When they climbed into the bed—hers was only a full, so this felt huge—she found herself hoping this cabin wasn’t rented very often. Because, despite only being here a few hours, it felt even more comfortable than her apartment.
Grayson lay on his back, letting her choose the sleeping position. Curling next to him, she wrapped her arm around his waist, resting her head on his chest, which she decided was the world’s greatest pillow.
“Good night, Gray,” she said softly.
“Sweet dreams, little bird.”
Those four words wove their way around her fading consciousness. And for the first time in a long time, she fell asleep certain that was exactly what her dreams would be.
Sweet.
Chapter Twenty
Grayson twirled Wren on the dance floor, loving the way she laughed with pure delight. It had been a month since the two of them spent their first night together at the Nook, and each day since, he swore he’d seen her come more…well…alive. She was positively vibrant these days, vivacious. Gone was the quiet librarian who tried to blend into the background. Not that she was giving her sister a run for her money, by any means, but she wasn’t imitating the invisible woman, the way she had that night at the Harvest Dance.
And he wasn’t the only one to notice. Lark had pulled him aside an hour earlier, after Wren had excused herself to go to the restroom. She’d walked up to him, punched him in the arm fondly—and then shocked the hell out of him when she gave him a huge hug, whispering, “Thank you,” in his ear.
Grayson knew exactly what she was thanking him for, and when the embrace ended, he looked her straight in the eye and gave her the words back. “Thank you,” he repeated. “For that night.”
It had taken a second for Lark to understand which night. Then her eyes grew wet, before she shrugged in true McCoy-sister style—neither of the twins could accept compliments without getting embarrassed—and walked away.
Wren had caught the end of the exchange, asking him what he and Lark were talking about. All he said was they’d come to a new understanding.
Wren, the gorgeous smart-ass, said, “Does that mean you’re no longer grumpy and she’s no longer annoying?”
Grayson had chuckled and told her it was something like that.
They’d woken up early this morning and gotten ready for Maverick and Ella’s wedding together in what he was now calling their cabin. Wren had convinced him the name Nook was a lot nicer than cabin seven, so he’d conformed. He had to admit it was starting to feel like they had chiseled out their own little nook in the world whenever they stayed there.
Which admittedly was more often than not. He wasn’t sure exactly when Everett had taken the cabin off the website as a rental option, but when it went unrented for two straight weeks, he started to realize something was up. Mainly because it had been one of their more popular rentals, despite the fact it was quite high on the mountain and off the beaten track.
When he expressed his surprise that it hadn’t been rented for Thanksgiving week, Everett just looked at him, winked, and said, “You’re welcome.” That was when Grayson went to the site and realized what his brother had done.
He’d told his brother it wasn’t necessary to delist the cabin—after all, it was a source of income for the family. And Everett confessed it was their mom’s request that he take it off. She was a huge fan of all her boys settling down on the farm, and if doing so meant they had one less cabin to rent to guests, then so be it. And now that Kasi was expecting—and possibly Mila, if Remi’s suspicion was true—they’d created a greedy monster in his mother. Because now, she wanted ALL the grandchildren she could get.
Grayson tugged Wren close before spinning her to Bob Seger’s “Old Time Rock and Roll.” When he reeled her in again, she rested her hands on his chest.
“I’m getting dizzy,” she said, laughing. “God. Today has been so much fun.”
“Apparently, my family knows how to throw one hell of a wedding,” he said, delighted to hear she was having fun. “Levi’s was off the charts too.”
When the music first started, Grayson had expected to spend the night sitting on the sidelines with Wren, well away from the packed dance floor. Not that he would have minded at all.
Instead, he’d been surprised and pleased when she asked if he wanted to do the chicken dance with her, admitting she’d never done it before and that she thought it looked fun. After that, they remained on the floor as Wren convinced him to participate in every single line dance.
Despite Remi’s best efforts to guide them through the steps, they’d both been disasters, trying to keep up, bumping into each other. Wren apparently struggled with left and right, because she was always sliding the wrong direction, and it was funny as hell. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun.
When the song ended, a slow one, “Die with a Smile,” started next. Grayson pulled Wren into his arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head as she curled against him.
Ever since the night she’d told him about her uncle, it was as if every hurdle, every wall, simply fell. Not that she’d overcome her fears. She still struggled with crowds, but she was more open to pushing her boundaries, as her presence on the dance floor tonight proved.
Grayson might have also developed a bit of an obsession when it came to finding nightlights for her. He’d found an adorable one that now sat on the nightstand in the Nook, depicting a silly duck lying on its side. In the living room, he’d plugged in one that appeared to have rainbow-colored mushrooms growing out of it. In the bathroom, there was a glowing owl. Every time he gifted her a new light, Wren immediately found the perfect place for it in the cabin.
She still suffered the occasional nightmare, but, according to her, there were a lot fewer than before he’d taken up residence next to her in bed. She swore it was because with him sleeping next to her, she felt safe. Being able to provide that for the woman he loved made him feel, well, to quote his grandfather, ten feet tall and bulletproof.
They still limited their sexual positions to ones where Wren was either on top or unconfined by him. His girl was a huge fan of doggie style. There weren’t too many flat surfaces in her apartment, the Nook, and, once, even her desk in the library, that he hadn’t bent her over and had his wicked way with her.
Despite her initial fears, Wren had taken to sex like a fish to water, and his woman was determined to make up for lost time. A few days ago, he’d considered crying uncle for a night because his dick was actually sore. Of course, he forgot all about the pain when Wren walked out of the bathroom in a new, sexy nightgown. Er…sleep shirt, he thought, grinning to himself.
