“Henrietta, don’t get your hopes up,” Rory chides, shaking a finger at one of the birds. “Wyatt isn’t touching you again tonight, you’re in there till the morning, missy.”
A ruffle of feathers, the flapping of some wings, and the birds all disappear in what almost sounded like a huff back into their playground of sorts.
“She’s such a spoiled thing,” Rory tsks. “Obsessed with my husband.”
“That so?” Wyatt asks, slinking up behind her, his stubble grazing her cheek as his arms cage around her middle. “That makes three of the ladies in this house then.”
Rory rolls her eyes, pats his cheek, and takes off again, leaving him standing there as she leads the way to the wooden table and benches.
It’s hard not to gawk at their yard. It’s so big it must be measured in acres. Actually, I think this might qualify as a park. The grassy lawn is obnoxiously green, a patch of wildflowers at the far end lending a sweet aroma to the warm evening air, allhemmed in by the thick woods of their own private forest. I’ve never seen anything like it back in Minnesota, that’s for sure. It’s straight out of a storybook.
Makes me wish I could show my mom. Her tulips did come in gorgeous this year, just last week she sent the pictures, but she would lose her mind over the greenery and wildflowers here.
Not to mention the house itself, which is completely dreamy. Even more so when Rory told me the story all about it.
These Grady men are something else.
My very own Grady man (the best one, and it’s not even close) comes running up behind me, catching up to me and taking my hand, escorting me to the table. The bucket of ice and beers in his handthunksdown onto the wooden planks of the table and he straddles the bench, patting his lap with a cheek-splitting grin in my direction.
“Are you serious?” I whisper through my teeth. “Your whole family is here.”
“Not mywholefamily,” he says. “My mom, stepdad, dad, and stepmom aren’t here. Yet.”
My eyes fly open, wider than before, and he laughs. “Just playin’ darlin’. They won’t be here tonight. Just sit down.”
I let him goad me into it, plopping down across his thighs, the sundress Rory brought me back from her trip to New York dusting my upper thighs as I sit. I gasped when I saw the box with my name on it at Weston’s the night the brothers made up. It’s almost white in color, with small pink flowers, thin straps across the shoulders, and some detail around the bust that is incredibly flattering. If this is the kind of stuff she finds there, I can understand why she goes so often. I love my cozy cropped tees, but this makes me feel a kind of beautiful that’s unfamiliar to me. Several levels above being comfortable in my own skin, this outfit demands that I’m celebrated.
Wyatt, Rory, and her stepfather are in and out of the house, setting the table, while Weston and I sit outside, and guilt claws at my insides.
“Should we be helping?”
“Nah,” he says, ease radiating from his relaxed pose. “You’re a first-timer tonight. That gets you guest status.”
The twitch of his lips makes my insides churn for different reasons.
“And you?” I ask.
“I’m showing you the ropes,” he says, sliding a hand up my bare thigh, fingertips brushing the inside of my leg and causing an instant reaction just a bit north. Squirming on his lap, his eyes heat in warning.
“Careful, darlin’. You’re about to start something you might not want me to finish here at the table.”
“Well don’t turn me on then,” I mutter back to him, as footsteps traipse across the lawn, grass rustling. A dragonfly darts across the yard to stay safe, but I’m stuck right here, seated on a lap I’ve ridden so many times in the last few weeks, muscle memory alone is threatening to take over for me.
“You’re one to talk,” he says, eyes trained on my breasts, practically poking him in the eye from this angle. “So fucking hot in this thing I can barely sit here with my hands to myself. Gonna spend this entire meal planning out every single thing I’m gonna do to you when we get ho?—”
Weston doesn’t get to finish his sentence because I clap a hand over his mouth when Lexi and Rory are within hearing distance.
He mumbles against my hand, and the girls laugh as they approach.
“We have that problem too,” Rory says with a knowing look.
Alexis tries to cover up the longing with a roll of her eyes—her go to—but I catch it and feel a twinge of empathy formaking her feel lonely with my happiness. It’s the way I’ve felt everywhere I’ve gone up until now, and I know the unfairness of it well.
You never want to make other people feel bad for finding their joy, but after long enough, every sultry look between lovers becomes a stab in the heart.
If only she knew that my joy is only temporary. That if my secret comes out I’d be run out of town, and forgive me, I’m just trying to enjoy this while I can.
Weston winks at me when I finally pull my hand back before leaning in to press a soft kiss to the side of my throat, on the delicate spot where it joins my shoulder. I try to hide the chills it gives me, but I don’t think I get away with it.
