Chapter Sixteen
Finley
Someone was moving around downstairs. Hearing muted voices and the occasional clank, I stirred, twisting the sheets around me. It took me a moment to realize that I was in Grey's bed—and buck naked. I squinted at the clock radio to see that it was after ten. I hadn't slept so late or so long in almost two years. I sighed with pleasure as I stretched, feeling incredibly rested.
My memories of last night soon returned like a warm rain. Grey had been so sweet...and such an amazing lover. As I rolled out of bed, I winced a little, feeling the strain in my hips and thighs and the pleasant soreness between them. I giggled to myself. Dancing had kept me pretty damn fit, but it had been a long time since those particular muscles had gotten so much exercise.
I still felt languid from my great night—both the asleep and awake parts. Wanting to savor this lazy-Sunday-morning feeling, I shrugged on Grey's plaid terrycloth robe instead of getting dressed. It was more than a little loose on me, hanging off my shoulders to offer an eyeful of cleavage, but nobody would be seeing anything they hadn't seen before. And I liked the idea of distracting Grey from whatever the hell he was up to.
I walked downstairs to find Grey and Maple in the kitchen. Grey stood in front of the stove, tossing a huge wok of sliced chicken and vegetables. My stomach growled at the spicy, peanutty smell. In her high chair, near the breakfast nook's table, Maple was playing with a plateful of small chicken chunks and carrot coins. When she saw me in the doorway, she squealed with excitement and hurled a baby corncob at the floor so hard it bounced.
“Well, good morning to you, too.” I crossed the kitchen to kiss Maple's forehead hello.
“You got one of those for me?” Grey called.
I sauntered over to him, leaned in, and placed an exaggeratedly chaste peck on his cheek. His wry grin made it clear that he'd collect what I owed him later...and then some. Ooh.
Letting my shoulder brush his, I watched the colorful bell peppers, carrots, snow peas, and broccoli dance in the wok. “So what's the occasion?”
“Making lunch,” he replied. Admirably, his eyes only dipped to my chest for an instant. I'd have to do a better job tempting him. “Don't worry, I served Maple her share before adding the hot chili oil.”
I laughed. “Lunch? It's ten in the morning.”
Grey turned his head so that his full lips skimmed my cheek as he spoke. His freshly shaven skin was so soft; I couldn't decide which I liked better, smooth Grey or stubbly Grey. “Yes, but we've been up since five-thirty, so breakfast was at six. Now we're hungry again.”
God, I'm already in so deep. Just hearing him say “we” like that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And neither of us seemed to be able to stop touching each other. But yikes, five-thirty in the morning? Had Maple woken him up? How had I slept through that? Sex with Greyson must have worn me out more than I’d realized. I supposed six powerful orgasms could do that to a girl ... or he just had a magical cock. Pulling myself from that daydream, I realized he was still watching me.
“You didn't have to take care of everything yourself,” I said, faintly embarrassed that he'd been doing all my work for me. “I'm sorry. Do you want to grab a nap? I can take over.”
He shook his head. “I want to do this, Fin. Let me in, okay?”
Caught off guard by the sudden lump in my throat, I nodded my permission instead of speaking aloud. My eyes stung a little. But these weren't the kind of tears I'd become all too used to fighting. They were happy tears. It’s like my life had pulled a one-eighty, in the best possible way. I'd never imagined getting a second chance at a happily ever after – I thought those only came about once. And with Greyson Archer, no less?
A quiet beep made me turn my head. There was a deluxe rice cooker by the sink, opposite the kitchen's stove side, and its light was flashing. I took off the lid, inhaling the jasmine-scented steam that billowed from the fluffy white grains.
“If you're dying to help, the dishes are in the cupboard just to your left,” I heard Grey say.
I found two wide bowls, heaped rice into each one, and placed them on the counter at Grey's elbow. I added a couple cooled spoonfuls to Maple's plate and she promptly mushed her hands into the soft white stuff like modeling clay. As I filled our water glasses, Grey brought the bowls to the table, now piled high with spicy peanut stir-fry. My mouth watered. This was a weird breakfast for me, but it looked and smelled so amazing that I didn't care.
“So,” Grey declared as we sat down, “what's on the agenda? I've taken the whole day off. We can do whatever you want.”
My mind instinctively started calculating how many hours I had left until my shift, whether we needed anything from the store, how I would handle dinner. Then I remembered: I'd quit my job yesterday. And I didn't start my new one until Monday. Grey's fridge and pantry were fully stocked. I didn't even need to cook.
My free time was, in fact, free. I actually could do whatever I wanted.
...What did normal people do on their days off? I was drawing a blank. This whole arrangement would take some getting used to.
“Maple loved playing in the pool yesterday,” I mused, raising a forkful of food to my lips. “Maybe we could do that.”
“Sounds good to me,” Grey said. “That thing has sat empty for so long, it'll be good to see it get some use.” Then his warm smile turned sly. “But make sure you're ready to go out at five tonight. I've got a surprise for you.”