Here With You Page 21

  She dropped the tiny package on the couch and grabbed ahold of his hair with both hands.

  “Can you be naked now?” She sucked on his bottom lip and ground her ass into his lap.

  “Grace,” he gasped. “Your present.”

  “This is what I want.” She searched for the bottom hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head, tossing it across the living room.

  “SEE? I ALWAYS LISTEN to your requests.” Brady kissed her cheek and cradled her naked, sated body into his side. There wasn’t a lot of room on the couch, so he had to pull her in tight.

  Too bad.

  The gift he gave her was somewhere. She didn’t want to open it. It made her uncomfortable. The gesture. She’d never been with a man during the holidays or her birthday. Had never received a gift from anyone other than her family.

  This was too... too personal. Too intimate.

  “Aren’t you glad you listened to me?” Grace draped her arm across his chest and swirled her finger around his belly button.

  “So very glad. And you’re going to be glad I got you a gift.”

  “Brady. I didn’t want you too.”

  “Too late. It’s nonrefundable.”

  Grace propped herself up on her elbow, which was hard to do on the narrow couch. “You didn’t.”

  Mischief danced in his eyes. “Open it.” Grace dropped her forehead to his chest and moaned. “If you’re worried because you didn’t get me anything, don’t be. Not only do I not want you to waste your hard earned money on me, this is the best gift I could ever ask for.”

  “Sex?”

  “Well, that’s a side benefit. Being with you makes everything complete. I’m not a materialistic guy. I don’t need anything else.”

  “But you think I’m a materialistic girl, which is why you defied me and got me something.”

  Brady chuckled.

  “Okay. Fine. I am a materialistic girl in some ways. I’m not a snob. Yes, I love a good pair of heels, the higher the better, and I love clothes. Dressing up is fun. But I’m down to earth as well.”

  “You don’t have to sell me on you. I like you just the way you are.”

  Damn. She couldn’t do this. Not only was her heart going to be trampled on, but Brady’s was as well. Her scandal wouldn’t go over well with him. Neither would her news about moving.

  She was going to hell for stringing him along. After the New Year, she’d end things with him once and for all.

  Brady squirmed underneath her, reaching across with his arms. “Here,” he said, placing the small box on his naked chest. “Open it.”

  “I’m sure there’s a way for you to return it.”

  “Nope.”

  “Shit.”

  Brady laughed at her curse and propped himself up to sitting. He picked up Grace as if she weighed nothing and sat her next to him on the couch.

  “You realize we’re both naked. Opening a present. Shouldn’t we get dressed first? Or at least find a blanket?”

  “Nope. I like you naked. Think of it as another Christmas present to me. See? Now I have two and you haven’t even opened your first one yet.”

  “Why can’t you be my Christmas present?”

  “I claimed that idea first. No copying.”

  “You’re such a child. Fine. Give me the thing.” She ripped the beautifully wrapped present from his hand and tore it open.

  “Wow. I expected you to be the type who tried not to rip the paper.”

  “This is what happens when people don’t listen to me. I get cranky.”

  “Good to know.” He kissed her nose with another chuckle.

  Grace bit her bottom lip as she tore away the last of the paper. A tiny white box glared back at her. It couldn’t be jewelry. That would scream long-term commitment. She couldn’t accept it.

  But she wasn’t ready to let Brady go yet. He’d tire of her in time. He had to. They all did. Maybe she could let it play out a little longer until he sent her to the curb.

  She lifted the lid to the box and gasped.

  “Brady?” With shaking fingers she picked up the end of a flash drive, letting the bomb dangle between them. Heat rushing through her veins like lava, she burned from shame. Fear. Mortification. It couldn’t be the one...

  “I loaded it with my grandmother’s and mother’s favorite recipes.”

  “You... what?” Relief washed over her, and she sunk back into the couch.

  “I asked first, so it’s not like they’re Marshall secrets. Hope, Mia, and Jenna gave me some of their favorites as well. Lily gave me a takeout menu to scan. I guess she doesn’t cook. Alexis gave me some of your mom’s that she said you really like.”

  “Recipes?”

  “Yeah. For your collection. You’re always on your phone looking them up. I figured one place to hold them would be kind of handy.”

  “You collected recipes?”

  He lowered his head, his anxious smile fading into disappointment. “It’s not a lot, I know.”

  “Brady.” Relief. Joy. Love. They all filled her heart. “This is the most thoughtful,” she flipped a leg over his to straddle him, “wonderful.” She kissed his lips. “Amazing.” She kissed his cheeks. “Beautiful.” She kissed his neck. “Perfect gift.” She kissed his mouth again.

  He cradled her face and moved her away from his mouth a fraction of an inch. “So you like it?”

  “No. I love it.”

  And I love you.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  AS THE DAYS GREW COLD and the nights grew colder, Grace and Brady’s relationship grew stronger.

  And hotter.

  She’d stopped making dinners for the entire Marshall family and toned it down to dinners for two. Except for a handful of nights when Mrs. Marshall wasn’t feeling well, or when there was a big storm and he had to plow until the wee hours of the morning, Brady spent every night in her bed.

  When she woke, he was usually gone, but not without a sticky note on the counter and coffee in the pot.

  This morning was one she cherished. He’d promised to stay with her until she had to leave for work. The hint of the morning sun peeked its way through her curtains, and Grace stretched and arched her body into his... pillow. Opening one eye, she peered out and saw his side of the bed was empty.

  Straining, she listened for noises from her kitchen or bathroom.

  Nothing.

  The clock next to her bed told her it wasn’t even time for her to wake up yet. Her eight o’clock alarm wasn’t due to ring for another twenty minutes. Plenty of time for morning snuggles... or more.

  If Brady was here.

  A commotion from the living room had her sitting upright. Someone opened the door.

  She heard the jingling of keys and the closing of the door. It had to be Brady. Clutching his pillow into her chest, she called out.

  “Brady?”

  “Are you expecting someone else?” He poked his head in the bedroom and gave out a low whistle. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

  “How long have you been gone?” she asked. It was getting easier to not blush at every compliment he dished out.

  “I went down to the Sunrise Diner to get us breakfast.” He held up a bag and a beverage tray. “Two lobsterman’s specials. And two coffees.”

  “I can’t eat all that.”

  “I know. I’ll eat what you don’t finish.” He toed off his unlaced boots and shimmied out of his winter coat, all while balancing the bag in his hands. He plopped down on his side of the bed, making her body bounce up and down, and pulled the covers over his lap.

  “What are you doing? I’ll get up.”

  “Breakfast in bed.” He took out one of the Styrofoam containers and placed it in her lap. “I didn’t want to chance waking you by cooking. And we don’t have a lot of food in the fridge.”

  We. She reminded herself not to get too swoony over Brady. “I know. I need to go to the store today.”

  “You have the shop. I’ll go for you.” He kissed her
on the lips and settled into his seat, fluffing two pillows behind his back and placing the other Styrofoam container in his lap.

  Grace watched him slice through his pancakes with his plastic fork and knife as if this was their normal routine.

  “What is it?”

  “You’re too good to me.”

  “You deserve it.” He placed another quick kiss, this time on her nose, and went back to work sawing into his stack of pancakes.

  No. She really didn’t. She didn’t do anything to deserve a man as wonderful as Brady.

  “First time I’ve been in the diner since I was in high school.”

  With his mom big on making hearty breakfasts every morning before the workday started, this made sense. Why would he want to go to a greasy spoon when he had his own farm fresh eggs and sausage made for him?

  “Over the years, I’ve heard about Priscilla and her quirky aura readings,” he’d said after wiping his mouth. “But I gotta tell you, she totally freaked me out this morning.”

  “She read my colors one night too. Red, I think she said. With a layer of green.”

  “Guess I’m yellow and pink. Kind of shrunk my manhood a little.”

  Grace peeked under the covers. “I think you’re good.”

  “Thanks.” He leaned over her pancake breakfast and gave her a maple syrup kiss. He did that a lot. Kissed her just for the sake of kissing her. “She said pink people are very romantic and once they found their soul mate they’ll stay faithful, loving, and loyal for life.”

  Pancake lodged in her throat, and she had to beat her chest and down the rest of her hot coffee to break it up. Her plan was backfiring. Brady wasn’t supposed to say stuff like this to her.

  The more time they spent together the more he was supposed to realize Grace was absolutely not soul mate material.

  “Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Can I be honest with you?”

  Yes! Tell me it’s an overrated holiday and you want to break up.

  No! What the hell was she thinking? She didn’t want to break up with Brady. It would crush her. Kill her. She wouldn’t be able to breathe if she didn’t have him by her side every night, holding on to her, whispering encouraging words to her, no matter what the topic.

  Whether it was her cooking or her store or her terrible singing in the shower, Brady had a way of making her feel confident, so sure of herself when in reality, she didn’t have a freaking clue what she was doing.

  “I’d say you’re usually too honest with me.”

  Brady moved his empty tray to the nightstand and turned to her. “The last time I celebrated Valentine’s Day was when I made a heart out of clay in fifth grade and gave it to my mom.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “My brother continued to give her stuff he made at school, and my dad would do something nice. Buy her flowers, whittle her something out of wood, or bring her shopping for material to make a quilt.”

  “Does she still like to sew?”

  “She usually makes a quilt every winter and donates it to the school to raffle off at a fundraiser event.”

  “Has she been working on one?”

  “She’s starting to. I brought her into town the other day to pick out material.”

  And by “into town” he meant thirty minutes away to Rockland where there were a handful of stores to actually buy stuff.

  “You’re a good son.”

  “I try.”

  “And I know she appreciates all you do.”

  “You have me off track.”

  Yeah. Back to him breaking up or not breaking up with her. By the way one hand moved unconsciously along her leg and the other through her hair, she’d say she was pretty safe on the not breaking up end of things.

  Her conscience, however, was anything but safe.

  “I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day with a girlfriend.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve ignored your girlfriends on the most highly overrated, overpriced, commercialized holiday.” She feigned a gasp.

  “What I meant was.” Brady took her half-eaten breakfast and set it on the mattress behind him and pulled her sideways across his lap. “I’ve never had a girlfriend to celebrate with.”

  “You’ve had girlfriends though.” She’d heard about them when she was younger. There were flocks of girls who applied every spring and summer to work on the farm with Brady and Carter.

  “Not long term. No one special.” He ran his hands through her hair and draped it over one shoulder. “No one like you.”

  “You make it really hard to think when you say stuff like that.”

  “Is that so?” he asked with a wicked gleam in his eye.

  “Can I be honest with you?” Somewhat honest. Not completely.

  “I’d like that.”

  “I’ve had boyfriends, but I’ve never had one at Christmas.” Sort of a lie. She was sleeping with Robert at the time. Mistress didn’t exactly constitute her as girlfriend. And all he got her was a room at the Ritz and a night of sex. Just like every other time they hooked up.

  Grace clenched her body, not wanting to think about him.

  “You okay?” Brady stroked her back like a man who cared. A man who loved her.

  “I’ve never had one on Valentine’s Day either. I don’t want you to get me anything.” She put her palm over his mouth when he opened it to speak. “All I want tomorrow is to be with you. If your mom is sick, be with her. If we get a nor’easter, I’m riding shotgun with you in your plow truck. I’ll take you any way I can, Brady Marshall.”

  “It’s a date, Grace Le Blanc, but we’re doing more than just hooking up.”

  Funny. It wasn’t anything special when she just “hooked up” with Robert, but spending the night with Brady was the best gift he could give her.

  “Being with you is fine enough.” And she wholeheartedly meant it.

  “Grace.” He pushed her hair back, those gray eyes darkening. “I’ve been afraid to say this. Afraid you weren’t ready to hear it, but I’m going to risk it.” He stroked her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs and kissed her lips with his words. “I love you.”

  Unexpected shivers and warmth simultaneously rocketed through her body.

  Grace gasped and laughed and choked at the same time. He loved her. This good, honest, amazing man loved her. She forgot about her leaving in a few months, about the secrets she held, and let herself love.

  Let herself be loved. It was selfish, she knew. But she needed this.

  “I love you too,” she whispered across his lips.

  She cherished every night he came to her door, sat at her table, and spooned her all night.

  These nights would end. Too soon they’d be memories of her past. Good memories. The pain would come when he learned she was leaving. That she had no desire to stay, and there was no way he would leave.

  Until then, she’d cherish all the time she had with Brady as if it were her last.

  MARCH FIRST. BRADY didn’t think this day would ever come. He was sure his mother didn’t either. Her last round of chemotherapy. Her specialists were pleased with the progress she’d made and were hopeful this would be it.

  Opening the passenger door for his mom, he held her hand and helped her to the ground.

  “How are you feeling?” He draped his arm around her shoulder and guided her into the hospital.

  “The same as the last ten times you’ve asked me.”

  “Sorry. I’m nervous and anxious and excited for you.”

  “I know, honey.” She reached up and patted his hand. “You’ve got spring around the corner and don’t need the burden of—”

  “Stop.” He planted his feet and turned his mother to face him. “I don’t want to hear one word about you being a burden to me or to Carter or to anyone. You’d do the same for us. Hell, you do more. A hell of a lot more. You’re the strongest, bravest woman I know. You’re a fighter. Your doctors say the same thing. We’ve got this, Ma. You’re going to beat it.”

  “
Now what did you do that for?” She sniffed and swiped at her eyes. “Who would’ve thought. Allergy season and it’s barely March.”

  Unlike Brady, Dorothy Marshall did not like to show emotion. Her heart was nowhere near her sleeve. Only Carter and Brady, and their father, had access to it. Some have said she was cold, but that was because she didn’t trust many. Never opened up or revealed much about herself.

  The farm and her boys. That was Dorothy Marshall.

  Brady stood back while she checked herself in. When the nurse called her name, he followed her to a private room, all too familiar with the drill.

  “Oh, my book. I can’t believe I left it at home,” she said as the nurse prepped her sites for the chemo.

  “I can run home and get it.”

  “No. By the time you get back, I’ll be almost done.” It would take forty minutes round trip, and her chemo treatment would be at least three hours. They both knew this, but he didn’t argue.

  “We’ve got a million magazines, Mrs. Marshall. Soon as I’m done I’ll go get you some.”

  “Thanks, Leah.”

  Leah had been the nurse every time his mother had come in for treatments. All of them were wonderful, but Leah seemed to get his mom the most. She didn’t want to make friends. Didn’t want idle chatter.

  Sometimes Brady and Carter came with her, other times they tag-teamed. Since Carter had an early morning consult with a new client, Brady brought his mom in for what they hoped to be the last round of chemo.

  It wasn’t like he had a fear of needles, but they sure weren’t his thing. Carter got the willies from them and liked to take on second shift, arriving after everything was inserted and their mother was covered with a blanket.

  The men and women who went through these treatments were brave as hell. And the kids. Damn. It broke his heart to see a cute little bald-headed kid with a smile and a “thank you” on his lips after treatment.

  Brady didn’t know if he could be so brave.

  Leah came back with a stack of magazines and placed them on the tray next to his mother’s side. “All the good ones are already taken. Some of these are more than a year old. I’ll be back later to refresh the stack for you.”