four
. . .
Gracie
Everything had changedin a matter of seventy-two hours.
I’d packed up my failed life in Paris and flown to Blue Sky Bay, a town that felt like a second home to me. It was where Cutler lived, and about an hour out of the city, so I spent a lot of time here. He lived in a ranch-style house in walking distance of the quaint downtown. His lot sat on the edge of Blue Sky Lake, with views of the water and the mountains in the distance. There was a peacefulness here, similar to where I’d grown up in Cottonwood Cove.
And right now, this was what I needed.
“I’m so happy we’re here,” I said as we pulled into Cutler’s garage. It had been a long flight.
I wanted a hot bath and a good night’s sleep.
“Me too. And I want you to make yourself comfortable. My home is your home, you know that, right?” he said before getting out of his truck as I unbuckled myself.
He’d left his truck at the airport when he’d flown to Paris, and seeing as we’d arrived home in the middle of the night, I was grateful we hadn’t had to ask anyone for a ride.
“Thanks. I really appreciate it, Bear. It’s good to be home,” I said when he pulled my door open. I was tired and jet-lagged and moving slowly, which of course he’d picked up on. When I started to climb out, his large hands moved to my waist, and he lifted me out of the truck. The smell of sandalwood and cedar flooded my senses as he set me down. I glanced up, taking in his dark, slightly disheveled hair and his sleepy eyes under the dim lighting in his garage. He tilted his head to the side when he realized I was staring at him.
“You okay?” he asked, and my fingers itched to rake across the scruff peppering his jaw.
“Yes.” I shook my head and smiled. “Just a little jet-lagged.”
He nodded and moved to the back of the truck, and I followed before he shooed me away. “I’ve got it.”
We went inside, and he stopped in the kitchen and grabbed us each a bottle of water from the fridge. He leaned against the island and handed one to me.
My best friend was tall, with broad shoulders. He was easily the best-looking man I’d ever laid eyes on.
He had more sex appeal than any one man should be allowed.
He also had the personality to go along with it. He was charming and funny and flirty by nature.
Women loved him.
Men loved him.
Kids loved him.
Adults loved him.
Cutler Heart was pure magic.
Always had been.
I’d been drawn to him from the first time I met him.
He’d always made me feel safe and loved and—special.
I reached for the bottle, his fingers grazing mine as I took it from him.
“Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m too tired to eat. Do you care if I take a bath before I go to bed?” I asked.
“Jeege. What did I say?”
