Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
“For as long as she wants me,” he returned.
She had the nerve to roll her eyes and scoff low.
Malachi didn’t take it personally.
Much.
“What?” he asked, the chuckled question making Delaney glance up sharply. “Just say whatever you want to tell me and get it over with. You were here first. I better not change things. Those come to mind. Anything else?”
She tried to hide the smirk.
It didn’t work.
“I guess I don’t have to, huh?” Delaney asked. Despite her friendly expression, he saw a vulnerability there, too.
Malachi rolled his shoulders and shook his head. “If you think I came into this thing with Gracen blind, guess again.”
Her bond with Delaney couldn’t be matched or destroyed by some outside force. The two had been riding side by side for a long time, and it wasn’t about dependence. Their friendship was built on a lot more. He wasn’t here to get in between any of that.
Delaney turned and handed over the cat without an explanation. “All in all,” she said to him, “I think I’m gonna like you.”
Malachi grinned. “Oh?”
She nodded. “Eventually.”
That earned her a good laugh, too.
Gracen found Malachi still in the kitchen, sneaking bites of finger foods set out on a packable table Delaney had brought from storage at the salon. She snuck in beside him in the corner, bending down to whisper sweet nothings to Mister Kitty who meowed back at every other word.
Standing straight, she bumped his hip with hers. “You’re awfully quiet in here.”
“I don’t really know anybody.”
Only a handful of faces were familiar, and that wasn’t very much.
“Don’t worry about me,” he told Gracen who watched him with unhidden sympathy. “I’m looking after Mister Kitty.”
The news had her smiling wide. “Good.”
“Kiss me?”
She did, soft and sweet.
The plushness of her mouth stayed steady against his, like her smile, until a whoop from someone in the next room broke the two apart.
“You sure you don’t want to just wander about with me?” she asked, her cheeks a little pink. “I promise not to let anyone ask too many questions.”
That wasn’t even the problem. Eventually, he’d get more comfortable around strangers who were already her friends. That just took a little extra time for Malachi.
Malachi winked. “I’m fine, really.”
He enjoyed watching more. To see her mingle with people she called family and friends in a space that was proudly her own—by her making and doing, no one else’s—was a moment she deserved. It made him appreciate the love for her constantly swelling in his chest even more.
“Is there anything you’d like me to do?” he asked.
Gracen’s eyes brightened. “Well, there is one thing.”
“Ask me anything.”
He’d do it for her.
She clasped her fingers together under her chin, saying, “Mimi really wanted a moment upstairs.”
Ah.
That was an easy answer, too.
“Right now?”
Gracen nodded.
Malachi held the now-squirming kitten out for her to take. “Let’s do it.”
*
He helped by carrying Mimi up the stairs while the guests down below found a genre of music they could all agree on. A popular country-pop crossover that was way overplayed on the radio, but it was catchy and upbeat.
Gracen brought Mimi’s wheelchair up behind them, and then pushed her grandmother down the hall. The second she was inside the bedroom and the bed, made up with sheets, duvet, and the many sham pillows Gracen usually just threw on the floor at night, came into view, the change in the air became palpable. Much like the moments when the woman had first arrived—a late day away from the care home facilitated by Gracen and the staff, but aided by a support worker who would travel Mimi back and forth.
First, the sight of the house took her by surprise. Then, every room on the inside had the woman tracing woodgrains and beveled edges that took her back to another time.
Malachi almost turned around to leave the bedroom, but a quick flash of a smile from Gracen kept him standing in the doorway with his hands tossed into his pockets.
“It’s been a long time, right?” Gracen asked her grandmother who had turned noticeably silent as they neared the bed. Once close enough, Mimi reached out to clasp the footboard, and then she ran her palm along the smooth wood’s edge. “Do you want to sit on it for—”
“N-no, n-no,” Mimi stuttered, but the conviction was clear. The old woman peered back at Malachi with a smile pulling at the edge of her wrinkled mouth, but Gracen didn’t notice. She turned back to her granddaughter, saying, “It’s your bed, n-now.”
Malachi did have to look away at that statement. He didn’t want either of the women to notice the way his gaze tried to shift to the mattress, remembering the night before and how he could still hear Gracen’s breathy moans as she worked on him so hard for that third, and then the forth, orgasm. If he tried, he could taste her sex on his tongue, all tart and hot. Every one of her kisses on his sweat-slicked skin might as well be tattooed there forever.