Here With You Read online

  “Now that’s the greeting I’ve been looking for.” She swooped her niece up in her arms and twirled around. “You ready to have an Auntie and Sophie day today?”

  Sophie nodded, her ponytail bouncing, and wiggled to be put down.

  “You need to get dressed, sweetie. Aunt Grace will bring you to the library.”

  “I am dwessed.” Little sassy pants stuck her fists on her hips with a huff.

  Oh, she had some of her auntie in her for sure, even if they weren’t blood-related. Grace didn’t know how Sophie’s birth mom could have given her up so easily, just hours after she was born.

  “You’re not going to the library in your princess dress.”

  Sophie, in all her princess glory, spun around, her Cinderella blue dress swinging out in a big poof. “Auntie Gwace has a dwess on.”

  “Hey, princess.” Grace squatted in her heels, keeping her knees close so her pencil skirt wouldn’t rip, or slide up her thighs revealing her pink thong. A thong she’d hoped Brady would get a glimpse of later. “We’re going to stop at my apartment so I can change. I’m thinking leggings with a pretty top. Do you want to be twins with me? I bet you have a million leggings in your dresser drawers.”

  Sophie, deep in thought with the suggestion, stuck her tongue out to lick her lips. Staring straight in front of her at Hemmy’s back, she let out a loud gasp as if the light bulb went off over her head. Spinning on her pink polished toes, she ran off down the hall and banged on the gate at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I need up,” she called.

  “I’ve got this. You go... do what you need to do. Let me know when you want her home.”

  Her sister, seeming a bit stunned, nodded slowly. “Ooookaaay.” She scratched her head. “Getting her out of that dress is a surefire way to bring on a toddler meltdown. I’m impressed.”

  “We’re not out of the woods yet.”

  “She’s asking to go upstairs and change. That’s more progress than I’ve made in months.”

  Grace warmed at the first compliment her sister had given her. At least, the first one in a long, long time.

  “Should I bring her back here for a nap or see if she’ll sleep at my place?”

  “Naps are her specialty. You can ask where she wants to crash. But make sure she gets there before she’s out. If you wake her in the middle of a nap, she won’t go back down. And then those terrible three’s come out. They’re wicked.”

  “Noted.” Grace tipped her head when Sophie hollered again. “The princess calls.” She spun, not as gracefully as her niece, on her three-inch heels and went to turn a princess into a comfy toddler.

  An hour at the library, followed by a visit to the bookstore to see Ty’s mom, Celeste, and buy a new book, followed by a mac and cheese lunch at the Happy Clam, and a pedicure for two at the Sea Salt Spa, left Grace and Sophie exhausted.

  “Want to sleep at Auntie’s apartment?”

  “Mhm.” Sophie’s head nodded, but Grace wasn’t sure her niece was coherent enough to understand the question.

  Picking her up and placing her on her hip, Grace carried the now sleeping princess up the stairs to her apartment. Who needed cardio class when you had a toddler and two flights of stairs?

  Carefully, she unzipped Sophie’s coat, took off her hat, mittens, and boots, and rolled her over under the blankets. She slept in a toddler bed at home, but it wasn’t as high up as Grace’s bed. Not wanting to leave her alone, she shucked her shoes and slid under the covers to snuggle.

  Her leg vibrated, then chimed. Shit. She forgot to take her phone out of her pocket and turn it on silent. Reading the screen, her heart did a little pitter-patter. She clicked on the I can’t talk right now button and then scrolled over to her texts.

  Grace: I’m taking a nap with Sophie.

  Brady: Sounds like you’re still awake.

  Grace: I forgot to turn my phone off. Princess is out cold.

  Brady: Sorry to wake you. We can talk later. Dinner?

  Grace: It might be the three of us.

  Brady: As long as I can see you.

  And boom. There went her heart.

  Grace: It’s a date. Come over when you can.

  Brady: As you wish.

  She replied with a bunch of silly emojis.

  Sleep was out of the question now. She figured she’d see Brady tonight, but having it in writing, that he still wanted to be with her, was reassuring. Her book sat on her nightstand, unread. Normally the other women fell behind in their reading. With no life, no job, and no boyfriend, she’d had plenty of time to read in the past.

  Being the slacker of the group this month meant her life was turning around. Being too busy had never been a problem before for Grace. It made her feel... like an adult.

  Thumbing to her bookmark—only on chapter four—she focused on the words in front of her and read while the princess slept.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  WITH EACH DAY, HIS mother regained her strength, and then she’d have a chemo treatment and be set back again. Brady wanted to believe his mother’s cantankerous mood was from her illness and not because she didn’t like Grace.

  There was no reason not to. Grace bent over backward to help his family out and asked for nothing in return. As far as he knew, his mother had no reason not to like her.

  So the mood had to be from her illness.

  “I’ll be back in the morning.”

  “You’ve been spending most of your nights over there.” His mother gathered her blanket together at her neck and settled into the couch in front of the woodstove. “Your brother’s been getting up in the middle of the night to put wood on the fire. I’m sure he would like a good night’s sleep.”

  Carter was not the issue here. Could it be his mother was jealous? Maybe it had nothing to do with Grace and everything to do with another woman in his life. Brady mentally smacked himself for being so inconsiderate.

  He and Carter were all his mom had after their father passed away. Here she was, suffering through a terrible disease, and he was ditching her every night to get laid. No wonder she felt betrayed by him and Grace.

  “Mom,” he said gently, sitting on the coffee table across from her. “Are you okay?” He laid a hand on her knee and she avoided eye contact, staring at the blank television.

  “Of course I’m not okay. I have cancer.”

  “You have one more chemo treatment. You did really well with the last one. I can see the color coming back in your face, and you’ve had more energy lately.”

  “I’ve had to pick up the slack with you being gone all the time.”

  “Mom.” She’d never laid the guilty treatment on him. Ever.

  “Brady.” She covered her face with the quilt and wept.

  “It’s okay.” He soothed her the best he could, coming around the chair and hugging her tight. “It’s going to be okay, Ma.”

  She was scared, and one thing Dorothy Marshall did not like to show was tears and fear. She’d been the pillar of strength for their family even before their father died.

  “I’m sorry. That was,” she sniffed, “cruel.”

  “You’re going through a lot right now. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay.” She wiped her eyes with the quilt and looked up at him. Her nose and around her eyes were red and blotchy. She was frail and tired. Two words he’d never associated with her before. “You’ve given up your life for me for the past nineteen years. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

  “Mom.” He hugged her tighter. “Who says I’m going anywhere?” Other than to Grace’s at night, but that wasn't what she was referring to.

  “It’s my own fault. It’s what I wanted for you. To find a wife. Settle down. I didn’t think it would be someone like...”

  Brady craned his neck and clenched his jaw. His mother wouldn’t openly insult his girlfriend.

  “I don’t want you rushing into a relationship with her—anyone.”

  “I’m a thirty-six-year-
old man living at home with his mother and brother. I wouldn’t say I’m rushing into anything.”

  “You spend your nights... away.”

  “I could bring Grace back here, but wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that.” Even Carter, with his girlfriend of the month, had never brought a woman home for a sleepover.

  It wasn’t that Brady was embarrassed to be living with his mom—he looked at it as taking care of her—it was because he respected his mother too much.

  His mom shrunk into the quilt, letting it swallow her still-frail body. It had been two months since her diagnosis, and Christmas was only three days away. She’d want to make prime rib on Christmas Eve and an array of brunch dishes to eat all day long on Christmas.

  This year he hoped to have Grace join them at the table as well. Maybe even spend the night on Christmas Eve.

  But her parents were home, and she’d have her own family traditions. He hadn’t asked her what her plans were, and she hadn’t asked him. Between her days at her store and his working on the house with Ty, and the snow that seemed to only come during the evening hours, their time together consisted of late night sleepovers. He’d tried to reassure her she wasn’t a booty call, as she liked to call herself.

  It was always said with a flirtatious laugh and with her hands on his body. Their lovemaking was fun. They laughed, talked—sort of—played. It was a new sexual experience every night even though they never did anything kinky.

  There was no need.

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  Afraid he’d spoken his thoughts out loud, he released his arms from around his mom and sat down on the coffee table. “No?”

  “I’m not ready for you or Carter to have overnight guests. I know you’re both old enough, and God knows you two have been sexually active since—”

  Brady held up a hand. “We don’t need to have this conversation. I respect your home, Mom. Don’t worry about it.”

  “It would be nice if you were home in the mornings.” The guilt treatment again.

  It was hard as hell tugging himself away from Grace’s warm body and climbing out of her bed every morning at four o’clock. His internal clock wouldn’t let him sleep much later than that. But he wouldn’t mind challenging it or just cuddling with Grace in the morning.

  She slept like the dead, not stirring an inch when he left. Mornings weren’t her thing, she’d said a dozen times. And that was fine with him. Brady never needed a lot of sleep.

  Often he’d be up until almost midnight pricing out parts for the tractors, or seeds, or making budgets and working on the farm’s finances. And on stormy nights, sometimes he didn’t make it in at all trying to keep up with the snow. He could fully function on five hours sleep. Four if he had to.

  Sleeping Beauty, however, needed at least nine.

  “Are you getting up earlier? Usually, you’re still in your room at five.” If she was ready to start her day at the crack of dawn he’d come home earlier.

  “You come home at five?”

  “I’m not ignoring my responsibilities.”

  “I don’t want to be your responsibility.” She sniffed.

  “I didn’t mean you. You’re my mom. My only mom. I’m here for you twenty-four seven if you need me. You know that.” And he was. Mentally. Physically too, if that’s what she needed.

  Having a break from the responsibilities of the farm and his mom was a welcome change though. Grace and her apartment were a sort of refuge for him.

  No wonder his brother spent so many nights in women’s beds. There were many reasons, Brady was sure; escape and change of scenery were two.

  “The tractors are in good condition. I inspected them, changed the oil, cleaned out the—”

  “I’d never doubt your commitment to the farm.”

  There was more power in what was left unsaid. She questioned his commitment to her. His gut instinct had been right. His mother thought she was being replaced.

  “I love you, Mom. You know that, right?”

  She brought a wadded ball of tissues out from under the quilt and dabbed her eyes. “I know you do. You’re the best son a mother could ask for. I worry about you though. You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

  Some would say he’d been wearing layered long sleeves for too long. Never had a woman seen that heart. Only Grace.

  “You’re like your father. A good man. It doesn’t take much for a woman to fall in love with someone like you both. For her to forget what she wants in life and give up her dreams for him.”

  Him? As in her and his father? He’d never known anything but marital bliss between the two of them. His mother’s dreams had been to live on the farm as well, hadn’t they? For as long as Brady could remember, Dorothy Marshall was as much a representative of Marshall Farms as was Douglas Marshall.

  “Did you have other dreams? Dreams before you met Dad?”

  His mother’s eyes grew warm and sad at the same time. “Your father was everything a girl could dream of. And more. You are too, Brady. Be careful about stealing hearts. Make sure she’s not blinded by... you.”

  He wanted to argue that he wasn’t much to brag about. Low to middle class, uneducated beyond a high school diploma, still living at home, and running a farm that depended on fickle Maine weather to make a profit each year.

  If he insulted himself to her, he’d be insulting her as well.

  “You worry too much. Want me to help you to bed?”

  “No.” She wrapped the blanket tighter around her. “I can get there on my own. Feed the fire though, please?”

  Brady placed two more logs inside the stove and brushed off his jeans when he stood.

  “I love you, Ma.” He kissed the top of her head on his way out.

  He’d always thought his mother’s dream had been to live on the farm with his father and raise a family. Never once had he heard her speak of regret or throw the farm in his father’s face if they were arguing, which they rarely did.

  His parents’ marriage was a love story for the books. His mother’s parents weren’t part of their lives, and Brady and Carter grew to accept that when they were young.

  “My parents are too old to come up to Maine. They like their life in sunny Florida. Maybe someday we’ll visit them,” was the common reply their mother would give them when they asked about their grandparents.

  Their paternal grandmother died two weeks after Carter was born, and their grandfather passed away the summer before Brady started high school. There were distant aunts and uncles who would visit every few years, but no one close.

  Was that why his mother was so lonely now? Were there secrets she kept buried to keep her family happy?

  What were her dreams she gave up to have a family with his father?

  “I TOLD YOU NOT TO GET me anything.” Grace pushed Brady’s hand away. They’d filled themselves on prime rib at his house and drove to her parents’ house for Christmas Eve drinks and dessert.

  Mrs. Marshall had prepared the entire meal herself, with little help from Brady and Carter. Brady hadn’t picked up Grace until dinner was ready so she didn’t have to lift a finger.

  Now back at her apartment, stuffed from all the food, and a little bit tipsy from her family’s wine, Grace moved to the other end of her couch.

  “That was one request I wasn’t going to listen to.”

  “One? You’ve ignored many other requests.” She crossed her arms and pretended to pout.

  “I’m not going to let you pay for dinner when we go out to eat.”

  They’d only been out three times in the two months they’d been dating, and both times he refused a dime from her.

  “I wasn’t talking about that.”

  “Oh.” Brady wiggled his eyebrows and slid across the couch until their thighs smooshed together. “And I’m not going to stop when you really want me to continue.”

  He was referring to the other night when he’d pleasured her until she could no longer move, her legs collapsing from under her in
the shower. He’d carried her to the bed, and she’d told him she didn’t have the energy to make love.

  He proved her wrong, not asking for her to do anything but lie there and let him love her.

  Which he did.

  So freaking well.

  “You’re blushing.”

  “Am not.” She clasped her palms over her cheeks.

  “You’re thinking about it.” Of course, she was. How could she not? “It’s Christmas, and I want to give you a present.”

  “I said no gifts.”

  “I never agreed to that.”

  “Brady.”

  “It’s not much, so don’t get your hopes up thinking otherwise.”

  He didn’t have a lot of money, only one of the reasons why she’d said no gifts a few weeks ago when he’d asked her what she wanted for Christmas.

  The other being she didn’t want to get too attached.

  Yeah. Too late for that. Still. The no gift thing was supposed to create the illusion that they were just doing the friends with benefits thing.

  “So it’s not diamond earrings?” she teased.

  Brady’s lip quirked, but didn’t remain up for long. Money had been a sensitive topic for him. It was like he thought she came from it when he lived across the road from her family’s farm.

  She’d spent nearly everything she made when working in Paris. And The Closet wasn’t exactly bringing in buckets of money.

  “Whatever it is, you shouldn’t have.” Grace took the box from him. Wrapped in candy cane paper with a shiny silver bow, it fit in the palm of her hand. “And I love it.”

  Grace wrapped her arms around Brady’s neck and kissed him. He received her with open arms, and she wiggled her way onto his lap until she was straddling him.

  Opening her mouth wider, she invited him in and kissed him deeper, deeper until their bodies melded into one. Her free hand—one was preoccupied holding the unopened gift—moved across his shoulders, clutching him as she rocked back and forth into him.

  “You taste so good,” he murmured in her mouth.

  “Crystal Ice wine.”

  “No. It’s you. The wine was good, yes, but tastes so much better on your lips.”