“Grace, I love you. Fuck it, I’m so in love with you. I can’t imagine you not being in my life. In my bed. Stay with me,” I practically begged.
Without a word, Grace pressed up on her toes and kissed me like no one was watching, and I didn’t give a fuck if they were. I had my girl in my arms, and I was never letting her go.
“I love you, too, Cole,” she murmured as tears streamed down her cheeks. I wiped them away with my thumbs before kissing her again.
“Never gonna get tired of hearing that, sweetheart,” I promised her.
“Cole?”
“Yeah?”
“Take me home,” Grace commanded, leaping into my arms.
I caught her without flinching, and when her legs wrapped around my waist I almost cheered. I held the most precious thing in my world in my grasp and I was never letting her go. Grace was staying and I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.
As we strode toward the B&B, Georgia called out, “We’ll sort out the details later. Welcome home, Grace.”
“Holy fuck.” Grace gasped in my hands which had me freezing where I stood.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m … I’m …”
“Sweetheart, you’re killing me here,” I pleaded her out.
“I’m home. I’m home in Wattle Creek.”
The smile split my cheeks. “Yeah, you are. You’re home, and you’re mine,” I confirmed, kissing her deeply as I increased my pace on a beeline to the truck ignoring the cat calls and cheers from what was left of the guests.
I’d just got Grace settled into the passenger seat and slipped behind the wheel when she reached for my hand.
“Cole?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“About that baby goat …”
I chuckled. This woman had my balls in her purse and me wrapped around her little finger and I couldn’t be happier.
“Sweetheart, I’ll buy you a whole damn petting zoo if it makes you smile like that,” I assured her, leaning over and kissing her again.
“Cole, take me home,” Grace told me, and I wasn’t about to question the lady's motives. All I could think about was tying her to my headboard and showing her exactly how happy I was that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Chapter twenty-seven
Epilogue - Grace
Ilasted three nights.
It was ridiculous, I know, but it wasn’t my fault. It was Cole’s fault.
Gabriella and I were on shift tonight and it had been a doozy. We had a couple who were late arriving and missed dinner. In fact, by the time they finally arrived we’d already locked up for the night and changed into our pajamas. We’d been sitting in the kitchen, sipping hot chocolate and going over the plan for tomorrow when they’d banged on the door.
I’d gone to meet them only to be reprimanded for my attire. After showing them to their room, they asked what time theirdinner was being served. I’d explained that they’d missed dinner, and the kitchen was closed, but offered to prepare them a cheeseboard and coffee.
“A cheeseboard and coffee is not a meal,” the snotty-nosed lady informed me.
I spent five minutes trying to explain that given the hour, it was a cheeseboard and coffee or a bowl of Cheerios. Her husband threatened to take his business to another hotel and when I invited them to, all their bravado deflated.
