I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I can’t seem to find the will to stop. Grayson is right there, working, unaware of my actions. I’ve wanted him for so long it hurts. Every inch of my body has missed him.
Skating my hand down my stomach and into my panties, I seek out the swollen bud of my clit. A tremor runs through me at the first swipe of my finger, and I press my lips together to keep my moan contained.
I grip the rock in front of me, and my eyes flutter closed before I force them open again. Back onto Grayson.
When he stills, so do I, my body tensing as he looks down the track and an ATV comes into view. A wave of guilt rushes through me, and I remove my hand from my panties and turn away from the scene.
It doesn’t matter that I haven’t slept with anyone in years, or that my feelings for Grayson are still there and just as strong as they were twelve years ago. None of that matters. That was so beyond inappropriate.
There isn’t any way that I can go to Sunday dinner after what I’ve just done. There’s no way I can look him in the eye and pretend I didn’t touch myself as he worked.
I came home to find myself.
Not to fall apart at the feet of the man whose heart I already broke once. The same one who broke mine right back.
8
GRAYSON
A cocktail of trepidation and exhaustion makes every step I take feel heavy and forced as I follow Kade and Wyatt into the house. I kept us out in the pastures for longer than needed, anything to put off coming back to the inevitable of finding Avery in my home. Integrating herself back into the life I’ve built for myself.
If I had my way, I’d have skipped dinner and stayed out until I knew she was gone. The very prospect of seeing her in my house and being left with the memory of this version of her feels too much to bear.
I hate that Avery’s back in town and being so easily accepted back into the lives of my family, despite our history. Not a single one of them can pretend they don’t know what she did or how broken I was when she left. And yet they have no qualms about inviting her to family dinner.
For over a decade, I’ve worked hard trying to forget her, and although her scent faded over time, my memory of her took far too long to do the same. What I hate most, though, is how I’ve never found someone that made me burn for them like I did for her. It’s like nobody could ever compare.
Laughter fills the air, mingling with the scent of fresh bread as I cross the threshold. Wyatt and Kade are ahead of me, filling the narrow hallway as they head for the kitchen at the back of the house. I wanted to shower, get cleaned up, and give myself a pep talk, but I doubt I’ll have time for it now, given how late it is.
In the kitchen, Wyatt makes a beeline for the refrigerator, pulling out three bottles of beer and twisting off the caps. He hands one to Kade and the other to me.
“You’re late,” Mom scolds, pulling a dish of buttered corn on the cob from the warmer.
Wyatt chucks his thumb over his shoulder toward me. “You can blame Gray for that. He kept finding things for us to do that could have waited until tomorrow.”
Kade shrugs before taking the dishcloth and corn dish from Mom and walking out back to the yard, where I assume the others are. After a brief silent stare-down with Mom, Wyatt follows suit, leaving me behind to deal with the sympathy and reproach shining in her eyes.
Georgia Wilde is the matriarch of our family, and as much as everyone would say that my dad, or even I, built our legacy to what it is today, they would be wrong. Every step my father took, he took with my mother’s input. Although she has stepped back since I took over, she’s always there when I need someone to bounce ideas off. She knows Heartlands better than anyone; even me.
That’s not to say that she doesn’t like to stick her nose in other business that should be of no concern to her. Case in point, my love life is always a subject she’ll gladly give her opinion on, even when it’s not welcome. I love her with all my heart, but if she’s about to jump on the same bandwagon as my siblings, I won’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth.
With my focus on her, I take a long, slow pull on my beer, waiting for her to speak.
Her features soften, and she turns to put the bowl of salad on the counter before crossing the room to take hold of my hand. “I won’t say anything more than be nice, Grayson. Your father and I raised you with manners, and I’d like to see them tonight. Regardless of how you feel about her, Avery is our guest.”
There’s only one correct response to her statement. “Yes, ma’am,” I reply, even as my nostrils flare. When she continues to stare at me, I pull on the front of my dust-covered shirt and add, “I’m going to get washed up.”
She inhales deeply, pursing her lips once she’s emptied her lungs. “Don’t be too long, dinner’s nearly ready, and you know what Wyatt’s like when it comes to grilling the steaks.”
Squeezing my hand, she releases me and picks up the bowl before disappearing through the screen door, leaving behind the scent of buttered corn and that quiet, grounding warmth only she can give.
I stay rooted to the spot. The quiet that surrounds me, even if it’s only for a second, is suddenly all-consuming.
Through the kitchen window, I can hear Gracie laughing, quickly followed by Kade hooting and hollering, and it’s the sound of my siblings enjoying themselves that pulls me back into the here and now.
Every muscle in my body is taut and ready to snap, and there’s only one person responsible for that. Avery fucking Blake. Why is she even here?
She got what she wanted—fame and fortune—so why is she back in Coldwater? It’s the question that keeps playing on my mind. She hasn’t stepped foot in this town for years, despite her parents still living here. So why now?
