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She didn't complain and I didn't question her need to slow things down. I'd give her whatever she needed at whatever pace she needed it. As long as I could stay right there beside her.

It was peace. Plain and simple.

"It's getting late," she said with a sleepy sigh.

"It is."

"I wouldn't mind staying here all night, Merrick, but I have to work early tomorrow," she informed me, a smile in her tired voice.

I chuckled. "Well, we can't have you showing up late to work, can we?"

Her head shook back and forth against my shoulder, bouncing with silent laughter.

"Would you mind helping me to the door?"

Her head lifted as she pushed up to stand. "Of course."

I stumbled to the door on my crutches, the stiffness in my injured leg making it more of an effort than usual.

"I'll be at the house when you get back from your appointment."

That's right. I had to meet with Dr. Samuelson, bright and early. If only the reason was for Grace instead of my eyes.

She opened the door. I reached out and found her hip, tugging her against me. My leg wasn't the only part of my body that was stiff. Feeling Grace pressed against me was almost as good as kissing her.

She lifted onto her toes and kissed me. Hard. Passionate. I almost tossed my crutches aside to push her against the first wall we stumbled into, but as quickly as it started, she pulled away.

"Goodnight, Merrick."

"Goodnight, Grace."

I left that house with the taste of her still on my lips and the hope of more.

Grace

I was in so much trouble.

If Merrick could kiss like that, what else could he do?

Sleep was out of the question, but I still rose the next day, feeling refreshed and – for lack of a better word – giddy. Merrick Thatcher had kissed me like a starving man. If I hadn't experienced it myself, I never would have believed it.

I wandered around the house for a while after Mom and Dad left for work. They got back really late after Merrick had gone home, fortunately. My unusually cheery behavior sent Mom's spidey senses into a frenzy, but Dad seemed really preoccupied. Neither one of them asked.

I threw in some laundry while I waited for Merrick to get home from his appointment. It felt like high school all over again. Me, constantly checking outside while I waited for a car to pull into his driveway, just to get a glimpse of him. This time was different, though. This time, Merrick actually knew I was there.

My phone rang and his name popped up on the screen. My stomach fluttered as I answered. "How did it go?"

He chuckled, that deep sound resonating through the phone. "Good morning, Grace."

And when the man said my name ...

"Good morning," I replied breathlessly. "How did it go?"

"Your dad is thorough. He should have been a private investigator."

I could only imagine. He cared about Merrick almost as much as he cared about me. "Well, why wouldn't he be thorough? You
are
a friend of the family."

"Hmm, I guess I am."

"So? Everything is normal?"

"That depends on your definition of normal. I still can't see." He sighed and cleared his throat. "I'll tell you everything when I get back. Mom wants me to come with her to get some supplies, so we'll be another thirty minutes or so."

"Sounds good."

"Will you be there when I get back?"

He asked the question as if he didn't already know the answer. He was just as unsure as I was about this new thing between us. "You know I will," I said, a beaming smile stretching my lips.

"Good. See you soon."

I spent the next forty-five minutes trying to keep my mind on anything else but Merrick. It was impossible. The things he said to me the night before, what he went through; it all seemed surreal. I couldn't imagine living that. Feeling like every day could be your last. No wonder he struggled so much to control his anger. It's not simple to go from one extreme to another.

And to be told that I made a difference for him. Well, what woman doesn't want to hear that? I just hoped it was the
right
difference.

My phone rang again. This time, Keara's name flashed across the screen. "Barbeque on Sunday. My place. You're bringing Merrick."

"Well, good morning to you, too, Keara."

"Yeah, yeah. Good morning, yada yada. Will you bring him or not?"

"Umm. I think so."

"You think so?"

"I'll ask him."

"Okay, good. Then what's with the hesitation?"

"Well ..."

Would he even want to come with me? Leaving the house earlier that week was one thing, but spending time with other people seemed to be a stretch.

Keara gasped and I squeezed my eyes shut. She knew.

"You tell me what's going on, right this minute, sister. Is there a new development? Did something happen between you two?" She spoke so fast, I could barely keep up.

"What makes you think something happened?" I asked, innocently.

"Don't give me that. I know you too well, Grace Samuelson. When you have a secret, you get all nervous and your voice changes to this high-pitched I'm-so-innocent-it's-sad tone. Now, spill it."

I drew in a long breath, but my ears perked at the sound of a car pulling in next door. "I need to go, but I'll tell you this. Merrick is a much better kisser than we ever dreamed of."

Keara gasped again. "Are you ... did he ..."

"I have to go. I'll call you later and I'll ask Merrick if he wants to come to the barbeque."

"Wait!"

"Bye."

I hung up and shoved my phone in my purse. She was going to kill me.

Walking outside, I saw Emma carrying groceries into the house. I picked up the last of them from the back seat of her car and hauled them inside. When I reached the kitchen, Merrick was sitting at the counter with a grin on his face.

"Thank you, Grace," Emma said, taking the bags from my hands.

"No problem. That's the last of it."

"Good. This boy seems to be in one of his ravenous moods. You'll have to make sure you make a little extra for dinner tonight in case he wants a late snack."

"Got it."

Merrick shook his head. "I'm right here. You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here."

"I'm not, sweetheart," Emma said sweetly. "I just know anytime I talk to you about these things, you aren't paying attention."

"I pay attention," Merrick argued.

"Not when Grace is in the room."

I felt heat rise in my cheeks as Merrick shrugged. "She's distracting."

"Mmhmm, I'm sure she is."

I wanted the floor to swallow me up. Did he tell his mom? I'd probably lose this job if she found out.

"I'll let you two finish up," Emma said and grabbed her purse off the counter. "I've got to get to the hospital and finish these interviews."

She kissed Merrick on the cheek and said her goodbyes. The second the front door shut, Merrick was out of his chair, balancing on one crutch.

"Get over here," he said, that gruff voice sending shivers down my spine.

I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from going to him if I wanted to. The pull between us was just too strong.

I walked toward him, his outstretched hand waiting for me. When I finally put my hand in his, he pulled me against him. He moved his crutch to lean against the counter, and when that other hand cupped my chin, I found it difficult to swallow.

Those blue eyes of his looked like they were seeing right through me. His lips curled up into a smirk when he heard my breath catch.

"I've been waiting for this for hours," he whispered, the crushed his mouth to mine.

This kiss didn't even compare to the night before. It was so much more. I felt it in my toes and fingertips. Merrick consumed me with his kiss, tangling his tongue with mine and keeping me right where he wanted me.

When both of us needed a breath, he pulled back, resting his forehead against mine.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

"Same here," I panted.

"Is it wrong that I just want to kiss you all day?"

This made me giggle. "No, because I want the same thing. But we can't. You have therapy to do and you have to tell me what happened this morning. Did you tell my dad about the fever?"

He nodded, tugging on my bottom lip with his thumb. It was so natural to let him. "I did. But I honestly wouldn't have had to with Mom there. She was all over it."

"Good," I said, spreading my fingers over his chest. "You can't ignore anything."

He lifted his hand to my hair and combed his fingers through it, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I know, baby. I won't."

There's no explaining how it felt to be called that. I melted right there. If I didn't get this day going soon, I'd end up doing exactly what he wanted. What we
both
wanted.

"Come on," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him with me.

He left his crutch by the counter and limped along beside me. He was putting more weight on his leg and the improvement was remarkable. I was anxious to see what his doctor would say.

"Please tell me you're taking me to my bed," he pleaded.

I smiled. "I am. But it's only so we can get your therapy over with today."

He groaned, but stayed with me, entwining his fingers with mine. Holding hands wasn't supposed to be so exciting, but it was with Merrick. His capable hands had held weapons and fought enemies. To feel that kind of power wrapped around me was marvelous.

When I sat him on his bed, he grabbed my hips and brought me between his legs. "You sure you don't want to make out for a while?"

It was awfully tempting, especially when he looked so hopeful. But his recovery was more important than my desperation for his touch.

"We've got work to do, then I promise we can relax for a bit."

He smirked, bouncing his eyebrows up and down. "I like the sound of that."

I laughed and shook my head. "You're impossible."

"You like it."

"Shut up and give me your leg."

"Oh, she's bossy. You've been holding out on me, Grace Samuelson."

The heat in my face was overwhelming. This was the Merrick I knew so long ago. Playful and happy. Always trying to make someone laugh.

I slowly lifted his leg and started the movements we had been doing for a good week. When I turned the effort over to him, he was lifting his leg higher than ever before and he didn't look as strained as he usually did.

"Looks like it's
you
that's been holding out on me, Merrick Thatcher. Where did this determination come from?

He grunted as he dropped his leg for a short rest. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The smirk on his face was a dead giveaway.

"Oh my God. You
have
been holding back. Why?"

"Maybe I wanted your hands on me more than I wanted to walk on this thing. So, I might have faked it a bit."

I didn't know what to say to that. It excited me and worried me all at once. There was no question Merrick wanted to be back to one-hundred percent. He complained about it endlessly in the beginning. I wanted him to progress, but knowing he sacrificed a little of that just to be close to me was a turn-on.

If that made me pathetic, then I was a hot, pathetic mess.

"What are you thinking, Grace?"

I watched him complete another rep before, lifting his pant leg to check the scars over his shin. He wasn't near as self-conscious about it as he used to be, but I still felt his muscles tense when I touched the raised skin with my fingers.

"Any pain today?"

"Not there."

I glanced up to see the hungry expression he was sending my way. "Then where?" I whispered.

"Tell me what you're thinking about and I'll let you kiss it better."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring his panty-dropping smile, but I was too aroused not to play along. "I was thinking about what could possibly make you hold back from your progress just so I could touch you more."

His smile faded and in its place was a baffled frown. "Are you serious?"

I shrugged, "It's a valid inquiry."

I pulled his pant leg down and moved to his side, lifting his shirt and shifting his pants to check the scars at his hip. He sat up and grasped my hand.

"Are we done with exercises for today?"

"Umm, no, but if you need a break then–"

"Good."

With that, he yanked me down beside him until I was sprawled out on his chest.

"What are you doing? Be careful, Merrick."

"Grace, I'm a grown man. I know what causes me pain and what doesn't, and you, babe, are causing me pain."

I lifted up onto my elbow and tried to climb off the bed, but he wouldn't let me.

"Not that kind of pain, although, where your leg is at could be considered blissful pain."

I looked down at my leg, nestled between both of his and pressing up against his left thigh. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

I tried to move away again, but he wasn't having it.

"You stay right here or you'll end up on your back, and I promise you, once I get started, you won't want me to stop, and I
won't
be stopping."

Hottest thing I've ever heard.

I played with that idea a little in my head and Merrick started laughing, drawing my gaze. He was so handsome. His jaw, even covered in stubble, looked strong and defined. His Adam's apple bounced as he laughed and never before had I ever wanted to kiss that part of a man until now.

"God, Grace. You have no idea how incredibly sexy you are. I can practically hear the thoughts running through your head and it's driving me crazy."

"It is?"

"Yes. You do that a lot."

"Do what?"

"Drive me crazy."

"How?"

He sighed, tucking me against his side as he sat back against the headboard. It was comfortable being pressed up against him with his arm around my shoulders. I didn't want to move away, even if I really should.

"Well, your smile for one thing."

"Excuse me?"

He chuckled, kissing my forehead and inhaling deeply. Every minute that passed made me fall for him a little more. This silly side of Merrick sent warmth stretching through my chest. His smile was real and striking. A smile that made a girl shiver when it was directed at her.

"I hear it all the time," he shrugged.

"You hear me smile?"

"Of course I do." When I didn't say anything, he added, "I guess it's not something people really think about much until they need to. I do because there's no other way for me to read people."

"So, you know when I'm smiling and when I'm not."

He nodded. "I'm best at hearing
you
. It's beautiful because you smile so much, even when you don't want to. But I know the difference between your fake smile and the real one. The real one ... well, let's just say it gets me going."

I shook my head, a dry laugh leaving my mouth. "You wouldn't feel that way if you could see me. I might smile a lot, but I'm not your usual type."

His arm constricted when he sat up straighter. "And what would you say is my usual type."

"I don't know," I pondered with a frown. "Not me. Maybe someone like Keara or Jen. They're so outgoing and pretty. Skinny and flawless."

"You think I want flawless," he stated, a deep line forming between his brows.

I sighed. I'd already screwed this up because I couldn't just take a damn compliment these days. His history didn't really lend a hand either. I'd seen the girls he spent his time with back in the day. Why would that change now?

"I don't know, Merrick."

"Listen. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Keara is wonderful and I know Jen is great. To be such good friends of yours, they would have to be. But let me make myself clear. I don't want a flawless woman. I don't want
them
and I don't want someone that's plastic and fake all the time. Maybe when I was younger, I went for that kind of thing because I didn't know any better. To be frank, my dick guided me everywhere."