Chapter Nineteen
Home again, home again.
Stacey climbed the stairs to her apartment and sighed. Too bad there wasn’t anything more exciting waiting for her on a Friday night than dinner and Netflix. Which was pretty much all she could handle. Between her business clients and lack of sleep, she was exhausted.
She stuck her key into the lock and pushed the door open, then stopped as several things registered all at once.
The lights were on.
Sounds were coming from the kitchen.
Music was playing.
Something clattered onto the counter. “Goddamn it.”
Her heartbeat kicked up at the sound of the familiar male voice. “Grant?” She shut the door and nearly tripped on her way toward the kitchen. “What the—?”
She stepped carefully around the trail of wooden spoons…measuring cups…a kitchen scale…a couple of spatulas…and something that looked like a paintbrush. She blinked. Were those envelopes scattered along the trail?
“You’re here,” Grant said, a goofy smile on his face.
“What are you—” She looked past him, and only then did she notice the condition of her kitchen. Every pot and pan she owned was out. Every lid right along with it. Cabinet doors were opened, and half the contents of a drawer were on the stovetop. “—doing?”
“I thought I’d make you dinner.”
He looked half excited, half apologetic as he followed the route her gaze had taken. And he looked so damned cute with her apron tied around his waist.
“Is that what this is supposed to be?” She propped her hands on her hips and looked around the small space again. “Cleanup’s going to be a bitch.”
She tried to concentrate on that thought, but couldn’t. Instead her gaze darted back to Grant. He was here. Now. And damn if her heart couldn’t stop registering that fact. If she wasn’t careful, it’d beat right out of her chest.
But she couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through her, couldn’t stop the way her pulse picked up speed, either. Grant was here. Even after she’d sent him away, even after she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to see him again, he was here. That had to mean something, right?
“Ummm…I kinda think I might’ve gotten in over my head.”
“You think?” She pointed past him at a bubbling mess of something on the stove. “What’s that supposed to be?”
“Risotto. I tried to get ahold of Carly for some advice, but she’s not answering my texts.”
“She’s pissed at you.”
“Oh.” He shrugged, obviously undaunted. “I decided to go it alone. Thanks to Google.” He held up his phone, that goofy grin back on his face again.
She read through the recipe. “You know you’re supposed to stir it on low heat, right?”
“Yeah, about that. I wasn’t sure what low was, so I started at the bottom and worked my way up when it wasn’t cooking fast enough.”
“Why?”
“Because it wasn’t cooking fast enough. I wanted it to be ready when you got home. I thought I just told you that.”
“Really?”
There was no way to stop the small smile on her face. He’d done all this, gone through all this trouble. For her.
She looked around at the mess. “I’m not sure if I should laugh or cry.”
“Look, Stacey, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll clean it all up.” He reached behind his back and pulled off the frilly apron, a gift from Carly that was supposed to inspire Stacey to do more than heat food in the microwave. “Can we please just talk? Since, obviously, having dinner ready for you isn’t happening here.”
“This should be good.” She leaned against a free spot on the counter and folded her arms. “Go ahead. Talk.”
“I screwed up.”
“That’s not news.”
He nodded. “I screwed up royally.”
“Try for something really new, Grant.”
He blew out a breath and looked at the floor. “This isn’t going to be easy for me to admit, but when I asked about canceling Therapy Tuesday, I wanted you to tell me not to go.”
She frowned. “You mean you were testing me?”
“I guess you could call it that.” He frowned, concern washing over his face. “I wanted you to tell me not to go, to tell me that you were looking forward to seeing me, to being with me.”
“Do you have any idea how much that hurt me?” she asked quietly. “Knowing that you wanted to go out with another woman? After everything we’d shared together?”
“I didn’t want to go out with her. And I didn’t go through with it, even when I thought you wanted me to.” He shook his head. “It took me a while, but I finally figured it out.”
“Figured what out? That you didn’t want to go out with her after all?”
“No, what I want.”
His face had that edge of vulnerability to it, one she’d seen several times when they were kids but thought he’d outgrown.
“I was too scared of the idea of us, of this,” he continued, pointing between the two of them. “I was so sure that I’d lose our friendship if we got too close, so sure you’d walk away. I didn’t want to risk it.”
She frowned. “First of all, we’ve been pretty close since we were eight. Did you honestly think anything would change that, especially if there was an ‘us’?”
His shoulders slumped. “All I know is that my mother walked out on me. If she could do it, anyone could. So it didn’t surprise me when I was shuffled from foster family to foster family. It’s like I wasn’t worth having around, you know? But right from the beginning you were always there for me. You made it all bearable.” He shook his head. “Just the thought of losing you, Stace… I couldn’t stand it.”
“You matter to me, Grant. You always have. At the heart of it, we both want to know that we matter to each other, right?”
She stepped toward him and reached out a hand, and when he took it, a zing of electricity pulsed through her. Would it always be this way between them? God, she hoped so.
“You’ll always matter to me,” he said quietly.
She looked around her kitchen. “I can see that.”
“I’m so sorry about Therapy Tuesday.” He blew out a breath and glanced up at the ceiling before lowering his gaze to capture hers. “Please believe me when I say that hurting you is something I never want to do again. Ever.”
His eyes told her everything she needed to know. In their depths were trust and hope and vulnerability. “I believe you.”
Was now the right time to tell him? To pour her heart and soul out for him to see? She looked away. Really, she had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.
“Grant?”
“Yeah?” He squeezed her hand, infusing warmth through her whole body and sending a trail of want chasing after it.
Stacey took a deep breath and kept her gaze on his. “I want you to know that I not only love you, but I believe in you, in us. And I believe that, no matter what, we’re stronger together than we could ever be apart from each other.”
He stared at her, and she saw the moment her words registered. “You love me? As in an action flick or rom-com kind of way? Because you should probably know I’m not romance material.”
She grinned. “So then what’s with the trail of kitchen stuff? I almost tripped on the spoons by the doorway.”
“I thought that maybe we could spend some time learning how to cook together. You know, take a class or something.” He scoffed. “Much better than rose petals.”
“You actually shopped for kitchen stuff? Some of those look like the specialty kinds that Carly has, so I’m pretty sure you didn’t get it around here.”
He pulled out his phone and grinned. “Amazon. Two-day shipping.”
“So you planned all this?” She felt her eyes go wide. “Mr. Live-in-the-Moment put a plan together? I’m impressed.” She stared at the odd assortment that comprised the trail. “But what about the envelopes?”
“They’re gift cards. You know, in case we mess up dinner and have to get takeout.”
He planned this for her. The dinner, such as it was, the cooking gadgets, the gift cards. Her heart swelled, threatening to burst with happiness.
She threw her arms around his neck and laughed. “Oh my God. Grant.”
“Was that funny?”
“No.” She pulled away and stared into his eyes, her heart squeezing at the sheer rightness of this man, this moment. “This means so much to me. I love it. And I love you.”
He smiled and smoothed his hand over her hair. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He grinned. “That’s convenient.” Then his smile faded, replaced by a fierce intensity. “Because I love you, too.”
“You do?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
She looked back at the trail of gadgets and envelopes and pulled away. “Wait,” she said, stooping to pick a well-worn envelope off the carpet. “This is the letter from your mom.”
He nodded. “That’s right.”
“I don’t get it. Why’s this here?”
Grant gently took the envelope from her. “It’s time I left the past where it belongs, and walk into the future I want. With you.”
Before she could stop him, he tore the envelope in half.
She gasped. “Grant, are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled, continuing to tear the paper until all that remained was a pile of strips on the kitchen counter.
Stacey blinked. “I think that’s one of the bravest, most romantic things I’ve ever seen.” She stood on tiptoe and quickly kissed his lips. “You want to hear something fun? Aside from Leo, who was a real douche, I realized that every relationship I’d ever had didn’t work out because, deep down, I’ve compared every single one of the guys to you. You’re the bar I’ve used, Grant, and it’s obvious to me that no one’s going to get close.”
He brought his mouth down to hers and the kiss was so soft, so tender, so sweet. How did she miss seeing Grant all these years? How did she miss the strength of his arms or the way he touched her heart, touched her soul?
When he pulled back, the raw vulnerability in his eyes was more than enough to convince Stacey this was exactly where she needed to be. “I want you in my life, Stace. Not just as my best friend, but as something more, something deeper.”
“I could go for that.”
“That’s good.” He seemed almost relieved.
“Why?”
“Because I was prepared to do whatever it took to get you back into my life.”
“Including cook me dinner?” she teased.
“Especially that.”
She peered around him. “I think we need to use one of the gift cards.”
“Pizza? I’ll go get it,” he offered.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” She tugged him close again and snuggled into his embrace. “I’m not hungry right now.”
“That’s too bad.”
He caressed her cheek, his touch so light, so tender, she was sure her heart would overflow with love for this man. “How come?”
He pulled back far enough to stare into her eyes. “Because I’m starving.” He held her face between his palms. “I’ve missed you so much, baby doll.”
Then he lowered his head and captured her mouth in a sweet kiss full of promises made, and promises yet to be made. Of dinner and Netflix nights, of kayaking and bike rides, of Therapy Tuesdays at The Chinese Stop.
Julian and Martha were right. Love was worth finding. And in this moment, Stacey knew it had been worth the wait.