“No, it's just...” Grey had always brought some kind of takeout. Him buying groceries and cooking us a meal, even a simple one, felt so much more fatherly. Homey. Like he was a real part of our small, strange family. I shook my head. “Never mind. Thanks for dinner.”
Maple got almost as much food in her mouth as on her face, which I hailed as a success. After we were done eating, I gave Maple her bath, dressed her in her favorite lamb jammies, and tucked her into bed with her stuffed owl. I came out of her nursery to find all the dishes washed and Greyson sitting on the couch...with two glasses of Merlot on the coffee table.
Was he hoping for this to become a new routine? I should have just kicked him out like usual. If I'd been quicker on the draw. If I hadn't been so grateful for the unexpected holiday. If he weren't so goddamn handsome. If last night's kisses hadn't seared right through me.
Instead, I sat down next to him and took a sip of wine. Who knows? Maybe my body understood what was right for me, even if I hadn't realized it yet.
“So how was Hickory Lake?” I asked.
He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “It was fun. I taught her to cast, and she sat right next to me and pretended to fish. We were there until about noon.”
“She actually sat still for that long? No way.” I enjoyed the mental image of them perched side-by-side on the shore, like a pair of old men.
“Of course not. She was very busy...wanted to look at all the frogs and weeds and everybody else's catches. I hardly had a moment to catch anything myself.”
I smiled, a tender warmth welling up inside me. Fishing wasn't really my thing, but Grey painted such an idyllic picture that I almost wished I'd come along with them.
As if Grey had read my mind, he looked straight into my eyes. “I've never seen you smile like that,” he murmured.
My mind went blank. The moment held its breath as I tried to come up with a reply. But I couldn't think with Grey's gaze on me. Just sitting next to this man made me feel loose and floaty, like I was drunk after barely half a glass. But I knew it wasn't the wine that had done this to me. I had tasted Grey last night—and I wanted more.
Was it him or me who edged closer? Who had made the first move? Everything was such a blur. Without my realizing it, we had been poised like magnets on a table, just distant enough to stay apart. At the slightest nudge—his hand brushing mine, my tongue poking out to wet my lips—we flew to slam together.
Our mouths devoured each other. His arms enveloped me, one hand tangled in my hair, the other tight around my waist, already pushing up my shirt. Need flared down my spine. I wanted Grey to rip my clothes off and fuck me hard, right there on the sofa. My desire ached so intensely it almost scared me. I clutched at him, feeling his strong muscles, the amazing body that was so close to giving me what I craved. My eyes fluttered with anticipation...
And I glimpsed the photo of Marcus, so handsome in his SEAL dress blues, that hung on the living room wall. Watching everything.
My late husband's disappointed stare washed ice straight down my veins, cooling any heat I felt. I shoved Grey away, panicked, disgusted with myself, hot shame burning through me.
“Finley?” He looked confused. And just as rock-hard as before.
I tore my eyes away from the huge bulge in his jeans. “Y-you should go.”
He blinked, forehead creased. “Why? What's wrong?”
“It's just...it's best if you go.” Please, I added silently. Before my willpower runs out.
He gave me a long, careful look, but I kept my eyes trained on the floor. “All right,” he finally said.
I didn't get up as he put on his coat and shoes. He could see his own infuriatingly tight ass to the door. The last thing I wanted—oh God, the only thing I wanted—was a repeat of last night.
But he paused with his hand on the doorknob and I tried not to growl with frustration. “Would it be okay if I come see Maple this Saturday? I know it's not our usual thing, but I saw something on TV about a special aquarium show, and she loved the fish today, so—”
“No,” I said more sharply than I meant to. “She'll be in Florida all weekend. My in-laws are coming to get her.” Some ugly voice inside me, something I didn't like at all, prompted me to add, “She’ll be visiting Marcus's family.”
I instantly regretted emphasizing that detail. It was cruel and totally unnecessary. But Grey only nodded, his expression unruffled, as if I hadn't just tried to cut his heart out. “Sure thing,” he said. “Maybe next weekend.”
Grey shut the front door quietly to avoid waking Maple. I buried my face in the couch's threadbare pillow, unable to meet Marcus's somber eyes. Grey's touch still burned under my skin.
Chapter Seven
Greyson