Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“Don’t put the kids on the spot, love,” he says. “Come to think of it, we could use a little getaway. Maybe drive out to the coast, that little B&B you love so much—the one with the beach that always has a ton of shells?”
“Yes,” Grant growls. “Go. Get out. Y’all are on my last nerve.”
Margaret thins her lips. “Son, if you think you’re too big for a spanking, you’ll find out very fast that your mother can still take you over her knee.”
“I think I’d kill to see that!” I mutter dryly, smiling myself back into composure—right before a fresh shiver hits me. “Oof, that wind... I’d better get inside before I catch cold. I’ve been in Florida too long. Didn’t come ready for October in North Carolina.”
“Grant,” Margaret says sharply.
“What, Ma?” Grant groans, rolling his eyes, which makes Nell giggle as she bends over him to meet his gaze.
“Either give Ophelia one of your nice coats or you take her shopping for one immediately,” she orders. “Don’t let her buy a cheap one, either. I won’t have her out here freezing in this house.”
“Thanks, but I can shop for my own—”
Margaret charges on like she doesn’t even hear me. “Promise me, Grant.”
The big lunk looks at the ground and sweeps his foot over it.
“Yeah, yeah, I promise. Now, will you quit harassing us and go plan your trip?”
Mrs. Faircross laughs.
“I’m your mother. It’s my job to harass you.”
I stifle a laugh behind my hand, whispering, “Some things never change.”
Grant shoots me a dirty look.
“Somehow, he never did learn enough manners. Lord knows I tried.” Margaret leans into her husband, offering me a sweet smile. “We’ll leave you be to settle in. But don’t be a stranger, darling. I’ve missed your face around here.”
It takes a few more parting hugs and admonishments at Grant before the Faircrosses actually leave.
Even though his shoulders are full with Nell, he insists on taking my bag and carrying it in, dragging my suitcase in one hand with Nell’s tiny bright-pink backpack dangling from his broad shoulder.
As we mount the steps to the front porch, I glance back at the last hint of taillights on the Faircrosses’ car.
“They haven’t slowed down a bit, have they?”
“They’re guaranteed to be goddamned terrors until they’re ninety, I’m sure,” he grumps, unlocking the door to let me in.
I just hold my smile.
Even when he’s snarling, it’s not hard to tell he complains with so much love.
Inside, Grant swings Nell down and tosses her backpack on the sofa.
“Go wash up, Nelly,” he says. “You can have a couple cookies and a juice for a snack, then I want you buckling down and hitting the books.”
“With Adventure Time?” She pouts up at him. “It always makes homework go faster...”
“Not till I’m done so I can turn it off if it gets too weird. You’re not old enough for some of the shit on that show.” He ruffles her hair. “Now scoot, kiddo.”
Nell just beams, flashing me a double-handed wave and she whispers, “Welcome home, Miss Philia!”
Oh, boy.
I want to sputter out that this isn’t home, but that little wild child’s already taking off up the stairs.
I’m just imagining that redness above Grant’s beard as he shakes his head, I’m sure.
He turns to lead me upstairs at a slower adult pace.
“C’mon. I’ll show you to the guest room up here.”
I don’t really know what to say as I follow him up, admiring this cozy little cottage house with its soft slate-blue walls and earthy wood tones everywhere.
Until now, it hasn’t really sunken in that we’ll be living together.
Not just seeing him out on patrols or bumping into him at the grocery store.
No, waking up to him every morning.
Seeing him sleep-rumpled and drowsy or relaxing at the end of a hard day.
Falling asleep at night knowing he’s just down the hall, that long, powerful body stretched out in his bed, a great beast at rest.
Wondering, when I shouldn’t, if he ever finds time to relieve his stress with other women. I’ve kept my ears perked up for any rumors, but so far, I’ve heard nothing.
And if he doesn’t date, if he doesn’t even sneak in a casual one-night stand every so often, what does he do to release that snapping tension that makes Grant so... well, Grant?
Does he just use whatever’s in his head on those long, lonely nights? Does he ever get so riled that big hand wanders lower, and what does he think about when he—
“Butterfly, you coming?” He’s looking at me intently when my head snaps up.
That shouldn’t make my heart thud so hard.
I’m standing frozen at the base of the stairs, caught in thoughts I definitely shouldn’t be having.
I mean, it’s not like Grant didn’t sleep over all the time back when he and Ethan were teenagers. But it made my heart beat like a rock ballad then, too, didn’t it?