar for thirty days. We’re on tour.”
He bit back a smile. She could. Jackie had made sure already.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to take a break, Soph? You’re tired, I can see it.”
“What do you mean, I’m tired?” Her spine seemed to stiffen at that.
Oh, shit. “That came out wrong.”
“No, I think it came out perfectly.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you. You look exhausted. And now that you’ve told me about this creepy stalker dude, I’m even more concerned about you.”
“I’m fine,” she said just as defiantly as he remembered. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
He r
ubbed a hand down her arm. “Believe it or not, I’ll always worry about you, Sophie.” And that was the God’s honest truth.
Everything he’d done in the last year had been to protect her. Sure, he’d probably gone about it all wrong, but it had always been about her.
She stared at his hand on her arm for several moments before pulling away.
He thought about using the promise of signing the divorce papers to get her to stay, but didn’t want to go there. He wanted her to give him the chance because she believed in them, not because he was holding something over her head.
“At least give me the weekend then,” he said. “I know you had plans to leave tonight after Jasper’s screening. I’m asking you to stay until the closing of the festival on Sunday. I really want you to see my film, see what you think about it. It’s my directorial debut.”
“I know.” She smiled, a genuine expression that captured his heart all over again. “I’m so proud of you, Grant.”
His face split into a wide grin. He’d always wanted to be proud of his own work, but there was something about making Sophie proud of him that seemed even more important.
Her gaze held his for a long moment, her blonde hair blowing in the breeze. He tentatively raised a hand and tucked a loose strand behind her ear, lingering as he cupped her jaw. Her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into his touch the slightest bit before quickly jerking her head away.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough. It told him he still affected her, and he could work with that. He still wanted to get back what he’d destroyed.
He let his hand fall away and bent his knees, sprawling his hands behind him to lean back as he glanced up at the beautiful sky. “Can I ask you something?”
“I guess.”
“Why haven’t you signed the divorce papers?” Out of the corner of his eye he saw her stiffen. Her hands fell to the ground and she picked at the grass.
“Do you still love me, Soph?”
Her head remained bowed, her gaze trained on the grass. “Love isn’t always enough.”
“It takes more than love,” he said, reciting the lyrics to her song.
Her eyes met his but she was holding so much back from him. There was a time when he could read everything in her expressions. Now she was as closed off and unyielding as the mountain before them.
“I know it takes more than physical attraction, more than raw lust to make a marriage work,” he said. “It takes time, it takes commitment, it takes being together. Building a marriage means I lay down my own selfish needs to make sure your needs are met. It means I have to listen, really listen to you, and compromise. It means I’m not always right and I have to put you first, above all things.”
Sophie stared up at him, eyes wide at his pronouncement. He wasn’t surprised his words had shocked her. He’d been a selfish dick their entire marriage.
“It means I give you all the things I never did, Soph. I never could, until after you left.” He scooted closer, taking her hand in his, thankful when she didn’t pull away. “Losing you, losing my father, it opened my eyes. I want a second chance. I’m asking you for a second chance.”
Her blue eyes scanned his face and he wished he knew what she was thinking.
“It takes truth and grace to fill the broken parts,” he said. “That’s what your song says, right?”
She nodded, her mouth slightly agape.
“The truth is, I still love you, Sophie. More than the day I married you. And I think, I hope, you still love me, too.”
She sat motionless and he could almost see her formulating her argument. He knew he was asking her to risk being hurt and disappointed all over again. He could see that etched in the pain on her face. He held his breath, not sure what he expected next.
“I’ll give you the weekend,” she said softly and he let out a breath.
That was enough. For now.
Chapter Ten
Sophie walked into the apartment in front of Jackie, tossing her bag onto the small kitchen table. Before her sister could close the door, she turned and glared.
“What?” Jackie asked.
“I want you to tell me the truth.”
Jackie raised her brows. “Okay.”
“Did you clear my schedule for the next thirty days?”
Her sister had the good sense to look surprised. “Yes. Why? What did Grant say?”
“Nothing. He didn’t need to tell me. You just did.” She stalked into the living room and plopped down on the couch. She’d had a feeling Grant had been up to something when he asked for thirty days and she was right. “Why, Jackie?”
“I already told you.” She walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and pulled out a water. “Want one?”
Sophie shook her head. “What I want is an answer.”
Jackie blew out a breath and sat down in the chair across from her.
“Well?”
“I told you on the bus.” She cracked open the bottle and took a long swig.
“Refresh my memory.”
“You need to figure this out, Sophie. It’s time to either end this for good or find a way back to each other.”
“And you think staying here for thirty days is the way to figure it out?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Sophie felt her eyes burn with unwanted tears. “This was a set-up. How is that supposed to make me feel? Is that supposed to make me trust him? Or you?”
Jackie waved her off. “Oh, get over yourself,” she said. “You weren’t perfect either. When the going got tough, you left.”
Sophie was seething with anger. “I left because he wasn’t willing to change.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Look, Soph, I know you were hurting, physically and emotionally.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Sophie tried to push back the memories of last year when she and Grant had been together. Together wasn’t even the right word. He’d been consumed with filming the movie that eventually won him the Oscar. Too busy to take her desire to start a family seriously.
“I’m sorry, Sophie.” Jackie came around the table. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like we were trapping you.”
She felt her sister press in beside her, slipping a hand on her thigh.
“I’m not even going to pretend to know how difficult this has been on you,” Jackie said.
Grant pulling away from Sophie when she’d needed him most had been excruciating. Instead of leaning on one another when they should have been there for each other the most, he’d left her. She laughed out loud.
“What?” Jackie asked.
“I always tell myself that Grant left me.”
“Well, he kind of did, emotionally.”
“Yeah, but it was me who left physically.” Sophie leaned her head on Jackie’s shoulder.
“I think he was gone a long time before you left.”
“Was he? Or was it me?” Sophie asked, sinking back into the sofa, questioning her motives for the first time.
“That’s what you need to find out.”
“What brought on this change of heart where Grant is concerned?”
Jackie shrugged and took another long swig of her water.
Sophie raised a brow. “Why are you suddenly taking his side?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Sophie. Grow up. This isn’t just about you. Did you ever stop to think that Grant lost those babies, too?”
Sophie swallowed down the lump in her throat, willing back her tears at the mention of the babies she had wanted so badly.
“Did you two ever talk about the miscarriages?” Jackie asked. “I mean truly talk about them?”
She shook her head, unable to speak. She and Grant had been trying for a baby for several months when the first miscarriage happened. He seemed to get over it so quickly, saying they would try again right away. For Sophie, she felt like she needed to mourn the loss. She’d been devastated.
Then when the second mis
carriage had happened, she’d thought she would never get to be a mother. By the time the third one happened, Grant had distanced himself, burying himself in his work, saying he couldn’t risk slowing down. She felt all alone, suffering the loss and heartache by herself.
“Don’t you think maybe you should talk to him?” Jackie asked.
“Maybe. Possibly.” She hesitated, pulling at a loose thread on the sofa. “Yes.”
“Sophie, you know I love you like a sister.”
She laughed out loud. This was always Jackie’s joke when she was trying to make up for something.
“I’ll support you no matter what you decide to do. I always have.”
Sophie’s chin trembled and tears brimmed in her eyes.
“You’ve been keeping a grueling schedule this past year. You could use a break, sweetie.” She brushed Sophie’s hair over her shoulder.
“Is that your way of asking for a vacation?”
Jackie wiped a tear from Sophie’s face. “Absolutely.”
Sophie noticed Jackie suddenly picking at the label on the water bottle and worrying her bottom lip.
“What else Jackie? I know something else is going on.”
Jackie lifted her gaze and Sophie saw something she’d never seen in her sister’s eyes. Fear.
“Jackie, what’s going on?”
“It’s probably nothing,” Jackie stalled, averting her eyes.
“Let me decide. Just tell me.”
“I think it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to be out of the spotlight for a little bit. Someone broke into your house in LA.”
“What?” she shrieked. “When? How?”
“Two days ago.”
“And you’re just now telling me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you about it.”
“And now?” Sophie asked.
“Now, I think it’s a good idea for you to hang out in Colorado until the police figure this out.”
“They don’t know who did it?”
“Not yet.”
“What about my security cameras? Didn’t they pick up anything?”
