The Mind (The Reluctant Romantics #1.5) (12 page)

BOOK: The Mind (The Reluctant Romantics #1.5)
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A minute later, he spoke up again. “I shouldn’t have proposed like that.”

“No way, you don’t get a do-over. It was perfect, leave it alone. I mean it, Grant. I don’t need anything fancy.”

“Will you at least let me put a ring on your finger?”

“Absolutely, but we don’t have to worry about that right now.”

“How did I get so lucky?” He stroked my cheek, wiping away tears I didn’t know I was shedding.

I turned to him, saying my next words with absolute certainty. “It wasn’t luck. It was lightning.” I held him to me as he mourned his father. We cried together until we found a more peaceful sleep.

****

Grant walked me through his childhood home, telling me everything. We spent our days packing his father’s house and loading my SUV and his truck with priceless possessions he didn’t want in the estate sale.

We spread his ashes at a gorge they often visited together throughout Grant’s life. It was a small ceremony and only a few attended. Grant held it together until that night and when he finally broke, I broke with him.

The night before the estate sale, I packed my car to get back to school. I had missed an additional few days for Grant. I made apology after apology but Grant seemed to fully understand and had no reservations, sending me off with a kiss.

“I love you, Mrs. Foster.”

“I love you.”

You know what?” he said as I threw my purse in the passenger seat.

“What?”

“We haven’t even consummated our engagement.” He leaned in closer, stealing my lips, his tongue whispering through them.

“I don’t think that’s a real thing, Grant,” I said with a chuckle. “Matter of fact, I think it’s noted somewhere in the book of morals that we not consummate our engagement.”

“Unless you have that page in your hand, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disagree by initiating the act.”

I chuckled, seeing him smile for the first time in days. “You’ve been busy, Grant.”

“No, babe.” He grabbed my hand and shut my door, pulling me back into the house.

“Grant, I have to go. Really, I can’t stay,” I said halfheartedly, wanting him just as much.

“Rose, I have to be inside you...right now.” He scooped me up in his arms and took me into his bedroom. He took my clothes off piece by piece and covered every inch of my body with his kisses.

“Grant,” I moaned breathlessly, all too eager for him.

“I have to make you come, baby. I live for it, is that wrong? I just want to make you come, call my name, shake while I’m inside you. I want to feel you hot and wet around me and erase the world. I’m so addicted to you, to this.” He dipped his head down then licked me until I came, sighing his name. He climbed on top of me, his eyes deep pools of blue, so full of emotion, and of love for me. The slow descent of his head and his deep kiss were my undoing. His mouth drew everything from mine as my chest pounded in anticipation of his touch. He entered me slowly, inch by sweet inch, and I watched him shudder in satisfaction. His strokes were long and filled me to the brink, not an inch of me missed. The movement of his hips fueled the slow haze we were both drawn under and I clenched around him, completely gone. He stopped suddenly, still wracked with emotion and pulled me close to him, burying his head in my chest. I turned him on his back and pulled myself on top of him.

“I will do whatever you want, Grant. What do you want?” I was completely intoxicated by him and wanted to soothe his heartache.

“You, just you,” he whispered over and over as he started moving again, pulling my hips down to meet his length. The world could set fire and neither of us would care when we were connected like that. The intensity we felt, our hearts and minds totally in sync, the feeling could never be matched. I called out, shuddering against him as he took his time filling me up, leaving me full, gasping, and complementing my name with his hoarse voice.

Once sated and dressed, he walked me back to my car and held me to him tightly. It had been an emotional couple of days and I felt the urge to reassure him one more time.

“Whatever you want. I’m yours Grant, always. I love you,” I whispered to him before I slipped into my SUV. I dared not look back in the rearview for fear I might fall apart. I’d left him alone to deal with his father’s estate, but a part of me knew it would only get him back to me sooner.

God gave us all the gift of intuition. If you aren’t careful, it’s easy to miss or ignore. I’ve always been really careful to listen to my gut. Like the time Tommy Andrews threw that curve ball and I was sure of it and cracked that bastard out of the park. Or the time I avoided that bear trap on my first hunting trip with my father. I didn’t have to see it to know it was there. Then there was the time I was a couple hundred dollars short of having enough money for my father’s meds and bought my first scratch-off ticket. Sometimes the gut knows before the mind has a chance to catch up. Tonight I spent a good amount of time thanking my intuition.

She was my match, my heart, my soul, my future, and not just because she was beautiful, and not because she was smart or funny and she got my jokes. It was not because of the incredible sex we had either, or the way she looked at me, even though all these things contributed. It was the way I felt when I was with her. She had this effect on me like no one else ever had. I could climb and move mountains. I was stronger, braver, and I felt more like me, the me that I was before the world’s shit beat me down. I’d gladly take the scars I’d been given just to be able to appreciate the gift of knowing myself again through her. She did that for me.

She floats right in front of me now. She floats.

She floated around our engagement party, a woman with the same conviction that we are both part of a bigger picture, a picture we are about to paint together. I saw the love in her eyes for those around her and for me. I was sure I couldn’t feel more full, happy, content, whatever you wanted to call it. It weakened me and made me stronger at the same time.

I looked around the people admiring our connection, clinking glasses in celebration for us. I could feel their excitement for her, for me, for who we were together. They knew it, too.

****

“What are you doing?” she asked as I pull out my hunting knife.

“Marking our tree, babe,” I said as I dug my blade into the rough bark and cleared the way for our initials. We’d opted to come to the land at sunset after our engagement party rather than go back to her apartment. It was our place and I knew when Rose suggested it that she wanted to be here as much as I did.

“I don’t have a suture kit out here,” she said in warning.

“You aren’t the only Foster good with a knife,” I mused as she sat beneath me and inched away from the falling bark. I looked down at her reaction and saw her smile at the thought of her new last name.

“There’s something about this place,” she said in a whisper. “I can’t explain it.”

I smiled as I began to carve on the freshly uncovered wood.

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s like...it’s exactly what I wanted. I just didn’t know it.” My grin spread as I pressed my knife in deeper with each word she spoke.

“I love when your dimple pops out. It’s only when you smile like that.”

“Hush, woman, I’m trying to do a manly thing here,” I scolded as I glanced down at her. She sat in the grass, not giving a damn about ruining what I was sure was an expensive dress. She looked at the pond behind me in a slight daze.

“So peaceful, it’s like a dream.”

“I think I dreamed you into my life,” I said, staring down at her perfect features. I was sure I’d never seen anything more beautiful as the fading sun glinted off her hair, making it a fiery red. She looked up at me with a look of stunned amazement as I sheathed my knife and threw it to the ground, lifting her to see my handiwork. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pulled her to me and whispered in her ear. “You cold?”

“No.”

I kissed her neck and felt her shiver, knowing the cause was me.

“Your parents are amazing.”

“Yeah, they are,” she agreed, offering more of her neck, which I accepted.

“I didn’t have to look hard to see what you were talking about. What they have is rare.” I felt her smile and grip me tighter to her.

“Want to go?”

“Not really,” she said, turning around in my arms to hold my face. I towered over her but she’d never seemed intimidated by my size, even in the early days when I’d freaked her out. I think she secretly loved it, though she’d never said it.

In that one minute she looked at me, everything around us lit up in a gold and purple haze. I leaned in and kissed her deeply. She sighed into my mouth as I crushed my lips to hers, hungry yet gentle. I could see the intent in her eyes as we broke apart. She was hungry, too, but I played dumb.

“Want to go sew together some oranges?”

“No,” she said with a furrowed brow.

“How about flash cards?” I said, turning from her to grab the champagne bottle we’d emptied.

“No,” she said, giving me an odd look out of the corner of her eye.

“All right then. We can go through the medical journal—”

“What are you doin’?” she asked now a bit of bite to her voice. “I don’t need to study today. Today is about us.”

“I get that. But, baby, we spent a whole day celebrating and you splitting and sewing up oranges is about us.”

“I don’t see you running off to work on a plane,” she scoffed as I packed up the truck.

“Because, I’ve been doing it my whole life, and when I see you practicing with your surgical kit, I can tell it makes you happy. I mean we can bullshit around half the night and you’ll still end up sneaking out of bed to do a few, or you can just admit to me now that you want to go home and practice.”

“I do not sneak out of bed,” she said. “And it’s not that interesting.”

“It is to you,” I said, crossing my arms as I closed the tailgate. She eyed me, unsure how to react. It was my chance to show her that in my heart of hearts, I knew I would have to share her with the world. She wasn’t only a gift to me. She would be to other people, too. I took a step forward and lifted the cover off of the cardboard box I’d stuck there this morning.

She looked at the huge pile of oranges then up at me with a smile so beautiful it took my breath away. “I think I wished you into my life, too.” She chuckled as she picked up and tossed around her newest cadavers. Worry covered her brow as she looked back at me for reassurance. “You know I love you, right? I mean, you know how important you are to me, right? And that spending time with you is just...it means everything.”

I just nodded at her with a grin.

She shook her head, still a bit stunned, and then looked at me slyly. “How did you know?”

“Call it intuition.”

“Come on, woman, I don’t have all damn day!”

“Seriously, you’re acting like a total diva,” I huffed, pushing my fingers through the lace sleeves. “I mean, isn’t that my job? I’m the one who is stuck in here trying on tutus. Who thought of lace, anyway? This is not cool.”

“I did because you are the only woman past the eighties who can pull it off!” The curtain moved and Dallas’s annoyed expression turned soft. “God, I’m good.”

“Seriously?” I asked, not having bothered to look in the mirror.

“It was made for you. Turn around.”

“No, tell me why you’re so pissy. Aren’t I the one that should be downing champagne?” I took the tilted glass from her and greedily drank the rest.

“Turn around,” she said testily.

“No, you’re ruining my day,” I said, not giving a shit about the fact I was trying on wedding dresses. Truthfully, I’d been dreading it. I just never saw myself as a delicate bride. If I had a real choice in the matter, I’d probably wear scrubs and Chucks and walk down the aisle to old-school Eminem. Grant had insisted we do it a bit more traditional, and I’d reluctantly agreed.

“Sorry,” she said with a sigh, her green eyes getting larger as she realized her behavior on what was supposed to be an important day for me. “God, I’m so sorry!” I saw emotion pass over her and guided her over to the Victorian-style, plush green couch that sat in the middle of the fitting room. It was the only thing in the room that wasn’t white. Avoiding the huge row of mirrors, I turned to my sister with determination.

BOOK: The Mind (The Reluctant Romantics #1.5)
3.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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