Chapter Eight
After dinner, Grant’s brother Ben and his wife Amber came over with their baby boy. Ben looked like a slightly taller, lankier version of Grant. Over Doris’s homemade banana pudding, the family entertained Niki with stories from Grant and Ben’s youth while Niki worked on the table decorations for the party, gold-painted bottles that held placards decorated with bows, the couple’s names, and the year they married.
One by one, Grant’s parents and grandparents excused themselves to go to bed.
Ben rubbed the bridge of his nose and yawned. “I can’t wait until you’re back up here for good, bro. How long do you think it’ll be?”
Niki’s mood clunked at the reminder that too soon, she and Grant would be living separate lives with an ocean between them.
Grant cut his eyes at her before answering his brother. “Not much longer. My real estate agent is currently negotiating with an interested buyer as we speak.”
Amber tucked a blond curl behind her ear. “I can’t wait. Mostly because we love you, Grant. But with Ben working at the tractor supply store, taking care of the baby while I’m in class, and coming over here a few days a week to help out, he’s wearing himself out.”
Grant’s brow furrowed. “Sorry about that.”
Ben shrugged off the apology. “Maybe someday I’ll tell my manager what I really think of him and I’ll come farm with my baby brother like I’ve always wanted. For now, though, we need the company health insurance.”
“You’re in school?” Niki asked Amber.
“Mm hmm.” She pushed her tortoiseshell glasses higher on her nose. “I’ll graduate this summer with a degree in counseling from New Paltz. And hopefully get a job with the school system. They have great benefits.” She threw her husband one of those meaningful, married-couple stares.
“It’s been a long day,” Ben said.
When Amber nodded her agreement, they got up to leave, with Amber promising Niki a girls’ night the next time she came to visit. Niki didn’t have the heart to tell her there probably wouldn’t be a next time. Her eyes stung.
Soon, she and Grant were all alone. Just them and the crickets whirring lazily outside, that is. She leaned against the doorjamb and watched Ben and Amber’s taillights disappear down the road, eventually swallowed up by trees and moonlight.
Grant touched her arm. “Did you hear me?”
“Hmm?”
He was grinning at her and had his dad’s car keys in his hand. “I asked if you wanted to go for a drive.”
“Why not?”
She followed him outside, and he opened the passenger door to the station wagon for her that had actual wood panels. Or maybe faux wood panels. She wasn’t sure what a wood-paneled station wagon’s wood panels were actually made of, having never seen one outside of the movies.
“Is this the car you drove when you were a teenager?”
“Sure is. This or the pickup.” He got behind the wheel and started the engine. It hummed to life. Obviously, someone had taken good care of the old vehicle.
“Wow, I can’t believe your parents kept this thing around. It was probably old back then.” She poked at the vinyl seating with one finger. It’d give someone wearing shorts a heck of a booty burn after sitting outside in a Miami parking lot for a few hours.
“Things here change very slowly.”
“That would make me nuts.” She leaned back against the head rest and relaxed her shoulders. One thing for wood-paneled station wagons—they felt huge inside. It was like riding on a sofa.
“It’s comforting.” As he steered out of the long driveway, he pointed to a dilapidated building across the road with scaffolding climbing up the side. “That’s the Kellys’ barn there. They value the history of the place, the fact that Lyle Kelly’s great grandfather built it. In Miami, as soon as something gets a little old, a little wrinkled, it’s torn down so some fast-food joint can be erected. Here we use buildings longer, and we drive cars a little longer.”
“Or a lot longer.”
He slid her a sideways glance. “Or a lot longer.”
As they approached a covered bridge, she drew a deep breath and sat upright. Under the moonlight, it was one of the most beautiful scenes she’d ever beheld. The bridge sat over a winding, rocky creek with tall pines on either shore. Flowers and bushes with wild berries grew near the entrance.
“Now that looks like something you’d see on a picture postcard or in one of those scenic calendars.” The only thing missing was an adoring couple at the railing. With a glance at Grant, she mentally put the two of them into the picture. She did adore him, but they had completely different dreams.
Grant stopped the car. “Mill’s Pond Bridge.”
“Oh my God, is this the place your grandma was talking about? Where everyone from around here goes to fall in love?”
“According to her. Just stupid local folklore.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid at all.” She smacked him on the arm, which took a bit more of a reach than she’d thought given how wide the wagon was. “It’s your grandparents’ love story. Have some respect.” She lowered her window and breathed in the scent of lilac and hyacinth. “It also smells like heaven. Can we get out and walk around?”
He pulled to the side of the road and shut off the engine. “Let’s go.”
Niki noticed the same furrow on his forehead she’d seen a few times earlier in the evening when they were with his family. As they strode toward the covered bridge, she elbowed him. “So are you going to tell me what’s been eating at you tonight?”
Glancing at her for a moment, he raised an eyebrow then grinned, the moonlight glinting off his chipped front tooth making him look a bit like a dashing vampire from one of those risqué cable TV series. “Can’t hide anything from you.”
“Nope, so you might as well spill it.”
He stopped at a tree stump next to the entrance to the bridge, sat down, and pulled a weed out of the dirt. “When I was a kid, the family owned all those fields behind the house, and my grandfather and his brother farmed them. You expect to see your grandparents grow old and frail, but when it starts happening to your parents…” He shook his head and tossed the weed to the ground.
“Doris and Pete are still going strong.” She set a hand on his broad shoulder—the same shoulder that she’d leaned on when things got tough at work. The same one that had carried countless people in Miami to safety, no doubt. But she sensed that that one small touch wasn’t enough, so she stepped between his legs to hold him. She ran her palms up his muscular back, feeling every cell in her hands wake up at the feel of him.
Grant wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her against him. She heard him inhale, as if he were trying to breathe her in. She’d meant to merely offer comfort, but being there with him, touching him, reignited her attraction.
Their bodies molded together so well that however they touched it seemed they were a long-lost matching set.
Grant tilted his face up and met her stare. The heat in his green eyes was unmistakable. Her pulse quickened as he drew her closer, tightened his thighs so they gripped her.
She inhaled the clean scent of him mixed with the heady blooms of the flowers around them, and the mixture was like a drug. So what that they were parting ways soon? She just so did not care right now.
“Maybe your grandma was right. Even if we’re not in love, the bridge is magic,” she murmured.
His gaze fell to her mouth. “Could be.”
Threading her fingers through his thick dark hair, she brushed her lips across his and delighted in his low growl. She pulled away, wanting him to make a move, too.
He slid his hands up and down her sides and back, sending shivers of anticipation over her skin. Then he dipped his head, and his warm mouth was against her neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin there. A wave of heat coursed through her as Grant kissed his way along her collar bone and up her neck to her earlobe.
She leaned her head back and enjoyed the sensations. The moonlight, the sound of rushing water, and a cool evening breeze conspired to make the moment one of the most romantic of her life. Even if it had to end.
Just as his perfect Cupid’s-bow mouth was about to meet hers, Grant backed off, stood, and took her hand. “You have to see the view from the middle.”
Squelching her sigh of pure frustration, she let him lead her toward the bridge.
When they got to the open area at the halfway point, Niki grasped the wooden railing.
Grant positioned his hands on either side of hers, effectively locking her in. He rested his chin on her shoulder. “What do you think?”
Moonlight reflected on the rocks sticking out of the water. From her vantage point, she could see that the pond was actually a wide spot of a creek. But the scenery took a backseat to the lush feeling of having Grant hold her, of luxuriating in his embrace.
She twisted around so she faced him and took in the wide breadth of his shoulders, so powerful. Being in his arms made her feel as if nothing could ever harm her. Heck, he rescued people for a living. She didn’t have to worry about anything when she was with him. If she were to fall over the railing, he’d dive in after her to save her. Not that she needed saving, but in a pinch, it was good to have a professional on hand. How had she resisted touching him every day they’d lived together, each time they’d sat on his sofa, watching movies? How was she resisting now?
Hooking her fingers behind his neck, she lifted onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Forget London or pride—she had to have that mouth.
He tasted of the hard cider they’d drunk earlier. Her desired flared higher as Grant cradled her face in his hand and skimmed his thumb over her cheek.
Liquid heat pooled at the juncture of her thighs. There was no denying how turned on she was.
They’d be living in different countries soon.
Maybe she should just stop thinking so hard. Maybe she should take advantage of the opportunity to be with him here, now.
She’d already had him once, and if it was that amazing between them again… A shudder of unbridled longing raced up her spine.
Grant rubbed his hands up and down her back. “Cold?” He was so close. She could feel his breath on her face.
“Not at all.” Her mouth watered for more as lust curled around her senses. “I was just thinking how nice it would be to…for the two us to…” She stretched upward, needing to kiss him more than she needed air.
“Are you sure?” Edged in moonlight, his high cheekbones seemed more angular than usual, like he’d been carved from granite. Stupidly handsome granite.
Sure that she wanted him? Oh, yes. She’d never wanted a man more. Sure that this was the right thing to do? She had no clue about that. She nodded anyway, unable to do anything else.
Finally, finally his mouth came down on hers, and there was nothing soft about his kiss. Just heat. And a question. She silently gave him an answer. And then some.
He pulled back with a gasp. “It’s twenty minutes back to the house.” A corner of his sexy mouth lifted in a boyish smile. “Or there’s a blanket in the back of the station wagon.” She thought about his parents and grandparents at the farmhouse. What if someone heard them? “The car,” she said.
They stopped walking half a dozen times on the way, just because she couldn’t make it the few feet to Grant’s enormous car without kissing him some more. And judging by the number of times he pulled her around to face him, he felt the same. Each kiss made her knees buckle. Finally, he simply swung her up in his strong arms and carried her the rest of the way, making out with her as he walked.
When they got to the station wagon, he opened the rear door and used a blanket to fashion a bed of sorts in the back. The accommodations were far from similar to the softness of a real bed. Not that it mattered.
Grant got inside after she did and rolled a window partway down then shut the doors. He folded a towel and fluffed it up like a pillow. Tracing a sensuous line along her collarbone, he murmured, “It’s not the Ritz, but it’ll do.”
She pulled off her shirt and stretched out on her side. Grant skimmed his gaze over her body. The heat of awareness burned through her.
He propped himself on one elbow alongside her, so close that she could feel the hard length of him between them. Leaning closer, he pressed his lips to her shoulder, tenderly dotting her skin with kisses. His free hand roamed over her belly then moved higher to cup her breast.
A gasp of delight broke from her lips as he gently pinched her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra. Her temperature spiked as he kneaded and massaged her breast.
Grant set his hand on her stomach and teased a finger under the top button of her jeans. She lifted her bottom, urging him on. Of their own accord, her hips began rocking.
He closed his mouth over hers, kissing her with abandon, taking and exploring, sucking and licking, driving her mad with desire. She couldn’t wait another second to touch him. Slipping her fingers beneath his shirt, she traced the smooth, hairless skin, the hard lines of his abs. It had already been far too long since she’d been able to feel those muscles, despite having to see him without a shirt on a regular basis.
Pure torture. She took her time, luxuriated in the ridges and angles. When she used her fingernail to lightly scratch one of his nipples, he responded with a deep, completely male growl.
Grant rolled onto his back and, as he did, pulled her with him so she straddled him. She slid back and forth over him, grinning down at him as he groaned.
“You’re killing me.” Grasping her waist, he slowed her movements. He met her stare then hooked a hand behind the nape of her neck and pulled her down to him for a scorching kiss.
Lord, she couldn’t get enough of him. He skimmed his lips along her neck and over to her earlobe, then traced the shell of her ear with his wickedly skilled tongue.
A shiver of joy rolled across her skin. Recalling the intensity of her many orgasms when she and Grant had been together the night of Lucy’s wedding, she couldn’t wait for a repeat performance.
She found the hem of his T-shirt and worked it up, uncovering his glorious chest. Like a starving person sitting down to a gourmet feast, she drank in the sight of his ridiculously beautiful muscles for a moment, then she started just below his pecs and licked a path along the flat plane of his belly.
Grant let out a deep moan and freed her hair from the ponytail she’d had it in. Then he stroked his thumb over her cheek and guided her toward his mouth for another kiss.
Her skin tingled everywhere his fingers touched. Since when did a man’s hands on her feel like heaven? It was like they had some otherworldly, electrical connection.
She lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it away. Clothes started flying. A bra here, jeans there, panties, boxers.
Then they were skin to skin, magical. Every touch was pure bliss. The lack of space, and height, nothing mattered.
No one had ever elicited such reactions from her. Each kiss, each stroke, each caress set off sparks in a chain reaction. Grant ignited fuses she didn’t know were there, milking pleasure from her flesh so intense that she had no idea if anything would live up to it again.
His fingers dug into her hips as he guided them over his, controlling every stroke, every thrust, until they built to a masterful precipice and exploded in ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her, paralyzing her.
The moment they broke apart, they looked at each other, eyes wild, chests heaving.
Niki had no idea if her voice still worked, if any of her still worked. She’d never been so wonderfully, blissfully spent.
Grant pressed a kiss to her forehead. “All these years, I thought my grandmother was making up that legend about Mill’s Pond Bridge.”
Niki laughed and settled against his side. “Now we know the truth.” The truth was that she and Grant shared a connection that she couldn’t deny, a bond that she’d never experienced with any other man. And it confused the hell out of her.