On the other side of me, he’s no longer watching the movie. Instead, he’s watching me, intent and focused in a way I’m not sure I’m ready for. Clearly, he can sense something in me has shifted. It’s why I put my hand on his leg, and I couldn’t be happier he read me right and reciprocated.
But this? The way he’s sliding his thumb along the curve of my neck and shoulder? It makes me shiver and press my thighs together.
“This okay?”
His breath coasts across my ear and some part of me feels his deep voice in my chest even though that doesn’t make sense because he’s whispered to keep from drawing the girls’ attention.
I dare to look at him, finding his stunning blue eyes looking so full of desire and purpose, my insides melt into the couch. “Yes.”
Yes, it’s okay that he’s sitting so close. Yes, it’s okay that he’s touching me.Yes, I think I’ll say yes to everything with you from now on.
There should be alarm bells going off now, but the switch flipped on the phone with Evie, and I don’t think there’s any going back. Weirdly, seeing him shoving all my lingerie back into the box under my bed helped, too. Yes, it was embarrassing on one level, but he didn’t shame me for it.
I’m not sure it’ll make sense to anyone, but for me, that fancy collection of pretty matching sets and some racier things was hopeful. I collected them slowly, an indulgence Icould wear on my body and take with me, reminding me I was worth clothing and taking care of whether I was scrubbing toilets or taking night classes at the community college or something else I worked toward.
I never wore them with Andrew, though. One would think they’d come into perfect use in a marriage, but for some reason, it felt too vulnerable to wear those brightly colored sets I’d paid for. They weren’t La Perla or anything luxurious, but I liked the pretty colors and designs I thought were sexy. They were for me, and even after he came on the scene, I realized that’s how they would stay.
Watching Grant Ryan on his knees scooping up the rainbow that is my lingerie collection with red cheeks and utter mortification carved into his brow should’ve made me want to shrivel up and die, and yes, part of me did. But he was so matter-of-fact, no shaming or digging or even leering. And I laughed.
It was during the laughing I realized I might like to wear some of those things with someone like him.
No.Notlikehim.
Justhim.
Aaaaaand the reality of my year-plus without much affection, let alone love or physical intimacy, has clearly left me starved. This isn’t exactly a surprise, but I’m glad we have our little-people buffer because I feel my self-control is threadbare at best.
At some point, Mr. Bingley hopped up and settled between the two girls. Their eyes were wide and Poppy had to scrunch her eyes closed and silent scream to contain herself. She’s learned quickly that he won’t stick around if she gets too excited and I love seeing her adapt so well.
The credits roll a while later and as soon as Poppy andLily shift, their kitty blanket hops down and saunters off for a stretch and a snack.
“Did you see? He slept on us for almost the whole movie!” Poppy’s eyes are absolutely shining and her cheeks are pink.
“I love him so much.” Lily hasn’t been this vocal about liking him, but she has this peace about her now that makes me want to hug her.
“I’m so glad he had a chance to snuggle you guys. I’m sure he was in heaven.” Just like me.
“It’s the longest Pops has sat still in recent memory, and I’m sure we have Mr. Bingley to thank for that.” Grant slides his arm from behind me, dragging his fingers along my shoulders as he goes.
I shiver, which is becoming a pattern, and haul myself off the couch. It was so warm and cozy there next to him, I almost want to ask them about a double feature. But I can already see Poppy winding up, energy beginning to burst out of her.
“Thank you for having us, Miss Sam.” Lily gives me a soft smile.
“Yeah, thank you. I love you.” Poppy launches herself at me, hugs me around the legs hard enough she nearly lifts me off my feet, then scampers back to the door. “Can we go, Daddy?”
His quiet laugh is low and delighted. “Yes. Time to get home.”
His blue gaze shifts to me and my pulse pounds at my temple and my neck.
“We’ll talk soon.” It’s not a question.
“Yes.” My agreement is the only option. I wouldn’t want another one.
Things changed between us tonight, and I’m not madabout it. But I know it’s not fair to leave him wondering what that was—why did I invite and accept his attention like that when I’d been so certain I didn’t want to date him just weeks ago?
As the girls chatter down the stairs and he gives me one last small lift of his chin before he closes the outer garage door, I savor their company. When I shut the door and sigh at the empty bowl of popcorn and the indentations on the couch, I smile to myself.
I already miss them. But not because I need them to fill the space and let me avoid thinking about who I am and what I want. It’s because I’m figuring those things out and realizing I have room for more. And part of what I want, I think, is Grant Ryan, and everything that comes with him.
