“Gracie,” he says my name like a prayer, his lips still on mine. Warmth curls through my chest, sliding lower and lower as I scratch my nails against the best of his neck, pressing myself as close as I can physically get.
Braxton pulls back, burying his face against my neck. His lips are wet, his breath hot, and I shiver, arousal pooling low in my body.
“Fuck, Rumpel. I never thought…” There’s a tremor in his muffled voice, a thread of emotion that steals my breath. “I never thought I’d be holding you like this again.”
“Me neither,” I confess.
“You make it damn hard to walk away,” Braxton grumbles playfully, nipping my neck, making me yelp. “But I’m sticking to my guns.” He pulls back, staring into my eyes, his own glazed with love and heat. “Tell me we’re going on another date.”
“Right now?”
“Right now,” he says firmly.
I furrow my brow, pretending to think. “I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to wait three days to call? This seems pretty forward of you.”
“Gracie…” he warns. “Don’t make me—” His fingers go to my ribs, the threat clear, and I wriggle back.
“Okay, okay. No need for drastic measures,” I rush out. “You get a second date.”
“Good.” Braxton’s shoulders sink, like he was actually worried I was going to turn him down. “Your birthday is in two weeks. That’s our next date.”
“Two weeks—” I start to protest, but he cuts me off with a firm look.
“Two weeks,” he says again. “And I’ll be here every dayto see you, and we have our weekly dinner with my parents.”
I blow out a breath, jerking my chin down in a nod. “Fine. Two weeks.”
Braxton trails his knuckles over my cheeks, his smile wide. “Thank you, baby.” He leans down to press another lingering kiss to my mouth, leaving me breathless. “You won’t regret this.”
CHAPTER 39
Braxton
The door opens as soon as I pull into the driveway, and Gracie steps through it. She’s styled her honey-brown hair into loose curls, half of it pinned back, and a sundress dances playfully around her thighs. There’s a bright smile on her face, and I cut the engine, the air freezing in my lungs as our eyes lock.
I never thought she would look at me like this again, like I am someone worthy of her smiles. The last few weeks have been a revelation in what I lost over the last eight months. I knew, but having Gracie let me back into her life really hammered it home, making me even more aware of how I self-destructedus.
This chance Gracie’s giving me…It feels delicate, like I could crush it in my fist with barely a thought. But I won’t screw it up. Not when I know what the world feels like without her love. Not when I know the feeling of watching her with another man, giving him the smiles she used to give me.
It’s taken me a lot of reflection—and talks with Stevie—to come to terms with the role Nolan played in Gracie’s life and her healing after the damage I wrought. It mightalways be a sticking point for me, but I don’t hold Gracie’s choices against her…Not when she made them because I tore the rug, floor, and foundation all out from under her feet.
Her brow creases, her smile dimming, making me realize how long I’ve been sitting here, unmoving. I swallow past the tightness in my throat and get out of the truck, reaching back for the bouquet of daffodils, irises, and tulips. I keep the flowers low by my side as I round the hood, Gracie stepping down the front walk to meet me.
“Hey—” Her words cut off when she catches sight of the flowers, her eyes widening. “You got me flowers?”
“Happy birthday, Rumpel,” I murmur. “You look fucking fantastic.” I press the flowers into her hands, smiling when she immediately puts them to her face, inhaling deeply. “I figured not many people buy the florist flowers. Bridget helped me.”
Gracie’s still staring at the flowers, her lashes hiding her eyes. A beat passes, another, and then her head slowly lifts, wet eyes shining as she looks at me. “Thank you.” Her voice is husky with emotion, and, careful of crushing the bouquet, I loop my arms around her waist and pull her into me.
“No tears,” I grumble. “Otherwise, I’ll take them back.”
She lets out a choked giggle. “I don’t think anyone has ever gotten me flowers before.”
“A mistake I’ll keep rectifying,” I tell her. “But I was thinking something more permanent might be in order.”
“More permanent?” she asks curiously.
I nod, humming thoughtfully, a hand stroking down her back, keeping her tucked in close. “I was thinking I could get you a plant or a tree.” I turn my head to the side, eyes on the house.
