He grabs my chin between his thumb and finger and brings my eyes back to his. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Em. I never would have thought you’d wear something like this. But now that I’ve seen it, it suits you so much better than what you usually wear. It’s so you, Bunny.”
The name hits me in the chest, making it beat harder. The closeness he’s created between us makes it hard for me tobreathe. My eyes widen slightly when I realize none of his words were insulting or mocking in any way. He doesn’t care what I wear or think differently of me because of it. It’s strange, this feeling, to have someone accept you for who you are without judgment.
The last person who saw me in vintage clothing was my mother. I was twelve at the time and had bought my very own first vintage dress. When my mother caught me wearing it in my room, she forced me to get changed immediately and said she would not let me embarrass her by wearing dirty rags.
The dress was beautiful, but all she saw was something old. The next day she took my dress and threw it away while I was in school, making sure I could never get it back. Since that day, I’ve kept my love of vintage to myself and only allowed myself to wear my collection in private.
I nod slowly, unsure how else to respond to him. Something has changed between Greyson and me over the short time I’ve been here. I can’t put my finger on it, but I can feel it. With every day that passes, we get to know one another better. But there’s still so much mystery when it comes to Greyson.
A mystery I think I’d like to discover.
Needing some distance, I take a step back and bring my hand with me, forcing him to let go of my wrist. “Thank you.” I offer him a tight smile and turn my back to him. Over in the kitchen, I spot a package I had left there for him. “Ooh! I got you something while I was shopping!”
I hop over to the counter and pick up the gift in my hands, twirling back toward Greyson, who comes to stand before me. I thrust the package at him, waiting until he holds it securely before letting go.
“Open it! Open it!” I bounce on my toes with excitement, impatient to see his reaction.
He takes the tape off the top of the box, then opens the flaps before putting his hand inside and pulling out an object surrounded by bubble wrap. He places the packaging down and carefully peels off the wrapping, revealing a large pink mug.
I giggle with my hand over my mouth as I watch his frown grow. He turns it over to see the front of the mug and is greeted with a 3D bunny face sticking out of the middle, with two bunny ears that stretch out over the rim and fall back down.
His face transforms with a mixture of expressions, finishing with him rolling his lips together and fighting a smile I know wants to break free.
“Damn it!” I say, more to myself.
He looks up with a smile in his eyes. He might be able to contain his mouth from reacting, but his eyes say everything. “What?”
“I’ll get a smile out of you someday, Ford. You can keep fighting it, but it will happen. Mark my words.”
That sexy twitch happens again as he raises his eyebrows. “If you say so.” I roll my eyes at his words and walk away, going back to Gracie.
If I have to buy a new silly mug every week to get a smile out of him, then that’s what I’ll do. Game on, Greyson. Game on.
Chapter eight
Emma
I miss you, Grandpa.
~ Three Weeks Later / Mid-December ~
“Come on, Little Tulip. Time for bed. Daddy’s going to be up in a minute to say goodnight.” I carry Gracie from her private bathroom into her room after a fun bath of blowing bubbles at each other.
I put a new diaper on her bum and zip her into a cute beige pajama onesie with mini giraffes all over. Then I sit in therocking chair by the window and lay her in my arm with her last bottle for the night.
It makes four nights in a row that she hasn’t woken up at an ungodly hour for a feed. Greyson and I both woke up out of habit at 3:00a.m. the first night and rushed over to Gracie’s room, thinking we had somehow missed her hunger cries. When we found her sound asleep, we were both shocked and had no idea what to do.
Greyson ended up calling Silas in the middle of the night to know if it was okay to let her sleep or if he should wake her to drink. Silas reassured him that it was perfectly normal and that it was a good thing if she was starting to sleep through the night. I had told him the same, but he didn’t seem to trust my judgment.I get it, it’s his baby girl.
I pick up a storybook from the shelf beside me and begin to read a story about a princess finding her prince to my Little Tulip.
Greyson shows up by the door ten minutes later, arms crossed at the chest, leaning against the frame as he observes us. Gracie is already sound asleep as I place the book down. He walks over and takes her from my arms, kissing the top of her head and setting her down in her crib.
We stand by the entrance of her room, watching her sleep from a distance, each on either side of the open door.
“You’re really good with her. How?” he asks.
I smile at his question. “I used to babysit my neighbor’s kids when I was still living at home. She had a set of five-year-old twins and a newborn. It wasn’t always easy with the older ones full of energy and a baby who needed constant attention. But I finally got the hang of it after a few days. Let’s just say my craziness came in handy with those two rascals.”
