Say It
THE DOOR OPENED.
I was lounging across the bed in my black satin nightie. It had spaghetti straps that crisscrossed over a mostly exposed back, a hem that hit me right at the bottom of my ass, slits up the sides to my waist. With that, I wore a pair of little, black panties (all of it Lash bought me, he didn’t only have an eye for good eveningwear, costumes and interior décor, he was hell on wheels in the lingerie department).
I didn’t tear my eyes away from the movie I’d rented from the hotel selection as I called out my greeting to the returning Lash.
He’d gone places unknown, explaining he had “shit to do.” I didn’t question this. Lash owned a successful club. He often had “shit to do.” So much of it he couldn’t escape it and I knew some of it would eventually leak into our getaway.
So, eyes never leaving the TV, I called, “I think warning the catering staff I was in meltdown over a hot guy was overkill, honey. They didn’t give me a breadknife with my room service and ‘forgot’ to bring it up even after I called so I had to pry open my baguette and spread my pâté with a fork.”
There was silence as I felt Lash’s presence near the bedroom area.
Then, “You don’t look like you’re in meltdown over a hot guy.”
That wasn’t Lash and my eyes flew to the wide doorway that led to the bedroom area where Gray was lounging, shoulder against the jamb, arms crossed, ankles crossed, lean hips hitched, eyes on me.
I was on my side, head in hand, elbow in the bed, but seeing him I shot up to a straight arm, hand in the bed, and stared, my breath clean leaving me.
Gray’s eyes held mine then they traveled down my body and his entire expression changed to one I hadn’t seen in seven years. One for just over two months I saw often. One I never forgot, not for a day, and one that had a profound effect on my whole body.
“Jesus, fuck,” he muttered.
“How did you get in here?” I whispered.
His gaze moved to mine, his arms uncrossed, and between two long fingers he held a keycard.
But he didn’t answer.
“How did you get that?” I asked.
He casually shoved the keycard in his back pocket, re-crossed his arms on his chest and kept his eyes on me, but he didn’t speak.
“Gray?” I called.
“You sleep with him.”
It was a statement not a question.
I held his gaze and for some ridiculous reason explained quietly, “We whisper about our days before we fall asleep and he cuddles. I like that. Not feeling alone even when I’m asleep.”
Gray pushed away from the doorjamb and started toward the bed, saying, “I’ll remember that.”
At his movement, I pushed up to my knees and scooted back, asking, “What?”
“I’ll remember you like to whisper about your day before you fall asleep and you like cuddling. I’ll remember that. Though, already knew that last part.”
I hit headboard and changed directions, scooting quickly off the bed, repeating, “What?”
Gray changed directions too, moving to round the bed toward me, saying, “I think you heard me, Ivey.”
What was happening?
“What are you doing here?”
He was almost at me as he said, “Told you we had to talk. We’re gonna do other things first, then we’ll talk.”
At his presence, his movements and his inference, my heart leapt into my throat then my feet leapt onto the bed. I ran across its wide expanse and jumped down the other side, eyeing the doorway, knowing I was acting like a lunatic, not caring even a little bit and then seeing Gray had changed directions and was again coming at me.
He had a mind to do it he’d get to me fast. I knew it. I didn’t have a prayer.
“Wait!” I cried putting a hand up but he didn’t even slow.
But he did speak.
“Honest to God, dollface, you need to stop running around in that fuckin’ nightie. You’re killin’ me.”
I was breathing fast even though I was not moving, not able to get a lock on all that I was feeling.
Panic, a little bit.
Confused, definitely.
Excited . . .
Oh yeah.
Panic, as it does, won out and I made a dash toward the seating area not even knowing why I was doing it. But I was caught with an arm around my belly, hauled back into a hard body, walked back swiftly then I was going down. Gray landed on the bed, I landed on Gray then he slid me off him and rolled right on top of me.
Yes, that was what I said.
Right on top of me.
I took his heavy weight, I loved his heavy weight, and I looked into his heated eyes.
Oh God.
“Gray—” I whispered.
“Fuck, Jesus, fuck,” he hissed and his forehead dropped down to mine. “I missed you sayin’ my name like that.”
Tears filled my eyes and my heart started beating triple time.
“What’s happening here?” I kept whispering.
His head went back up and his hand came to frame my face, his thumb sliding out high across my cheekbone under my eye.
“Please don’t cry anymore, Ivey.”
I pulled in a trembling breath in an attempt to get a lock on it, succeeded in that endeavor and repeated, “What’s happening here?”
“I need you to know I don’t think you’re anything but Ivey.”
My head shook slightly with confusion and I asked, “Sorry?”
“You’re not anything but Ivey. Way those two guys got your back, you never have been.”
“I don’t . . .” I cleared my throat because my voice came out croaky, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t think you’re a whore. I don’t think you’re trash. I don’t think you’re anything but Ivey, the prettiest thing I ever saw seven years ago and seriously the prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen five minutes ago wearin’ that fuckin’ nightie.”
My body froze under him and my eyes froze on his face.
Gray wasn’t done speaking.
“I loved you then. I love you now. I’ve loved you every day for seven years. You left, flashback to my mom, flashback to my dad pinin’ for my mom. He loved her, Christ, he loved her. Ate away at him when she left. He never got it. Never. And that pain dug deep and grew bitter so when she came back he never forgave her. Three years they lived in the same town, he never forgave her. She came to his funeral and she looked crushed. She actually looked it. Like her world just ended, and even now I see her and that haunts her eyes, what she lost, what she threw away, what she’ll never get back. And that was me when you left, Ivey. I knew it was happening to me, I felt it, I understood it, I lived it with my dad and knew it was happening to me and I didn’t do fuck all to try to stop it.”
He couldn’t be serious.
This couldn’t be happening.
“You love me?” I breathed.
His eyes didn’t leave mine and the intensity didn’t leave his.
“Yeah.”
“You love me,” I stated.
“Yeah.”
“Every day for seven years?”
“Every day, every minute, every second since you blew on me.”
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
I stared into his eyes.
He was serious.
This was happening.
Oh my God.
Gray’s thumb slid across my cheekbone again and he said gently, “Now, you get that, can you relax so I can kiss you then I can fuck you then we can talk about important shit. After that, I’m gonna fuck you again then we’ll go to sleep and while we do, we’ll cuddle.”
I stared at him again before I whispered, “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Order me to tell you I love you.”
The instant the words came out of my mouth, his eyes closed, a shadow of pain crossed his face and he dropped his head to the side of mine.
He remembered.
He missed that too.
He missed it badly just like me.
His hand found mine, his fingers laced tight and his lips went to my ear.
And there he whispered words I longed to hear for over seven long years, “Say you love me, Ivey.”
I turned my head, my arm stealing around him, and I whispered back, “I love you, Gray.”
His head lifted, mine kept turning and we both went for it, our mouths colliding.
We had a lot of making up to do. Seven years.
And it was clear both of us had the same thing on our minds.
Desperate, even greedy, mouths taking, tongues driving, hands bumping into each other’s, I tore his shirt over his head then I yanked at his belt. Gray took over and I multitasked, moving down, pulling off his boots, his socks then tugging at the legs of his jeans.
Then he was naked, gorgeously naked and hard—hard everywhere. He rolled back into me and, whoosh!—my panties were gone then, whoosh!—my nightie was gone and then we really went for it. Driven. Near frantic. Like one or the other of us would disappear into thin air and we had only that moment and the next and the next.
Gray’s fingers between my legs were making me whimper into his mouth and my hand stroking his cock was making him groan into mine and he shifted.
He lifted up, jerking me up as he went. He positioned me, my legs opened to straddle his hips, his arm was around my waist and he pulled me down on him, filling me.
Gray filling me, inside me, connected to me.
Yes.
My hands went into his hair, fisting, my head fell down, my forehead crashing into his and I rode him. Moving up, driving down, again, again with the same desperation we’d both had since we started. My mouth was against his, our breath mingled. I kept going and my mouth moved, lips open, tip of my tongue trailing, down his cheek, along his jaw.
God, I loved the taste of him.
Always did.
His hands slid up my back, gathering my hair, holding it at my neck in his fists, his arms tight around me as I kept riding him.
It didn’t take me long, it had been over seven years, it came fast, and I gasped, “Gray.”
He heard it, knew it was coming and he twisted me. I landed on my back, he kept thrusting and his mouth came to mine as it swept through me. Bright, burning, beautiful, I moaned my orgasm into his mouth.
Both his hands went behind my knees, jerking up, and still mewing through the glorious aftermath of my orgasm, I kept taking him, rocking my hips to take more, give more to him. He buried his face in my neck, grunting with each thrust, his hands shoving back my knees and I knew he was close.
“Baby, I wanna see,” I whispered and his head came up.
My hand moved to one of his, took it. He twisted his, laced his fingers with mine and pressed it into the bed beside me as he kept driving into me.
“Missed you,” I kept whispering, watching his face, drinking in his beauty. “Missed you so much, Gray.”
He held my eyes and kept moving as he whispered back on a groan, “My beautiful Ivey.”
“Missed you, honey.”
Then he gave it to me. His cock drove deep, his head shot back then it fell forward, his forehead to mine and I watched it move through his face as his hips bucked into mine again, again, again, again and one last time before he stayed rooted and his weight hit me.
When I sensed it was fading for him I whispered yet again, “Missed you.”
Gray closed his eyes, slanted his head and he kissed me, wet, deep, yes, God, yes, I missed him.
His lips slid from mine to my jaw, my ear, down and started nuzzling my neck as his hand left the back of my knee. My calves shifted to round him, his free hand went up into my hair and he moved our linked hands to press them to his chest, sandwiching them between us.
Finally his head came up but his eyes didn’t come to me. They went to my hair and I watched him watch his movements as I felt his hand sift through it like he was arranging it, fanned across the comforter.
He took his time doing it, his expression absorbed, before his eyes came to mine.
“You never cut it,” he noted softly.
“Never,” I confirmed.
“It’s longer now.”
It was. A lot longer.
“Yes.”
His gaze held mine and I saw something flash in his, more pain but understanding.
“You did that for me.”
I did. I never cut my hair except for trims and I did it for him.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Didn’t have me, knew what that meant to me and did it for me.”
I pressed my lips together. His voice was rough, thick, it sounded tortured like he had to push the words out.
“Fuck, Ivey,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes and lifted my head to shove my face in his neck.
He squeezed my hand then I felt him turn his head so he could say in my ear, “Gonna get off you now, dollface. You need to put your sweet nightie back on. We got shit to talk about and I want you to feel safe while we do it. Yeah?”
I pulled in a trembling breath, nodded, my face moving against his skin. He gently slid out, rolled off me and took me with him. Then he rolled out of bed, taking me with him when he did that too and setting me on my feet in the circle of his arms but he didn’t let me go.
I tipped my head back and looked at him to see he was looking down at me.
“You gotta know, I also want you to put that nightie and those panties back on because I like them a fuckuva lot.”
Then he grinned and gave me the dimple.
I had a nanosecond to make a choice.
Take in that dimple for the first time in years, how it made his extreme masculinity so damned cute, remembering how much I loved it, feeling that love still, having it back and burst into uncontrollable tears again. Or take in that dimple for the first time in years while standing naked in his arms after he told me he still loved me then made love to me and keep my shit, move forward with Gray to put the past behind and move the fuck on.
I chose option two.
And therefore I grinned back. It was tough, the pain wanted to burst through so my grin trembled on my lips. But I did it.
He saw it, a shadow crossed his features but he made the same decision as me. I knew this when his head dipped, his mouth touched mine, he again lifted it and his arms gave me a squeeze.
Then he ordered, “Get dressed, honey.”
I nodded and moved to grab my nightie and panties. I pulled the nightie on over my head, moved to the bathroom, cleaned up, donned my panties and came out.
Gray was buttoning up his jeans, his chest was bare, the TV was off, and the minute I moved into the room, his eyes came to me.
“Come here, dollface,” he murmured.
I went there. The instant I made it to him, he picked me up like a groom would carry his bride and he walked us to the bed. Then we were in it. He spent some time grabbing pillows to stack behind his back before he settled with head and shoulders against the headboard, me tucked to his side, my head to his pectoral, his chest all I could see.
God, was I really here with Gray?
To prove it to myself, my arm snaked across his flat abs and my leg lifted and tangled with one of his.
Yes. He was real. I was there with Gray.
“Do you think it’s weird that I sleep with my fake, gay boyfriend?”
That was me. I blurted it right out and for a second I wished I had the power to shove it back in. But then I felt Gray’s body shaking and I knew he was laughing.
I lifted my head to look at his face and again got the dimple.
Damn, but I loved that fucking dimple.
And he was definitely laughing.
I loved that too.
“Yeah,” he answered.
I stared at him as it dawned on me.
“It is,” I declared. “It is weird that I sleep with my fake, gay boyfriend.”
Gray’s body started shaking harder and the word was also shaking when he repeated, “Yeah.”
Great.
His arm around me tightened and he slid me partially up his chest so my face was closer to his still smiling one.
“Shit that’s weird to a man from Mustang, Colorado is probably not weird in Vegas. There’s probably nothin’ you could do that would be weird in Vegas.”
I’d lived in Vegas for a long time therefore I knew this was totally true.
Gray wasn’t done.
“And he loves you near as much as I love you. And you love him. I see his play, I get it, and the way you love him, I get why you’d give that gift to him. You got somethin’ outta it too and way he loves you, I get why he’d give it to you. You love someone, you do shit like that, and that, Ivey, is not weird.”
Okay, well, good to know the seven years had not changed the fact that Grayson Cody was understanding, generous, kind and loving.
What he would say next would prove that seven years had not changed the fact that Grayson Cody was a serious macho man rancher cowboy.
And I knew this when the amusement shifted out of his face, it got serious, his arm got tighter and he stated, “That said, that shit stopped about half an hour ago.”
“Right,” I whispered.
“Right,” he whispered back.
Totally a macho man rancher cowboy.
Therefore, it killed me but I had to be honest and I felt it was fair to warn him, “You know, a long time has passed. I’ve changed. I’m not the Ivey you knew. You were right that night you saw me. I’m hard as nails. I’m not a pushover anymore.”
That was when he gave me the gift of Grayson Cody that I missed most of all.
His arm squeezed tight, his body shook deep and he burst out laughing.
I watched it. I loved it. I loved it no less than I always loved it. But I didn’t laugh because I was being deadly serious.
Gray looked down at me, saw my serious face and pulled me further up his chest so we were eye to eye still, incidentally, chuckling.
Then he muttered, “Bullshit.”
“It’s true,” I told him.
He kept grinning and repeated a muttered, “Bullshit.”
My hand moved to curl around his neck and I said softly, “No, seriously, Gray, it’s true.”
Gray’s grin faded and he got serious too.
“They came to me, both a’ them.”
“What?”
“Your fake, gay boyfriend and that mammoth black guy. They came to me.”
I blinked before I whispered, “Sorry?”
“Keycard?” he asked and my body stilled as it hit me. “He gave it to me.”
His hand came up, fingers sliding into my hair at the side, holding it back and he continued.
“He told me everything, Ivey, everything about you. Both of them came but your fake boyfriend laid it out. Those two men would do anything for you. They’d walk through fire for you. You were hard as nails, those men, who they are, what they do, what they’ve undoubtedly seen, where they live, they would not give one shit about you. You were hard as nails, you wouldn’t take a coupla phone calls from Janie, hightail your ass up here and sort my shit. You wouldn’t give a fuck where Gran was stayin’. You thought I moved on from you in three months, you would not save me from losin’ my land. You thought everyone in Mustang thought you were trash, you would not protect their legacy. You are not hard as nails, Ivey. You’re just Ivey.”
“Shut up, you’re going to make me cry,” I snapped, fighting tears, and again Gray burst out laughing, both his arms moving around me to pull me more on top of him and hold me tight. “Gray! I wasn’t being funny!”
“Dollface,” he said through his continuing laughter, “women who are hard as nails do not cry at the drop of a hat and I’ve not spent a lot of time with you in seven years but a lotta the time I’ve spent with you, you’ve been bawlin’.”
This was true.
Shit.
“Well, when I see Lash and Brutus and you see me kick their ass, you’ll see my hard.”
His face got that near to tender look I also missed a whole helluva lot and he replied quietly, “You’ll give them attitude, no doubt, but you’re as devoted to them as they are to you and you know they did that shit for you so it’ll be a show and they’ll know that too.”
He was right.
I decided to change the subject, not to a better one but change it anyway.
So, hesitantly, I asked, “What did Lash tell you?”
“Everything.”
Fabulous.
Unfortunately, I needed detail.
“What’s everything?”
Gray didn’t hesitate. “That he knows you told me about him. That you took to heart that shit I spewed when I was pissed at seein’ you on that stage and I had to get my ass in gear or I was gonna lose you again. That your mother was fucked up. What went down that put you and your brother on your path. How your brother took your back which explained your loyalty to him, something, darlin’, I was glad to know because it was somethin’, no matter how much I chewed on it, which was a whole fuckuva lot, I never got. And last, that you mighta done what you did on that stage but there was no one but me.”
Well, there it was. Lash told Gray everything.
Therefore there was a lot to go over.
So, again hesitantly, I started, “So you know about who I am? I mean, where I came from, what Casey did, how I grew up?”
“Yep.”
And he was here.
Right then, moving on.
“You were seriously pissed when you saw me dance, Gray.”
“Yep.”
And he was still here but still, that concerned me.
“That happened,” I reminded him. “I can’t erase that from my past.”
“First, Ivey, I was seein’ you for the first time in three years after I thought you cleared out on me. Like I said earlier, my shit was fogged with what my mother did so I didn’t think about it. I didn’t think that maybe there was a reason and maybe I should look into that and find you. I just thought history was repeating itself. Did I like you dancin’ like that for a bunch a’ men to watch, get hard, go home and jack off for probably the next ten years, eyes closed, thinkin’ of you?” he asked.
He didn’t wait for my answer, he answered for me.
“No. I didn’t like it at all. But I was more pissed about seein’ the woman I love for the first time after she cleared out on me. You coulda been walkin’ down a street and I woulda been pissed. It just was not good you were doin’ what you were doin’ which aggravated my anger. Then you were how you were in that parking lot because you were hurt and pissed at me. If you were Ivey that woulda gone different.”
He gave a short shake of his head and kept talking.
“Fuck, I went there and waited for you not admitting to myself but definitely hoping that I’d walk up to you and under all that makeup you wore would be my Ivey and you’d give me back my girl. You weren’t Ivey. Your guard was up, understandably, I get that now, but that was all I could see. That pissed me off worse, I mouthed off, said stupid shit because I was pissed but,” his voice suddenly dropped soft and low, “I didn’t like what you were doin’, baby, not for a room full of people. But you were beautiful up there. Amazing.” He grinned. “My girl, everything she does, every-fucking-thing, she does it better than anybody. We gotta get you some of those feathered fans, but from here on out, you got a one man audience.”
I glared at him even though I liked all he said, I loved having that explanation, and as always, I adored his compliment. It meant the world to me.
Still.
“I don’t dance anymore, Gray,” I informed him.
He kept grinning and muttered, “Reckon I could get you to do it for me.”
He definitely could.
“Whatever,” I muttered back and his grin became a smile.
I rolled my eyes.
Then I gave up the fake attitude and smiled back.
Gray took in a deep breath and lost his smile as his eyes changed, their intensity burning into me.
And when he spoke again, he did it gently, quietly but firmly.
“Seven years we lost, dollface, we both did shit, we lived our lives and we’ve probably changed. But I know who’s in my arms and I know what I felt back then, what I felt for the years in between and what I feel now. You got a life in Vegas, friends who are devoted to you and I can see it’s a good life. I cannot give that kind of life to you. You sortin’ my shit doesn’t mean I don’t have a shitload more problems, but even when I see my way clear of that I can’t give you a life like your fake boyfriend does. You also know I’m not leavin’ my land.”
He took in another breath but held my gaze captive as he went on.
“So, the important shit we gotta talk about is that I want you back, in Mustang, in my home, in my bed. I do not want to spend time explorin’ that option before we get that. I’ve lost seven years and you have too. I just want you with me, in my house, in my bed. And you gotta decide, knowin’ what you got and knowin’ you gotta give that all up and knowin’ what I can give you, what you’re going to do.”
“Well, I think I should probably help Lash deal with my replacement but then I’m moving to Mustang,” I replied instantly and Gray’s arms got tight a second as he blinked slow.
Then he asked, “What?”
“First, I love you,” I stated. “Second, she’s bossy but I love Mrs. Cody. Third, Mustang was the only home I ever really had until Lash gave me one. But Lash is a good man and he has a lot of love to give. He’ll eventually find a partner. I know this, always have and always dreaded it. And it’s probably time he pulls his finger out, quits spending his time looking out for me and starts thinking about his own happiness.”
It was my turn to take a breath but I did it for a different purpose than Gray did. That being to hold my temper (an endeavor, incidentally, that kinda failed).
And I kept talking.
“And last, something is happening in Mustang. That something involves Buddy Sharp, that something is not good, and the target is you. Yesterday, I foiled his plans, but if he’s still aiming punches at you after seven years, then me doing what I did yesterday is not going to stop him. And Mrs. Cody is in a nursing home in a wheelchair, someone has to have your back and that someone is me. So, Gray, you get Ivey but I’ve been around the block. I’m an ex-Vegas showgirl. You might not see hard but no one fucks with someone I care about and I might be a pushover for you but Buddy Sharp better watch his shit because if he tries to fuck with you again, I’m gonna bring him down.”
Gray stared at me and he did it so long I wondered if I went a little overboard.
Then he grinned and murmured, “Fuck, darlin’, you’re cute when you’re tryin’ to be a badass.”
Trying to be?
“I’m being very serious,” I informed him.
“I see that, baby, you’re still cute.”
“Seriously, Gray, I was the headliner at a burlesque show with twenty other girls who hated me and spent their time trying to stab me in the back. Now, I run the floor of that burlesque show and I’ve got a bunch of waitresses and bartenders who keep bringing their personal lives into Lash’s club so I have to deal with their crap. No joke, when I get going, I can be hell on wheels.”
Still grinning, Gray shifted, rolling us so I was on my back and he was on top of me, doing this muttering, “Gonna look forward to that.”
“You might find it unattractive,” I told him honestly, and I hid it, but to me, fearfully.
He stopped grinning and locked his eyes with mine.
“Dollface,” he started, “you in your fancy-ass red getup with your smooth operator that no one in a million years would believe is gay, your humongous bodyguard and your shiny Lincoln, rollin’ through Mustang, kickin’ ass and takin’ names in a classy way happened yesterday and it’s already lore. I had so many fuckin’ phone calls, from Janie, Shim, Stacy, Sonny, Ang, describin’ that shit in detail, I had to turn off my phone. Yesterday, you were hell on wheels for me. This is not news. And I do not find it unattractive. And if shit goes down I’m gonna look forward to you rollin’ that out to have my back.”
Oh. Well then.
That was good.
“Okay,” I whispered then smiled at Gray.
Gray didn’t smile back.
Instead he asked, “You really movin’ to Mustang?”
“Yes,” I answered immediately.
“You’re movin’ to Mustang.”
“Yes, Gray.”
He stared at me.
Then he whispered, “My girl’s movin’ back to Mustang.”
Damn it all to hell!
My eyes again got wet and I whispered back, “Yes, Gray.”
He held my eyes and murmured, “Don’t cry, Ivey.”
I took in a trembling breath and murmured back, “Okay, Gray.”
He drew in a breath too. Then his gaze dropped to my mouth.
I knew what that meant.
And Gray gave me what it meant.
Five minutes later, arms locked around each other, lips locked together, tongues dancing, heart rates escalating, a knock came at the door.
Gray’s mouth broke from mine and his eyes went to the door.
“Lash,” I murmured and his eyes came back to me.
He touched his lips to mine, rolled off me and the bed, grabbed his tee from the floor and strode to the door pulling it on.
I watched, uncertain if I should aim my eyes at his shoulders, his back or his ass.
I picked his ass.
He opened the door and I heard Lash say quietly, “I got a room, my man, but I need my shit. Gave you time. Hope it was enough.”
“It was enough,” Gray replied, opening the door and stepping aside.
Lash stepped in as I moved off the bed, my eyes on him.
His eyes came to me and he stopped. Gray closed the door and I moved but Lash didn’t.
He was worried I’d be pissed.
I smiled at him so he’d know I wasn’t. Over the years he gave me a lot and a couple of hours ago he set about giving me everything. How could I be pissed about that?
Lash smiled back, relief in his.
Seeing that, I stopped walking and ran.
He caught me in his arms and mine closed around him tight.
Face in his neck, I held him tighter, moved my mouth to his ear and whispered, “Thank you, honey.”
His arms gave me a squeeze and he replied in a whisper, “Anything for you, babe. Anything.”
“I love you, Lash.”
“I know, babe.”
That was when I burst into tears.
Yes, again.
Two seconds later, Lash transferred me into Gray’s arms and Gray held me close as Lash wandered around the room packing.
“She do this a lot?” Gray asked, one arm tight around me, one hand sifting through my hair.
“Oh yeah, usually about you, though, never about me,” Lash answered, sounding amused.
“Told me she’s hard as nails,” Gray shared, still holding me close, hand sifting through my hair.
At that, it was Lash who burst out laughing.
Jeez.
I pulled my face out of Gray’s chest, dashed a hand across my wet cheeks and snapped, “I am!”
It was then, both of them burst out laughing.
Now I was getting mad.
“I’m a hard as nails, badass Vegas showgirl who’s been around the block,” I declared.
“Okay, babe, keep tellin’ yourself that,” Lash muttered, shoving underwear in his bag, grinning.
Right.
Whatever.
I pulled out of Gray’s arms and looked up at him.
“Have you had dinner?”
He looked down at me, dimple out which made my irritation vanish but I didn’t let on.
“No,” he answered.
“Do you want room service?”
“Yeah.”
I looked to Lash. “Do you want to join us?”
Lash looked to me then to Gray, smiled huge and answered, “Fuck no.”
“You’re welcome,” I told him.
“I’m not,” he told me.
“But—”
“Babe, you love me, I get that. But your man does not want me here and I orchestrated this so I’m cool with bein’ kicked out. Reunite. Enjoy it. You deserve it.” He came to me, wrapped his hand around the back of my head, kissed the top then he let me go and stepped back. “Me and Freddie’ll see you two at breakfast.”
With that he walked into the bedroom area and disappeared into the bathroom.
I looked to Gray and said softly, “You could have made him feel welcome to have dinner with us.”
“Dollface, no way in hell he’s welcome to have dinner with us,” Gray replied softly back.
I glared at him thinking he was probably right.
“Baby, come here,” Gray ordered. “You’re too far away.”
“I’m two feet away.”
“Ivey, for seven years you’ve been two states away. You’re too far away. Come here.”
My heart swelled, my belly curled in a really nice way and I went there.
And when I got there I found he was again right. Really right.
And when I made it the two steps to him, I was right.
Right where I wanted to be, right where I belonged.
Held tight against the long, lean frame of Grayson Cody.
My head pressed back into the pillows as it washed over me.
At the same time, Gray shoved his face in my neck and I heard it come over him.
We came simultaneously. We’d never done that before.
It was brilliant.
The fingers of both his hands were laced through mine, holding them over my head pressed into the pillow. He was buried deep and staying right there. My legs were up, knees bent, thighs tucked deep to his sides.
We said nothing, just came down, joined, close, holding hands, tucked tight, Gray’s breath drifting against my neck, mine his shoulder. We needed no words. We’d had them. We’d need more but not now. Now was about what he’d just given me, I’d just given him, both at the same time, our bodies as close as they could be, our fingers laced, sharing space, breath, a bed, our time, our lives.
What we should have had for seven years, this, more of Gray’s dimple, his laughter, maybe children, creating a family.
We felt it, both of us, I knew it. I knew it was searing through his mind too. We took that moment after being found again to experience the loss, mourn it so we could let it go.
I loved him then and now so desperately, it hurt. But if what happened didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have Lash, I wouldn’t have Freddie. It sucked I couldn’t just have it all without the pain in between but I’d learned life didn’t have that in store for me. I wasn’t a victim, life didn’t give that to anybody.
But I had it all now.
All of it.
Everything.
Gray’s lips moved to my ear and he whispered, “Say you love me, Ivey.”
Yep. I had it all.
Everything.
My fingers squeezed his hands and I whispered back, “I love you, Gray.”
I felt his sigh on my neck before he said softly, “You gotta clean up, okay, but come back to this bed in that nightie but no panties.”
We weren’t done.
Yippee!
“We’re not going to sleep?” I asked to confirm.
“Yeah, we are.”
Oh. Bummer.
Gray kept talking.
“But when I wake up, be it morning or middle of the night, I don’t want anything in my way that wastes my time.”
Brilliant.
I grinned.
He kissed my neck, pulled out and rolled off me.
I rolled into him, kissed his chest then rolled off the bed and did what I was told.
Back in bed, tucked tight to Gray’s side, my arm around his stomach, my head on his shoulder, my leg tangled in his, he’d pulled my nightie up to my waist so his hand was cupping the bare cheek of my ass and my eyes were drifting closed when Gray called, “Ivey.”
“Yeah, baby,” I answered sleepily.
“Thank you for takin’ care of Gran and savin’ my land.”
My eyes shot open.
“Pay you back,” he went on.
“Gray—” I started, also starting to lift my head but his other hand came up, fingers in my hair cupping the side and he held it down.
“Not with money, baby, but swear to Christ, by the time you leave this earth, you’ll feel I paid you back.”
I started deep breathing.
Gray asked, “You gonna start bawlin’?”
“Maybe,” I mumbled, that one word trembling.
“Shit,” he muttered.
That was when the tears stopped threatening and I grinned.
Then I pressed deeper.
Gray’s hand slid through my hair and went away.
“Love you, honey,” he whispered.
“Love you too, baby,” I whispered back.
“’Night.”
“Goodnight.”
And shortly after, my eyes drifted closed and it was.
A very good night.