I find the remote and turn off the TV. It’s only nine, but I don’t want to presume he wants me to stay any longer. He might be sick of me.
Though I’m a long way from being tired of him.
We enjoyed another hour just the two of us, then called the LAPD about the violation of the protective order, then went to pick up the girls. It wasn’t hard to move past the incident because I decided last night I wasn’t going to let Andrew steal any more from me. Not another moment, and so I checked the box on dealing with the problem and let myself move on. It might be one of the best things I’ve done for myself, save moving here to Juniper View and all that has meant.
Mary and Connor gave us matching pleased grins when we arrived together and though they didn’t say anything verbally, they might as well have been shouting in victory when Grant mentioned we were going to have a picnic lunch out by the barn.
The girls did shout and then scampered around for a full five minutes before we could corral them back home and get ready for our picnic.
The four of us packed lunches filled with mini sandwiches, baby carrots and cucumber slices, and a few other items for the horses. When we reached the barn, the girls bolted to greet them. Grant knew I was nervous, but he was his patented patient, thoughtful self and helped me properly greet them.
We ate, we laughed, we ran around and played freeze tag and duck, duck, goose, and we watched spring clouds amble by while imagining stories for each of their shapes.
The whole day has felt like a dream, and I’m trying not to dread the waking. I straighten up the blankets we used and toss them into the basket full of cozy things at one end of the couch, then set the remote where I now know it goes. A second later, I hear Grant quietly descend the stairs and enter the room, eying me with confusion.
“They get to bed okay?” I know they have, but I am suddenly keenly aware I’m not sure what happens now and it’s made me nervous.
Should I already be at the door? Have I overstayed my welcome by being here until the girls fall asleep? I don’t think so, but what do I know? Usually, he comes to me, or we sit outside after the girls are asleep, or we simply text each other this time of night. I’m never here, getting a glimpse into the simple intimacies of his single dad life.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay there?” He walks directly to me and takes my purse from my hand, an all too familiar scowl on his face.
I hide my grin because this bossy grump would’ve infuriated me months ago, but now I’ll admit I kind of like it.
“You need to go?”
He’s still studying me, and my humor shifts.
“I—no. I just wasn’t sure if…” My cheeks burn and I feel tired. “I don’t know what to do now.”
He tosses my purse on the couch and cups my face in his hands in that way that says he has nothing else to do and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than to simply stay right here withme.
“I want to spend more time together, just you and me. Thought we could watch a movie and cuddle on the couch if you’re up to it. But I know today has been a lot, so if it’s too much, say the word.”
“It’s not. I’d love to stay.”
“Good. I want as much of you as I can get. And tomorrow I work, and so do you, so even though it’s going to mean I go to bed late, I want a little more time.”
My heart cracks open at his words. Such simple words, but they have the power to make or break things. And rightnow, they’re making everything right. “That’s perfect. Yes, please.”
So we stay cuddled on the couch sharing a blanket. He kisses me once, softly, then a little more, until he pulls away and shakes his head at himself. “Can’t keep up with that or we’ll end up in trouble.”
I know what he means. We’ve had a perfect day with the girls, and I don’t want them waking up to find us in a situation that would traumatize them. I want more of Grant, but the beauty here is, it’s not only physical. It’s not only desire and need, but a deep sense of contentment and peace and rightness with him.
It’s love.
As wild as it is to acknowledge that, I can’t pretend it’s anything else. Nor would I want it to be.
When I do leave, it’s reluctantly, but also with the assurance that we’ll see each other tomorrow, and we’ll make plans for the next time we both have a day off, and I’ve promised I’ll join him and the rest of the Ryan crew for Friday night dinner.
I walk home under the pitch-black sky glinting with glittering stars and I am full, grateful, and happy.
And there’s only a tiny part of me that thinks it’s all too good to be true.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Grant
The usual drag I experience when driving to my parents’ house on a Friday evening is nowhere to be found tonight.
