by Nerys Leigh
“I changed a few things around, to make some more room,” she said as they climbed the porch steps. “And I cleaned everything. And... well, you’ll see.”
Brutus trotted up behind them as they reached the door, looking hopeful.
She stroked his head. “I’m sorry, you can’t come in yet. But later, I promise.”
Gabriel wasn’t sure how the dog understood her, but he sat, tail swishing over the wooden boards and tongue hanging from his mouth.
She turned to the door, opened it, and walked in. Gabriel followed, pushing the door closed behind him before Brutus could sneak inside.
“So, what do you think?” She stood in the centre of the room, beaming.
His smile faded as he looked around. “You moved everything.”
“I did, but it makes so much more sense this way.” She spun around, pointing out the changes. “See, with the bed there I could have the chairs here which gave more room for the drawers over here. I couldn’t do anything with the stove, but putting the cupboard here meant I could move the table over so I could get the bookcase in here, and the washstand...” Seeing his expression, she stopped. “What’s wrong?”
It wasn’t his house anymore. She’d moved everything, his belongings, his clothes, his furniture. She’d even painted the doors on the cupboard an impractical blue. One of them had a white flower on it. A flower.
“It’s all different.”
She took a step towards him. “Well, yes, but it’s better this way.”
He frowned at her implication. “There was nothing wrong with it before. I thought you were just going to clean.”
The smile dropped from her face. “I didn’t mean it was wrong how you had it. I just meant...”
“I know what you meant.” His voice rose. “You meant it’s not good enough, just like I’m not good enough.”
She recoiled as if he’d struck her. “I never said that.”
“But you thought it. I know you had a fancy house back in New York with servants and money and everything, and all you’ve got now is this shack and me, the husband who can’t do anything right.” He didn’t know why he was getting angry. All he knew was that he wasn’t enough, and it was her fault.
She stared at him, her eyes glistening. “I... I didn’t think... I thought you’d... I didn’t mean to...” Pressing her hand to her mouth, she ran past him to the door, pulled it open, and fled outside.
He stared after her, his anger turning to shame. He’d expected her to shout at him, wave a skillet in his face, spell out all the reasons he was wrong. The last thing he’d expected was tears. He’d hurt her.
He ran to the door, but she was nowhere in sight and there was no answer when he called her name. And then he spotted Brutus trotting out of the yard and he knew where she’d gone.
He pulled the door closed, not wanting anything to spoil her hard work any more than he already had, and took off after Brutus. A minute later he reached the stream and came to a halt.
Grace sat on a rock beside the bubbling water, her hands pressed over her face and her shoulders trembling. Seeing her in pain and knowing he was the cause was like a punch to the gut.
Brutus ambled up to the rock, sat in front of her, and rested his head on her lap. She lowered her hands to look down at him and stroked his head.
Gabriel approached slowly, afraid she would run from him again. A few feet away, he came to a halt.
“Grace?”
Brutus lifted his head from her lap, threw him an accusatory look, and lowered to the ground at her feet.
Grace looked up at him, her face wet with tears. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m an idiot.” He dropped to his knees beside her and grasped her hand. Forming it into a fist, he placed it against his cheek. “Punch me. Do it. Right here. Just do it.”
He wasn’t joking. He’d take all the pain in the world to stop her tears.
She dropped her hand into her lap. “I’m not going to punch you.”
“Then shout at me. Scream at me. Curse at me. Push me in the stream. Please, do something.”
She gazed at him with shimmering eyes. “You hate what I’ve done in the house.”
“No! I don’t, I swear. I was just surprised and I didn’t show it very well. I thought it meant you didn’t like how it was before.” Sitting back on his heels, he ran one hand over his hair. “I’m no good at all this, at being married. It’s always been just me, on my own, since I was seventeen. I’ve never had to think about someone else’s feelings before. I keep getting it wrong.”
He dropped his gaze before she saw his eyes burning. Fear he’d been holding deep down inside that she would leave him, that somehow he would push her away, bubbled to the surface.
He wanted to beg her to stay, but the words wouldn’t come. The thought of Grace leaving wrenched his heart with so much pain he could think he was dying, if he didn’t know better. Why was he so stupid? Why didn’t he think before he reacted?
“I don’t think I’m any good at this either.” Her voice was soft, uncertain, and he risked looking up to see her staring at the water. “I ran my father’s house. I never had any brothers or sisters to consider. I’m used to doing things my own way. I never thought that you might not want me to change your home.” She wiped one hand across her eyes. “The truth is I’m scared.”
His chest constricted. “Of me?”
“No. Well maybe a little, but not that you’ll hurt me. I’m scared that I’ll be a disappointment. I can’t be something I’m not, but I’m scared you won’t like who I am.”
She still wasn’t looking at him. He had the strongest urge to wrap his arms around her, not for a kiss or to assuage his own desires, but simply to comfort her. For possibly the first time in his adult life, he wanted to hold a woman for her benefit instead of his. It felt strange and alien, and yet somehow right. Grace’s feelings mattered to him, even more than his own.
Could this be love? Was he in love?
Tentatively, he touched the back of her hand where it rested in her lap. “I like who you are a lot.”
His heart thudded against his ribs at his admission. Just those few words made him feel uncomfortably vulnerable.
She moved her eyes to her hand, slowly turning it over and wrapping her fingers around his. His breath hitched at the contact.
Then she looked into his eyes and smiled a little. “I like who you are too.”
He couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d grown wings and flown away. “You do?”
“Very much.”
“So... so you won’t leave?”
Her smile vanished. “Leave? Why would I leave? You’re my husband. I don’t want to leave you.”
He hadn’t realized just how afraid he was until the weight left his shoulders at her words. She wasn’t going to leave him.
She was still holding onto his hand. Slowly, he rose up onto his knees and shuffled forward until his thighs touched the rock and their faces were only inches apart. She raised her free hand to touch his face, just softly, as if she was unsure what she was doing was right, but the feather-light touch sent tingles of sensation zinging through his cheek. He placed his hand over hers, turned his head, and pressed a gentle kiss into her palm.
At the sound of her gasp he drew back, worried he’d been too forward, but the look in her eyes wasn’t one of fear. Instead, she seemed pleased. Was she pleased? And then the corners of her mouth turned up a little and she leaned forward a little and all his doubts vanished as he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers.
Her body tensed for a moment then softened as she leaned into the kiss with a sigh. It was all he could do to not wrap his arms around her and pull her closer. He had no idea what he was doing around her. All he knew was, despite it being the most chaste kiss he’d experienced in his entire adult life, it was by far the best.
When their lips parted she smiled slightly, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink, and looked down. His heart thumpe
d in his chest, his lips tingling from her touch. This was better than all the women he’d bedded just because he could, all the soiled doves who would do anything for a few dollars. This wasn’t just physical; he felt this inside. It made him warm and dizzy and so, so happy. He couldn’t remember ever feeling such happiness. This had to be love.
Of all the ways his marriage could have gone, he’d never anticipated falling in love. He liked it.
He brought the hand he was still holding to his lips and kissed the back. She raised her gaze and smiled.
“I’m...” He wanted to say something, to tell her how he felt, but the words wouldn’t come. It was all so new to him. So instead he said, “I’m real glad you’re my wife.”
Her smile grew. “I’m glad too.”
Just those three words made him want to shout for joy. Love was strange. But good.
Grinning, he stood, her hand still in his. He wondered if there was any practical way he could keep hold of it for the rest of his life.
“Come and show me what you’ve done in the house, please? I want to see everything.”
She rose to her feet. “Are you sure?”
“Very, very sure.”
Her smile ignited such a warmth in his chest that he wouldn’t have been surprised to see himself glowing.
They started back towards the house, Brutus sauntering after them.
“You can change anything you want,” she said. “It can all go back like it was.”
“I won’t want to change a single thing.”
He meant it, with his whole heart. She could do whatever she wanted to his home. Their home. All he wanted was this wonderful woman by his side for the rest of his life.
He was pretty sure he’d be able to secure another kiss when they got back there too.
Chapter 17
Without his judgment being clouded by his earlier, unthinking reaction to what she’d done in the house, Gabriel had to admit to both himself and Grace that his house was indeed better that way. Although, since he also managed to snag several more kisses as she pointed out all her improvements, he would probably have happily accepted just about anything she did.
After she’d finished showing him around, she loaded her pocket with a few of the cookies she’d baked that morning, took a towel, and headed back to the stream, taking Gabriel, Brutus, and R.B. with her. Well, she took Brutus and R.B. Gabriel just followed. The way he was feeling, he was ready to follow her anywhere. But she slipped her hand into his for the walk, so he was pretty sure she didn’t mind.
Once at the stream, he finally asked her the question he’d been wanting the answer to since the previous day. “So what are you going to do?”
She reached up to kiss his cheek, let go of his hand, and indicated Brutus where he was lapping at the cool water of the stream. “I’m going to teach him to not shake in the house.”
He caught hold of her hand again as she moved to go and spun her back to him. “There’s one thing needs doing before you get started,” he said, drawing her close
She slid her arms around his neck, a smile dancing in her eyes. “Oh? And what’s that?”
His answer was to dip his head and capture her lips in a deep kiss, his heart thrilling at the way she melted into him and pushed up onto her toes to get closer. When she finally, disappointingly, pulled away, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. What had he done to deserve a woman like Grace? He couldn’t think of a single thing.
When he tried to tug her back to him, she shook her head, smiling, and backed away. “Brutus and I have work to do.”
He heaved a sigh. “Sometimes I think you like the dog more than me.”
“Oh, I did, at first.”
Smiling, he caught hold of her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss the back. He couldn’t seem to get enough of the feel of her skin against his lips. “I’ll try not to be jealous. Although I admit I was, at first.”
Laughing, she walked to the stream where Brutus was nosing around a tuft of grass and cornflowers.
Gabriel got comfortable at the base of an ancient, gnarled oak, stretched his legs out so R.B. could jump onto his lap, and settled in to watch his wife. His beautiful, incredible wife.
She called Brutus over to her and ruffled his head. He wagged his tail, his eyes darting to her pocket where he could no doubt smell the cookies.
“Now I’m going to teach you something important, so I’m going to need you to concentrate. I know you’re a very smart dog and I’m sure you’ll have no trouble picking this up. And there’ll be lots of treats if you do.” His eyes followed her hand with interest as she patted her pocket.
She bent to pick up a thick stick from the ground by her feet. “Look Brutus!” Her tone laced with enthusiasm, she waved the stick.
He bounced in excitement, tail wagging furiously, and bounded into the stream when she tossed the stick into the water. He returned with the piece of wood, dropped it at her feet, and shook out his drenched hair.
Gabriel winced, waiting for Grace to cringe in disgust as she was covered in a shower of water. But she simply waited for the shaking to stop, picked up the stick, and threw it again.
He watched, intrigued, as Brutus dashed into the stream again.
This time when he brought the stick back and prepared to shake, Grace made a sharp uh, uh, uh sound that startled both him and Gabriel.
Brutus stared up at her in surprise.
She said, “Good boy,” and placed the towel she’d brought gently over his back, holding it there.
Brutus regarded her in confusion, but when she didn’t move he gave in to the urge to shake and cover her in water again. When he was done, she removed the towel, told him he was a good boy again, and gave him a piece of cookie from her pocket.
The next time he returned from the stream she again distracted him as he was about to shake, this time placing the towel on his neck. The third time, it was on top of his head. Each time, Brutus shook into the towel, received his bit of cookie, and got the stick thrown for him again.
The eighth time through the routine, something extraordinary happened. He emerged from the stream, dropped the stick, and waited, without Grace making any sound at all. Smiling, she wrapped the towel around his head and he shook. His behavior earned him an extra large piece of cookie and lots of praise.
She did the same thing a few more times until he was waiting every time. Finally, she gave him an entire cookie and walked over to sit beside Gabriel.
Sensing that no more cookies would be forthcoming, Brutus flopped down in the grass and began to gnaw on the stick. R.B. opened his eyes, stretched with a yawn, and jumped down from Gabriel’s lap to join him.
Gabriel’s eyes strayed to where Grace’s soaked dress clung enticingly to her legs. “You’re wet.”
She straightened her dress out, to his disappointment. “I certainly am, and it’s worth every drop of water. Did you see him? He wasn’t even trying to shake before I put the towel around him anymore.”
“I saw. That was real clever, what you did.”
“I’m hoping he’ll remember and wait for me to wrap the towel around his head every time he gets the urge to shake in the house, so his drool doesn’t go everywhere. I thought I could sew a bed for him too so I can wash it, say, once a week.”
A rush of pride came over him. “You’re quite a woman.”
Smiling, she gazed fondly at Brutus. “I just taught him something new. He’s a smart dog.”
“You’re a smart woman.” He leaned his mouth in closer to her ear and whispered, “I would hug you, if you weren’t so wet.”
She gasped, her hand going to her chest. “Gabriel Silversmith, I never pegged you for a man who would let something like a little water frighten him off.”
He stifled his laughter and pulled at her skirt with his forefinger and thumb, releasing it to flop back to her thigh with a soft splat. “That’s more than a little water. You’re downright soggy.”
“Soggy?!”
&nbs
p; “Yup. Soggy.”
“I’ll show you soggy.” Rising up onto her knees, she pushed him down onto his back in the grass and climbed on top of him, bracing her arms either side of his shoulders.
The water oozed from her soaked dress into his shirt and trousers. He didn’t care in the slightest.
She smiled down at him. “Now we’re both soggy.”
“Are we?” His soul soaring, he wrapped one arm around her waist, ran his knuckles down her cheek, and before he knew what was happening, blurted, “I love you.”
She gasped in a breath, her expression as shocked as he felt.
He hadn’t meant to say it. It was as if the words had a life of their own. But now they were out there, all he could do was wait for her response to his confession, heart hammering in his chest.
After what seemed like an age but was probably only a few seconds, she whispered, “I... I love you too.”
His entire world rocked sideways, as if everything changed with those four small words. He would never have believed it if someone had told him how he would feel right then. He might even have got angry at the idea that he could belong so completely to another person. But from that moment, the moment she told him she loved him, he knew that the rest of his life would be devoted to her. And he didn’t want it any other way.
Pulling her against him, he rolled her onto her back and braced himself above her, gazing into her beautiful blue eyes. She brushed her fingertips across his cheek and into his hair, her eyes going to his mouth.
And he whispered her name as he pressed his lips to hers.
It was a kiss filled with passion and love. A kiss that sealed their destiny together as husband and wife. A kiss like nothing he’d ever experienced before, fiery and profound.
A kiss that was over exactly eight seconds after it began when Gabriel was forcefully levered away from his wife by a large, brown, furry head inserting between them.
Brutus flopped into the grass and rested his head on Grace’s stomach, raising his eyes to Gabriel as if daring him to try to move him away.
She dropped her head back on the grass and burst into laughter.
