Seeking Me To Find You (Finding You Series Book 1) (12 page)

As I was rushing around trying to find a pair of sheers, Thor and Ben were on my heels.

“Where’s the fire, man?”

“I need to find the sheers Larry left for the bushes,” I say in a panic.

“Dude, they’re on the work table out back.”

I fling open the patio doors and snatch the sheers off the table. Gently I extract a single full-bloomed rose and hand it over to Ben.

“I love you and all but, hell man, I don’t swing that way,” Asshat said sweetly.

Sprinting up the stairs, taking two at a time, I yell back, “Just put it in water until I can get a quick shower.”

Bringing my attention back to this radiant spirit enveloped in a cloud of white, I hand this delicate gift over while placing a nimble kiss upon her cheek. Her skin is flushed and her eyes are filled with disbelief.

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to have dinner with me tonight,” I say as I lean casually again the door frame.

“Jackson, you’ve been so sweet and kind, why don’t I fix us something. We can continue to get better acquainted with one another. It just happens that a domineering Marine took it upon himself to buy out an entire store full of groceries for me.” She smiles, hands are propped upon her curvaceous hips.

Leaning down, while catching her at eye level, I whisper, “Sweetheart, you don’t know how domineering this Marine can be.”

The “Oh Shit” look she gives me tells me that I have the same effect on her as she has on me.
Lord, how have I allowed this angel take a hold of me?

Opening her door further, she welcomes me into her home…again.

“I was just getting out of the shower. Make yourself at home and give me about fifteen minutes to finish getting ready.”

“Since I invited myself, it would be my honor to make dinner for you.”

As she climbs the stairs, she turns around and asks, “Are you always this chivalrous?”

“Not normally. It’s not every day that I meet someone that takes my breath away.”

Stopping she turns back. “Why don’t you go and get Thor. He has to be extremely lonely since you’ve been out gallivanting today. I have an extra set of house keys by the door. Take them so you can let yourself back in.”

Did she just wink at me?

As she disappears up the stairs I dial Ben on my cell phone.

“What’s happening hot stuff? I feel so lonely when you’re not here to cuddle with me,” Ben laughs uncontrollable in my ear.

Ass!

“Can you walk Thor down to Grace’s for me?”

“What’s wrong with your strong, manly legs?” he says while still laughing his ass off.

“Don’t be an ass. Grace is upstairs getting ready and I want to surprise her by making her dinner.”

“Dude, what are you doing? You don’t have the time to bother yourself with a cute piece of tail.”

“Fuck you, asshole! Are you going to bring the dog down or not?” I growl into the phone.

“I’m coming,” he snarks as he ends the call without a good-bye or kiss my ass.

I start mentally going over the groceries I had procured for her. Looking into the fridge I notice she has a bottle of white wine. When I was little my mom would make my dad’s favorite dish, Spaghetti Carbonara, when he would come home from a business trip. She always involved me and my sister in the process. She would say every boy should be able to cook so that he can help out and pamper his wife.

As I’m assembling all the ingredients I hear a knock on the door. I quickly open it, grab Thor’s leash and close it again. Just as soon as it’s shut there is another knock. When I open the door, Ben growls, “Pussy!” then slams it back in my face.

I settle Thor on the rug that leads out to the back patio.
I’ll be damned if he lounges on her couch like a gigolo.
I start a large pot of salted water and turn my attention back to frying up the bacon.

“I love a man that knows his way in the kitchen.” Grace walks up behind me and starts examining the ingredients I’ve set out.

“Mmm, Spaghetti a la Carbonara. I must say, for someone that looks as good as you, I would have never thought this rich dish would ever touch those lips.”

“You’re not a fan?” I say as I add the noodles to the water and then combine the eggs and cheese together.

Looking up, trying to choose her words carefully, she explains, “This is one of my favorites, but the last time I made this for someone I was reminded of how long I would need to run to work it off my hips.”

I turn and watch her walk over and sit on the floor with Thor. She has changed in to a simple white top with a pair of navy shorts which accent the lightly bronzed tone she received today by being out in the sun. She has loosely braided her hair into a style that falls over her left shoulder. As always, she wears next to no makeup, only accenting her eyes with a little mascara and filling her luscious lips with a sheer gloss. Seeing her down on my dog’s level, making sappy noises, I can’t imagine any idiot that would ever criticize her. Obviously she takes care of herself; it is also obvious that she’s not a cookie cutter, stick thin doll that only eats berries and grass. Her arms are delicately toned and her breasts are sweetly curved, leading to the most stunning hourglass figure I’ve ever seen. I turn back to putting the final touches on dinner when I notice her stroll over to the sink to wash her hands.

“You look beautiful.”

Quietly she says, “Thank you.”

Grace turns to a cabinet and takes out enough dishes for two place settings, then strides over to her hutch and pulls out a small vase which she fills with fresh water and my gift, the pink rose.

The air fills with the tune “Cry Me A River” by Justin Timberlake. She stomps over to her phone, quickly silences it and tosses it on the couch. She strolls back to the table and places the rose in the center with a look of betrayal and hurt.

“Grace, are you okay?”

She turns back to me with a look of confusion. “Perfect. Why do you ask?”

“When your phone rang your whole demeanor changed.”

“It’s nothing worth speaking of.”

The tension leaves her shoulders as she takes a deep, cleansing breath. I’m still a little curious however not wanting to tense the mood; I decide to drop it for now.

Picking up the pasta, I turn back to her. I can still see she is mulling over something. “Are you ready for the best chow in town?”

“A little cocky aren’t we?” As soon as she says it, a sexy blush sweeps across her beautiful face.

Wiggling my brows I respond, “Sweetheart, you have no idea. No idea at all.”

Grace sweetly laughs and brings the salad over to the table. Taking in the aroma she moans, “This smells amazing.”

I place the pasta on her delicately decorated table as she turns back to pour herself a glass of wine while retrieving the beer I left by the stove.
What a sweet ass.

Looking over her shoulder she asks, “Did you say something?”

“No. Nothing at all.”
Don’t tell me I said that out loud. I am loosing it.

Grace

T
he look on
Jackson’s face is priceless. By expression, I can tell he doesn’t know that he said that out loud. What he also doesn’t realize is that I’ve been staring at him from the moment I first met him, especially right now. I’ve never seen a man that I could truly call beautiful until him. His eyes have flecks of copper that are enhanced by what he is wearing, or just by his changing moods. His lashes would be envied by any supermodel; they are long and thick while, slightly curling at the ends. His lips are not thin, but not too full. They are just perfect when they are trailing a line up my neck. His jaw is strong and square. And the rest of his body…Can you say perfect?

“Grace, the food is going to get cold.”

Snapping out of it, I head back to the table with our drinks. Before I know it, he pulls out my chair and guides me to sit at the table. He reaches down and places a small kiss on my cheek which sends an electric pulse through my body. Again, my phone plays that damn J.T. song. I wish Evan would stop flippin’ calling me. For the past week that’s all he’s done. The first time he wanted, in his words, to make sure I was not dead because I seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth. He said the housekeeper at Nate’s would not allow him to come through the gates and was silent on my information. I forgot to tell Nate that he needs to give her a raise.

“Do you need to get that?”

I can tell Jackson is a little curious on why I dismiss the call for the second time. It would be easy just to silence the damn thing, but if Nate calls and I don’t answer, all hell could break loose.

Turning my full attention back to the sexy man that sits before me, I respond, “Again, it’s no one important. Let’s eat.”

As I take the first bite my taste buds explode. The rich, velvety sauce invades my senses so completely I accidently let out a moan of pleasure.

“So, I take it that it meets your standards.”

Wiping my mouth, I decide to take another quick bite before answering him. “Oh my gah, it exceeds them and more. Are you a cook in the Marines?”

The look on his face is priceless. “Sweetheart, do I look like a cook?”

Giggling behind my napkin, I start to choke. Leave it to me to die in front of this gorgeous man. Maybe at least I can get a little mouth to mouth action again.

Jackson immediately crouches down with a glass of water. I’m so embarrassed. Through watery eyes I can see extreme concern on his face. I take a sip of water and with a hoarse voice thank him. Taking another sip, I try to catch my breath. Jackson is still at my side, apprehensive about leaving me. “If you’re not a cook, you must be someone that rescues people.”

Jackson stands up and walks back to take his seat. “I’m a 0326.”

“English, please,” I say, still trying to catch my breath.

“Well, technically I am a drill instructor at this moment, but in the fleet my job is within the infantry field.”

“Really? My stepfather was in the infantry field and I know that could mean different things. You can be assigned to different units.”

“Yeah, well it keeps life entertaining.”

By his sharp quip I get the feeling I’m not going to get much more. Turning his attention back to dinner, he starts rapidly firing questions back to me.

“So you’re a military brat? Are you an only child? Did you grow up on base? Which bases where you guys stationed at? Stepfather? What about your father?”

Trying to contain the spaghetti trying to escape my fork, I say, “Whoa there Mr. Interrogator. Don’t get out the water board too quickly.” I place my fork on my plate and gently wipe the corners of my mouth. “Brat? Do I look like a brat? Only child? Selfish and Proud! Did we live on base? Yes, Lejeune. He deployed all the time so we would have a little more stability. Stepfather? Yes. But he is the one that has earned the title of dad. He was always there when I needed him. Father? It’s complicated, and we’re working on it.”

I can tell from the way he peers at me he is intrigued. Not wanting to get into my daddy issue I change the subject.

“Tell me about your sweet, adorable, furry son, Thor.”

Laughing to himself, “Now he’s a brat. Thor is three years old which is twenty-eight in human years. He acts more like a petulant toddler, throwing tantrums when he doesn’t get his way. Like the day I first met you when he laid down in front of your door and wouldn’t move. That was his way of telling me ‘Give it up dude. I’m going to enjoy this beautiful woman that will rub my belly and feed me cheese like the prince that I am.”

“Well, you sound like you’re annoyed that your dear Prince Thor brought you upon my path.”

Jackson’s face falls a little before he shyly smiles and meets my eyes. “Please don’t ever think that. This time Thor pleasantly surprised me with a sweet gift. Thank goodness this time it was a gorgeous blonde instead of a baby possum.”

My body betrays me and that damn blush climbs up my neck to where I can feel it at the tips of my ears. Talking with him is so easy. I tell him about how I’ll start teaching at a local private girls’ school this fall and that I’m an assistant Cross Country coach at the same school, which helps me know the girls and their parents on a different level. Jackson turns the conversation and asks me my favorite ice cream which, of course, is chocolate peanut butter. He smiles and informs me that his favorite ice cream is rainbow sherbet. We get into a little debate when I tell him that sherbet is not ice cream. I inform him that in the US, sherbet is mostly fruit juice based and can only contain between two and five percent of dairy or eggs. I also explain to him that good quality ice creams are way beyond the five percent dairy requirement and cannot be compared to sherbet.

“Show off,” he says as he smiles and takes another bite.

Speaking with him comes naturally and is rather soothing. When we finish our scrumptious pasta I ask him about dessert. He pulls back from the table and stalks over to the freezer. What does he pull out? Rainbow Sherbet! I start to clear the table and find that he’s comfortable maneuvering in my kitchen. He brings down two bowls and leads me out to the back patio.

“Come on Thor,” he commands as he juggles the bowls and the sherbet. Thor lazily gets up and stretches in a downward facing dog pose. Following Jackson out, Thor takes refuge at my feet when I take my seat.

*