Play It Safe (47 page)

But regardless of Gray’s late afternoon absence, the day had been great. First, I started it with Gray. Second, he made me breakfast (chocolate chip pancakes and my man was a master at pancakes). Third, a FedEx package came with a pair of exquisite, eight hundred dollar designer pumps (a gift from Lash) and a bottle of the aforementioned expensive perfume (a gift from Brutus) which was followed by me talking to them on the phone (Lash, for an hour, Brutus for five minutes, not unusual, either of them).

Apparently, I’d continue to be stocked up on the finer things in life even when that life was on a ranch. I talked to them often, Lash several times a week. Brutus, less frequently but I checked in and so did he. I should have known they’d be generous, it was who they were and the loved me, but still, it was a pleasant surprise.

Their gifts were nice. They were sweet. And they were pure Lash and Brutus.

Janie had also popped by to give me a present that was from her, Danny, Gene, Barry and even Peg (yes, Peg, where she got her money, I had no clue but she’d given some to the present for me). It was a pair of fawn suede, kickass cowboy boots, the first pair I’d owned since going the way of the Vegas showgirl and better than any I’d ever had even when they were nearly all I used to wear.

I loved them.

And now I had Gray and Jenkins and then we’d be home and I’d just have Gray.

It was the best birthday ever.

And I didn’t know it, but it was about to get better.

* * * * *

I was screwing around in the kitchen, killing time waiting for Gray by getting the coffee ready so I could just flip the switch in the morning when I heard, “Told you, bears repeating, like that dress, dollface.”

I turned and saw Gray leaning shoulder to doorjamb wearing his dark blue suit. He also had on a light blue shirt that did great things for a tan he still had seeing as, even in October, he spent most of his time outside.

He looked beautiful.

“Thanks, baby,” I replied on a smile then I turned back and flipped the door to the coffeemaker closed.

Then I moved to approach him but stopped when Gray ordered, “Stay right there, Ivey.”

I blinked then I stared and when I did I noticed his gaze was intent and not the kind of intent that said he really liked my dress.

A different kind of intent.

An intent that made my heart beat faster.

I would know why when he told me casually, “Went to see my Mom today.”

My hand moved out to hold onto the counter but otherwise I didn’t move. It had been months since Norrie’s visit. Months. I steered clear of her for Gray (even though I wanted to get to know her) and Gray had steered clear of her for his own reasons that I let be.

Now, he’d gone to see her.

Wow.

Gray kept talking.

“She had somethin’ belongs to Codys, I wanted it back. We talked awhile. She’s comin’ to lunch on Sunday after church. That cool with you?”

Was that cool with me?

Was he crazy?

“Yes,” I forced out on a wheeze, shocked, pleased and cautiously happy because I couldn’t tell if Gray was or if he was doing this for me.

Gray said no more.

I didn’t either nor did I move and I also found it hard to breathe.

Finally, he spoke and when he did, it was to whisper, “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Oh God.

My belly melted.

“Gray,” I whispered back.

“In that getup, in your jeans and tees, in your bikini on the lawnmower, when I open my eyes in the morning and see you next to me, anytime I see you, that’s what I think. First thing that comes to mind. Anytime. Every time.”

I swallowed, held onto the counter and said nothing; just let his words rush warm and sweet through me.

Then he gave me, a woman who once had nothing but a bag full of stuff, not much of it good, but who, standing there in that kitchen thought she had everything, the world.

“I love you, Ivey, and you got a name you gave yourself that means somethin’ to you but I still want you to take mine.”

Oh God.

Oh God.

Oh God.

Tears filled my eyes.

“You want that, baby?” he whispered.

Instantly, unable to speak, I nodded.

And just as instantly, he walked across the kitchen and when he arrived at me, he took my left hand, lifted it and slid an old-fashioned diamond ring on my ring finger. It was large, a rounded off, wide rectangle surrounded by smaller diamonds all of this on a simple, thin white gold band.

It was old. It was Cody. It was beautiful. It was perfect.

“My Mom wore that ring. My Gran wore it too. And so did my great-Gran. Took it to Lazar’s in town, they cleaned it, said it’s in good repair,” he muttered, finishing, “and it fits.”

It did. And thank God it did because I was never taking it off.

Not ever.

Except, of course, when he slid on the wedding band that would go under it.

His fingers folded around mine and he lifted my hand to his mouth, bending his neck and touching his lips to my finger above the ring while I watched, a tear sliding down my cheek.

Then he pulled my hand to his chest and flattened it there.

“It’s old, darlin’, not new, not fancy but there it is.” His thumb tweaked my ring. “Happy birthday.”

I ripped my hand from his and threw my arms around his shoulders. Then I went up on tiptoe as the fingers of one hand drove into his hair pulling his head down to me and I kissed him. It was wet and not just because my tongue danced with his but because my tears slid to our lips.

We made out in the kitchen for a long time before Gray finally raised his head but rested his forehead to mine and he whispered, “Say you love me, Ivey.”

“I love you, Gray. I really, really love you, baby.”

He grinned and his arm gave me a squeeze.

Then he let me go but grabbed my hand and, as he dragged me to the kitchen door, he ordered, “Now quit bawlin’. I’m hungry and we don’t have time for you to fix your face.”

Since I had no choice (but wouldn’t chose differently), I hurried after him as he took his long-legged strides toward the front door, my free hand dashing at my face and deep breathing to control the tears. Gray stopped us at the hall tree and helped me put on my coat. I nabbed my purse. Then he grabbed my hand again and dragged me out the door to his pickup where he put me, in my expensive shoes and a dress that cost a small fortune, to take me into town for my birthday dinner.

And as we were underway, even though night had fallen, I noticed that the detritus scattering the floor of the old girl had accumulated again.

It was time to clean out Gray’s truck.

And on this thought, my one hand in my other, my thumb moving over the hard diamond, I looked out the windshield and smiled.

The Wait Was Over

Six thirty in the morning, Christmas Eve…

I woke to darkness with Gray’s hands and mouth on me.

“Baby, it’s Christmas Eve. On Christmas Eve can’t we sleep in?” I asked drowsily.

Gray’s hand made it to my breast and curled around as his lips made it to the base of my ear where he muttered, “No.”

Then his thumb slid over my nipple and I decided I no longer wanted to sleep in.

Instead, I twisted my neck, Gray’s head came up then it immediately came back down so he could kiss me.

* * * * *

Seven oh three in the morning, Christmas Eve…

“Need you, baby,” I breathed my plea.

I was stroking him, so desperate for him it was part stroking, part pulling.

His hand was between my legs, two fingers buried, thumb working me. Our mouths were close and we were both breathing heavily.

“Not done,” he muttered, pressing deeper and rolling.

Oh God.

“Baby,
I’m
gonna be done and I want to be done with you inside me,” I begged, my hips jerking, my hand still stroking and I did this hard, hard enough for him to groan.

I liked that and I was hoping that meant he was ready to move us directly to the final phase.

He didn’t.

Instead, he whispered, “Take you there again.”

Oh yes.

My eyes held his, close up.

“Really?”

He stopped rolling and started finger fucking me.

My head arched back.

His mouth went to my throat. “Really.”

Yes.

His fingers slid out, his hand cupped me and my head righted with a jerk, my eyes locking on his.

“Baby –” I started to protest.

“On your back, Ivey, spread your legs wide for me. I wanna watch you come while I fuck you with my fingers,” he ordered.

Oh yeah, I wanted that too.

So I did what I was told. Then Gray did what he wanted. And when he did, it was so good, my back arched clean off the bed, my head dug into the pillows and my hips ground down on his hand.

“Fuck me,” through the daze of my orgasm I heard him growl, “prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen.”

Then he was between my spread legs, his hips drove into mine and he started fucking me.

Hard.

Then he did as promised and took me there again.

It was brilliant.

* * * * *

Eight thirteen in the morning, Christmas Eve…

Gray shoved his plate in the dishwasher I had open, sucked back the last of his coffee, upturned his mug and slid that in then his hand snaked out and tagged me behind the neck.

He pulled me in and up and dropped a light kiss on my lips.

When he lifted his head, he said, “Got shit to do in town. Then gonna go get Gran. You need anything?”

I shook my head.

“Got everything we need from Plack’s?” he went on.

I nodded my head.

“I’m ready,” I told him.

And I
was
ready, boy was I ready. I’d spent hours in Plack’s, Hayes and on the internet, shopping. More in the guest bedroom wrapping. More creating menus and searching for recipes.

I was definitely ready for Christmas and I couldn’t wait.

Gray read this in my eyes. I knew when he grinned, giving me the dimple.

Then he dropped another light kiss on my lips.

Then he let me go and I watched his ass as he sauntered out of the kitchen, muttering, “Later, dollface.”

“Later, honey,” I called to his back then turned to the sink to finish the breakfast dishes.

I did this smiling to myself mostly because my eyes were on my hands and I could see my ring there.

Gray would have a time of it, besting his birthday present.

But he was making the effort. I knew this because he was getting Grandma Miriam from the home and she was going to be with us until the day after Christmas. And we could do this because, early that evening, his Mom was coming. She was a nurse, she was spending the next two nights in our guest room and she, with the help of Gray and me, could give Grandma Miriam what she needed. Then, tomorrow, after we had a small family Christmas in the morning, in the afternoon, all Gray’s uncles, their wives and Audie and his girl were coming over for Christmas dinner.

I couldn’t wait.

For any of it.

More than six months of peace from the machinations of Buddy Sharp and more than six months of going to bed and waking up with Grayson Cody, the last two and half with the Cody family heirloom ring on my finger.

Life was good and with Gran there, Norrie, who Gray was getting to know slowly and cautiously but he was doing it, then his uncles, aunts and cousin, I’d have a
real
family Christmas.

The first one ever.

Ever.

Thirty years and there it was.

Yeah, Gray was close to besting his birthday present.

Nothing would be better than the symbol that stated plainly I was soon going to take the name Cody.

But a family Christmas wasn’t far off.

* * * * *

Nine thirty-eight in the morning, Christmas Eve…

I had Christmas music playing, a bay and rosemary candle burning and I was making Christmas cookies. It was my fifth batch of the season. This was because, with Christmas cookies in the house, Gray had foregone his candy bars and nabbed a cookie (or four) whenever he had the munchies. This was also because, now that there was peace amongst the Cody men, anytime his uncles were fighting with their wives, they were over at our house.

Which meant they were over a lot.

And they grew up in that house so they had no problem helping themselves.

I didn’t mind.

Not at all.

I was standing at the kitchen counter, kneading the dough, Christmas all around but my mind was on flowers.

Not flowers for my wedding, planting them around the house.

During a visit with Grandma Miriam she told me, before she lost her legs, every year she planted a thick border of impatiens around the front and side of the house.

“Perfect for them, child, with the trees that shade the house, they get their bit of sun but they like their shade,” she’d told me.

I had the ring she wore on my finger. I was making Christmas dinner in the kitchen where she’d prepared it for five decades.

So, come spring, the house would have Grandma Miriam’s flowers.

I heard the approach of a car and my head turned to the window, surprised because I figured it was Gray. I had no idea what he had to do in town but going to get Grandma Miriam and dealing with packing her up and checking her out alone would take an hour and he’d been gone just over that.

But it wasn’t Gray’s pickup bumping down the lane. It was a silver car, an Audi, new and clean like it had a garage for its home.

I found this interesting. Audis weren’t popular cars in Mustang.

I took my hands out of the dough rubbing off the lumps. I rinsed them quickly, dried them, headed out of the kitchen, down the hall and out the front door.

Then I stopped dead on the porch as I watched Bud Sharp get out of his Audi and out the passenger side was a man who Buddy would definitely not hang with. Not ever.

He was older, tall, beefy, with long-ish, wild hair that held its blonde but had more silver and to say he was rough around the edges was an understatement.