by Lori Ryan
He was in therapy. He had low self-esteem and had masked it by working hard, trying to capture the world’s attention. All this time she’d believed he was indifferent, but she was beginning to understand she really didn’t know her husband at all. And he didn’t know her. She should open up, tell him the truth.
Taking the folder out from her suitcase, she thumbed through the pages. She’d signed on the designated spot. The only thing that was needed to make it official before filing was Grant’s signature. She stared at the blank line, not sure whether she wanted to shred the papers or have him sign them tonight.
Sophie opened the drawer of her nightstand where she’d placed her copy of Emmett’s latest novel. She turned the folder upside down and slipped it under the book. She needed time before she decided what to do once and for all.
“Dinner’s ready,” Grant called from down below.
She smiled, thinking of Grant in the kitchen. One thing his mother had done was teach each of her sons to master the kitchen before they moved out. Valerie had said she never wanted them to be a burden to their wives.
She quickly slipped on a pair of jeans and sweatshirt along with a fuzzy pair of socks and stepped down the stairs.
“It smells good,” she said as she rounded the corner into the kitchen.
Grant stood at the stove, his back to her.
She pushed back the desire to wrap her arms around his waist and snuggle into him, inhaling his masculine scent, one that she’d never smelled anywhere else except on Grant.
“What can I do?” she asked.
“You want to set the table?”
“Sure. Where are the plates?”
He nodded to a shelf. “Up there. Silverware is in the drawer beside the dishwasher.”
“Okay,” she said, working at the task at hand, thankful to have her mind thinking of something other than molesting her husband.
“So, what’s for dinner?” she asked, grabbing the plates and silverware, arranging them just so.
“Lemon chicken with penne pasta.”
“Oh, that’s my favorite.”
He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “I know.”
God, that smile. It had captured millions of hearts all over the world, including hers.
“Thanks for cooking.”
“Sure thing. I actually like cooking, when I get the time.”
“I know what you mean.” She leaned a hip against the counter. “The kitchen in the tour bus isn’t big enough to make a really good meal like this.”
“Plus, you’re not the greatest cook.”
She scowled at him but couldn’t really argue the point.
“How much longer on this tour?”
“Well, I thought a month, but with this break, I guess I won’t be done until right before Christmas.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and it sounded like he meant it.
“It’s okay. We really do need to figure this out, once and for all. Right?”
He nodded once but didn’t say more.
He lifted the pan and brought it to the table. “Can you grab a pot holder?”
“Sure.” She pulled open several drawers before finding one, then raced around him to place it in the middle. “God, it smells so good. I can’t wait.”
He set the skillet down and grabbed a large serving dish. “I figured it would warm you up. Are you okay now?”
She nodded and slipped into her chair.
Grant followed, sitting down in his own. “Here you go.” He handed her several napkins. “I know you’re an enthusiastic eater.”
She laughed. “I like food. Sue me.”
“Yeah, you do. I’m glad.”
She dished them both a serving. “Why?”
“My family likes to eat. I like to eat. It would suck to be married to a woman who didn’t enjoy food.”
This time the reference didn’t make her wince. She shoved a piece of pasta and chicken into her mouth and moaned. “So good,” she mumbled around the food.
“Plus, I like the noises you make when you eat a dish you love.” He slipped a bit of chicken into his mouth and smiled.
She choked on her bite and reached for the water.
“I’m sorry about the canoe earlier,” he offered.
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stood.”
“You were worried.”
Sophie wrinkled her nose. “Maybe tomorrow’s adventure should be on land.”
“I want to take you somewhere tomorrow.”
“Drive?”
“No, this would be hiking.”
“Hiking I can do,” she said, shoving in another huge bite. “So good.” She chewed and swallowed.
“I’m not going to take it away, Soph.”
“I don’t know why I’m so hungry.”
Grant was watching her intently. “Can I ask you something?”
A sinking feeling hit her in the pit of her stomach. She set down her fork and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Sure. I guess.”
“You said earlier on the lake it was your fault you miscarried.”
Yep, definitely not a subject she wanted to talk about. She didn’t answer, watching her plate instead.
“What did you mean?”
She leaned back in her chair with a sigh.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you lose your appetite. I’m just,” he paused, setting his fork down. “I’m worried about you, Soph.”
She smiled. “Don’t worry.”
“I’ll always worry, no matter where you are. Especially since you’ve told me about the stalker, and now this.”
“First, the stalker isn’t really a stalker. No one has seen him since Chicago. I trust Oscar and his team.”
He nodded but didn’t seem convinced. “And second?” he said. “The medical. You’ve hinted at something but haven’t told me. What is it?”
Staring down at her chicken which no longer seemed so appetizing, she drew in a deep breath. “About six months ago I saw and felt a lump on my throat.” His fork clattered against his plate and her head shot up.
Grant’s eyes were wide, his mouth ajar. “Are you serious? Is it cancer? What do we need to do to fight it?” She could see his pulse throbbing at his neck. He was worried, just as she’d been.
“I’m fine, Grant. I promise. There’s no cancer. It turned out to be benign.”
“How do they know it’s not cancer?”
Shoot, he’s really worried. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just blurted it out.”
“It’s okay, just please tell me what’s going on with you.”
She leaned back in the chair, deciding to start at the beginning.
“I was doing some vocal exercises in the mirror and that’s when I noticed a small bump. I thought maybe it was just my lymph nodes. I’d felt weird for a few days so I blew it off. When I told Jackie about it a few days later she made me see a doctor.”
“And?”
“He sent me to a specialist, an endocrinologist. He said it was probably nothing but they did bloodwork and found out I was hyperthyroid. He said I had a nodule on my thyroid”
“What does that mean?”
“My thyroid was producing too much hormone because of the nodule so my heart rate was elevated, among other things.”
“So what did they do?”
“They took a biopsy. Most nodules on your thyroid don’t produce any symptoms but since my bloodwork was off, they said it was protocol.”
“The biopsy came back as non-cancerous?” he asked, like he needed to confirm what she’s said earlier.
“Yes. They diagnosed it as benign.”
“What about the nodule, or whatever it is. What did they do?”
“I underwent laser therapy to reduce the size in hopes it would bring my thyroid back into normal range. It’s scary because there’s a chance there could be damage to my vocal cords.”
“Oh, shit, Soph. Are you okay, can you still sing? I mean, of course you can sing. You just did.
How are you? What are they doing now?”
She bit back a small smile, warming at his concern even though she hated to worry him. “I’m fine now. The laser therapy worked, the nodule has shrunk, and my blood chemistry is leveling out.”
“Oh, thank God,” he blew out slow breath. “Wait.” He sat up ramrod straight. “What about now, what are they doing for follow-up?”
“For now we’re waiting. I’ll go back in a few weeks to see how the nodule is progressing and check my levels.”
“What if it’s not okay, what if it’s growing or things are getting worse?”
“That’s highly unlikely. If it’s not shrinking and my levels are coming down enough they’ll perform another laser procedure to try and reduce it further.”
“Does it hurt? The procedure I mean.”
“No, they shoot you up with a local anesthetic. It’s not bad.”
Grant’s eyes searched hers, the concern hurting her heart. “Soph, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you call me?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…”
Grant stood and walked to the other side of the table, kneeling beside her. “No matter what happens with our marriage, we’ll always be friends, Sophie. And I will always want to be there for you.” He said this last slowly, enunciating each word.
Her chin quivered and she realized, not for the first time, how much she’d missed him.
He reached around her waist and drew her to him. “Come here.”
She clutched at him, as if he were her life raft in a raging storm.
“Promise me, Soph,” he whispered into her neck. “Promise me you’ll always tell me when you’re sick or hurting.”
She nodded, realizing now was the time to tell him. “There’s something else,” she said, pulling away.
She took a steadying breath. “My elevated thyroid levels may have been the cause of me miscarrying.” Her gaze held his. “I might not be able to carry children even after the thyroid levels get straightened out.”
He grasped her again, tugging her tight. “I don’t give a shit about that Sophie, as long as you’re safe.”
“They don’t know for sure. The only way to find out for sure is if I actually get pregnant again.”
Grant stiffened in her arms.
“I know you weren’t really set on having children right now, and I think I understand why, but I need to know something before we go further with trying to figure out our relationship.”
Grant leaned back, his eyes searching hers. “What?”
“Do you want children…at all?”
“Yes.”
“With me?”
He smiled, a genuine expression that melted her insides. “I want it all,” he paused, brushing back a piece of her hair, “but only with you.”
In that moment, she did too. She just wasn’t sure if they could have it all.
Grant slipped a hand behind her neck and pulled her head toward him, smiling. “We could practice now if you want.”
She laughed.
“Kiss me, woman,” he said.
She smiled at his command. He’d given the same mandate on their first date, and just like then, she was unable to resist him. “So demanding,” she said as she lowered her head and brushed her lips against his.
She leaned in to deepen the kiss but Grant pulled back, the look on his face showing that the move had taken effort on his part. She was thankful for his restraint. Their relationship had started out fast and furious in the beginning, their desire for one another so strong it had burned them both.
“Let’s go slow this time,” he said as if understanding her concern.
She nodded, her hands falling from his shoulders.
He stood and walked back to his chair, sitting. “Eat,” he said, gesturing to her plate with his head.
Grant had always cared about her well-being. Somehow, she’d forgotten that. Maybe it was her who had shut herself off after the miscarriages.
“Yes, sir.” She smiled, stuffing a forkful of chicken and pasta into her mouth.
Grant stared at her lips and something deep inside melted.
Go slow, go slow, go slow. Maybe if she repeated it enough, she would.
Chapter Twenty-One
“I thought you said we were hiking,” Sophie said. She was gripping the armrest on the Jeep’s door and leaning forward, eagerly.
“We are.”
“But we’re heading toward your mom’s house. I didn’t think we were going to dinner with them until Friday.”
“I’m taking you someplace else. And I told them we’re not going to dinner with them.”
Sophie turned in her seat to look at him. “What? Why?”
He glanced over at her. “You really want to go to dinner with my family?”
“I love your family.”
He raised a brow. “You know they’re going to interrogate us relentlessly.”
She nodded. “True.”
“We’ll talk about it later.” He turned off the paved road that led to his mother’s house onto a rutted path that had nearly grown over.
“Are we headed to the creek?” she asked, the excitement rising in her voice.
“Yep.”
“Ooo, I love the creek.”
“I know.”
“The sound of water crashing over rocks and the shore, it’s like music.”
“That’s saying something coming from a musician.”
She laughed. “I know, right. It’s just so soothing to sit in the quiet and listen to nature.”
That’s what he was hoping for.
“Okay, we’re here.”
Sophie leaned forward and stared out of the windshield. “This isn’t the creek.”
“I said we were going to hike.”
“Oh, okay.”
He laughed quietly at her disappointment as he reached in the backseat for the bag he’d packed.
“What’s in there?”
“You’ll see.”
“I hope it’s food. I’m starving.”
He chuckled as he opened the door. “You’re always hungry, Cookie Monster.”
Sophie grinned at the nickname he’d given her years ago as she stepped from the Jeep and met him at the hood. She leaned against the bumper, taking in her surroundings while he took her in.
Huge pine and spruce trees dominated the land. They were standing close to the base of Canyon Creek Mountain, the top visible through the clearings of the tops of the trees.
“Come on,” Grant held out his hand, surprised when Sophie slipped hers into his.
They walked in comfortable silence, the sound of the creek echoing in the distance as the whispering of the trees rustled in the wind.
“Where are we?”
“My property.”
“You mean your mom’s property.”
“Nope. This is mine.”
She stopped and released his hand. “Seriously?”
He nodded but continued walking.
“Grant,” she called after him as she jogged to catch up. “This is seriously yours?”
“Uh-huh,” he answered. It was all he said until he’d reached a clearing where the creek was visible.
“Did you buy it from your mom?”
He dropped the bag on the ground. “No, she gave my brothers and me each a piece of land here.”
“Are you serious? When?”
“Shortly after my father passed away. She has seventy acres. Aunt Sally has fifty and my Uncle Mark has thirty. Or had thirty.”
“What do you mean?”
“He sold it to my father and aunt several years ago.”
“Why?”
Grant shrugged. “I’m really not sure. I never asked. He and my Aunt Lisa have always lived in a large house in town.”
“But this is like the best part of the land, right by the creek,” she turned and pointed toward the horizon, and the mountain range in the background. “Why wouldn’t your mom want to live here?”
“M
y parents built the house on their piece of the property years ago, purposely far from the water. She said she didn’t want to be close to the creek because she was afraid her kids would fall in.”
“Considering you and your brothers, that was probably a pretty good idea.” She snorted.
“You think a little distance would stop me and my brothers from getting into trouble on this part of the land?”
“True.”
Grant spread out a blanket, enjoying the bright sunshine overhead tamed by the coolness in the air. Fall was truly approaching and he knew that soon they’d have the first snowfall.
Sophie sat on the blanket and stared up at him.
“Food’s in the bag.” He chuckled.
She rummaged through and pulled out a granola bar and a bottle of water. “Want one?”
“No, I’m good for now.”
She ripped open the package of one of the bars and bit off a piece. She closed her eyes as she chewed, tipping her face up to the sun.
He watched the long column of her neck as she swallowed and felt something in his pants stir. Jesus, all she was doing was eating and he was turned on.
Of course, he’d gone to bed with a raging hard-on last night after that kiss. A part of him wondered why he had slowed down their progress, but his gut told him it was the right thing to do.
“So all of your brothers have a piece of the land?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Kind of sounds like a compound.” She smiled.
“You know my mom. She’s praying for a shit ton of grandkids, and she wants them close.”
Sophie’s smile fell and she stuffed the empty wrapper into the bag.
He reached for her leg. “I’m sorry, Soph. You know I don’t care how we have kids, right? Surrogate, adoption. I won’t care.”
She shook her head, staring down at his hand. “It’s okay.”
But he knew it wasn’t. He knew she wanted children of her own. And he wasn’t still one hundred percent convinced she would stay with him.
“This is your spot?” she asked, surveying the area.
“Well, my mom gave us thirty of her seventy acres. My brothers and I can divide them however we want. Max doesn’t want his acreage. He and Devlin bought the original bed and breakfast.”
“I always loved that house.”
