Slow & Steady, page 5
part #2 of Alphas Undone Series
As we took our first bites, Maple was still busy inspecting her food with chubby toddler fingers. When she picked up the egg roll and shoved a big bite into her mouth, Finley’s eyes lifted to mine and we both let out a laugh.
After dinner, I decided to hang around while Finley gave Maple her bath. Usually this was the time I’d cut out and leave them to their mother-daughter evening routine. But we still had a mostly full bottle of Merlot, and so I decided to test her. It was now or never. I refilled both our glasses, and was waiting on the couch when Finley reemerged from the hallway.
“Oh.” She stopped in her tracks. “You’re still here.”
Ouch. Maybe Maple loved me, but her mother sure didn't.
After all the hours I’d invested trying to win Finley over, it was clear that I was still sitting at square one.
“Sorry, I’ll …” I made a move to stand.
But Finley crossed the room to place one hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. You don’t have to rush off.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself, then slowly pulled her hand away. “God, I’ve been a total bitch to you. It’s just that …”
“It’s okay. I get it, alright? Don’t beat yourself up.” She was still healing, still grieving, and I knew she was doing the best she could. “Come sit down for a minute.”
She did, pulling her legs up underneath her and accepting the wine glass I handed her.
“Maple really likes you,” she said, taking a sip.
“Yeah, she’s pretty sweet.” Never thought I’d be a kid type of guy, but she was just so damn cute.
As Finley settled in beside me, the scent of vanilla and soap greeted me. I took another long sip of wine, hoping to tramp down the feelings of lust she stirred in me.
“Have you kept in touch with any of the other guys? Nolan? West?” she asked.
I grunted an affirmative. “Yeah. West owns the bar in town now. He totally remodeled the place. It’s doing quite well.”
“Is he still a surly son of a bitch?” She smirked at me.
I barked out a short laugh. “That’s not how I would have put it, but yeah, sure is. He needs a good woman in his life. His ex really did a number on him.”
“Scarlet, right?”
“Good memory.”
Finley shrugged. “She actually used to work at the club. She was gone by the time I started, but I’ve heard some pretty unsavory stories.”
“I bet. I knew that girl was trouble from the first time I laid eyes on her. Manipulative. Opportunistic.” Made my fucking stomach turn, just thinking of all the ways she fucked him up. But cheating on him when he was deployed was by far the worst.
“I promise not all the girls at the club are like that. For the most part, they’re nice, normal women.”
“Like you?” I asked.
She nodded and took another sip of her wine, her eyes cast down on the floor.
Clearing my throat, I continued on. “Nolan’s settled down, found himself a woman who can handle all his shit. Lacey.” Just saying her name made me happy. She really was Nolan’s perfect match. The light to his occasional dark, stormy moods. Which reminded me—I owed them a visit. It had been too long.
“That’s good to hear,” Finley agreed.
“What about you?” I asked. “You keep in touch with anyone from the old crew?”
“No, I admit I haven’t done a good job at that. Aside from Marcus’s parents.”
“They still live in Florida?”
She nodded. “Yes. I do video chats with them so they can see Maple grow. I don’t think she quite gets it yet, she usually just tries to chew on my phone. And they’re great about sending little gifts and seeing her when they can. They don’t know about the money issues,” she admitted softly.
“And you? How have you been, really?” Despite the times we’d spoken recently, I still didn’t think I’d gotten to the truth of how she was faring. Tonight I wanted to strip away all of the pretenses and get to the heart of the situation that had haunted me for almost two years.
Her fingers on the stem of the glass trembled. “How do you think? My husband was killed. I had a baby – alone. None of that was ever in my life plan.”
“But you managed.”
“I did.” Her eyes flashed with determination, despite all she’d been forced to endure. It was something I admired about her big time. In my line of work, weakness could get you killed. Staying clear-headed and focused and just doing what you had to do to survive were deeply ingrained in me. And Finley spoke the same language.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She lifted one manicured eyebrow at me, a smirk pulling up her lips.
“I’m impressed – how you’ve held it all together. How you’re raising Maple alone.”
She shrugged off the compliment. “It’s what I had to do. And it’s what anyone would have done in my shoes.”
“It’s not what everyone would have done,” I corrected her. A weaker person would have sought comfort at the bottom of a bottle, or worse.
“You’re incredible. In so many ways.”
“I’m a damn stripper, for Christ’s sake, Greyson. Listen to yourself. You make it sound like I’m Mother Theresa. I take my clothes off for money and shake my tits in their face.”
“That’s what I’m telling you, you don’t have to be a stripper. You can be whatever you want to be.” I’d seen the strength, determination, and just sheer bullheadedness she possessed. There was no doubt in my mind she’d tackle any obstacle flung her way.
“And what would you have me be, Grey? The pretty little wife to a man from my somber past?”
Adrenaline shot through me, making my heart pump faster and my hands curl into fists.
“I couldn’t live with myself,” she added under her breath.
Taking a chance, I slid closer to her on the couch and lifted my fingertips to her cheek. Her skin was even softer than it looked – and warm.
“That's not what I was implying at all. But I could be here for you. Not just for Maple, but to take care of you.” I smoothed my thumb across her skin. She closed her eyes, and leaned slightly into my touch.
But then her eyes flashed open. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can. But I’m assuming you haven’t had a man in your life in a long time … someone to count on, someone to …”
Her gaze penetrated mine and the words died in my throat. To what? Pleasure her body? Give her a few mind-blowing orgasms? If I said it out loud, I knew I’d sound like an ass, so I didn’t. I just continued stroking her velvety soft skin and watched as her breathing grew shallow.
I took the glass of wine from her hand and set it on the coffee table next to mine. “Come here,” I murmured, pulling her close. Lowering my mouth to hers, I kissed her softly. She tasted sweet from the wine and her full lips parted, granting me access to sweep my tongue along hers. A bolt of desire shot down my spine and hardened my cock.
My hand slid down from her cheek to the column of her throat, where I could feel the insistent thumping of her pulse. Her tongue tangled with mine in desperate, hungry sweeps. Everything about this moment seemed surreal, from the soft little sighs in the back of her throat to her soft yet eager lips. My cock pressed painfully against my zipper, making me aware of just how badly I wanted her.
I wanted to pin her down against the couch, feel her body moving under mine, the tilt of her hips to meet my powerful thrusts. I wanted to hear the breathy cries that were sure to fall from her lips. Instead, I continued exploring her mouth, my hands cradling her jaw.
“Stop.” Finley pulled back, her lips swollen and her eyes soft with arousal. But her tone was all wrong. She looked confused and upset.
My cock had grown rock hard, but my arousal died instantly at the word stop. I respected her need for space and pulled back, putting several inches between us. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just that …” Her gaze drifted over to where her late husband’s portrait rested on the bookshelf.
I remembered that day like it was yesterday, despite the fact it was about seven years ago. We’d all been outfitted in our service dress blues and told not to smile. That didn’t stop Marcus, though. His grin was wide and bright and his blue eyes shone back at us. Looking at it now sent an eerie feeling creeping over me.
Glancing back at Finley, I saw an uneasy look had settled across her features. “My daughter’s asleep in the other room,” she said finally.
“I understand.” Hell, I didn’t want to rush things either, and I was ready to combust if we kept up much longer. She was just starting to come around and I didn’t want to push her too far too fast. There were so many delicacies to this situation that needed to be considered. “I should go.”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s probably a good idea.”
Was her willpower hanging by a thread like mine was?
“Okay,” I said, rising from the couch and headed toward the front door. With Finley trailing behind me, I discreetly adjusted my erection, angling it to the left of my thigh so I could fucking walk.
“You can come and see Maple since you get along so well, but that’s as far as it can go,” she added, sounding more firm.
When we reached the threshold to the door, I couldn’t resist the temptation of pulling her close. A gentle hug was what I intended, nothing more. “Whatever you want,” I murmured.
She lifted her eyes to mine and without hesitation, I pressed my lips to hers again and suppressed a groan at how good she tasted. Finley might have told me we had to stop, but that didn’t prevent her from rubbing herself against me, pushing her hips into mine. She gasped when she felt what she’d done to me. And when I ground back against her, she groaned in frustration.
She pulled back again, almost as if she was pained by this whole exchange. With her eyes locked on mine, we both fought to catch our breath. Chests heaving, we just stood there, watching each other.
We’d never done anything remotely like this, but I’d always been attracted to her, and I wondered if she was attracted to me, too. It had been a long damn time since I’d gotten any. I'd had no interest in chasing pussy while I’d been looking after Fin and Maple.
Tearing myself away, I drew a deep breath. My entire body was throbbing with need. Finley chewed on her lower lip, struggling with something internally. But what, I didn’t know. Her desire for me as a woman desires a man? Or was she interested in something more? Some deep, messy entanglement that I’d always sworn I didn’t need. But the mere idea of something more … something real nipped at me, tearing tiny holes in my armor. Coming home to baby squeals and goodnight stories and a woman who was so strong, yet so soft. …
No, I couldn’t let myself go there. I was only coming here to care for my best friend's family, to set right what I'd done wrong. She wasn’t meant to be mine. They weren’t meant to be mine.
But that didn’t stop me from picturing it. From wanting it so badly it fucking hurt.
I tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Not like this.”
She gave a tiny nod.
“Lock up behind me, okay?”
“I will.”
“And call if you need anything.”
“I will,” she echoed, her voice whisper soft.
“Night, baby.”
“Night.”
It was all wrong. But I couldn't stop myself from thinking that maybe, just maybe...this was a start.
I'd driven halfway home before I realized that I'd called her baby.
Chapter Six
Finley
“You want to take her where?” I crossed my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes. This was not what I'd expected to hear when I opened my door first thing in the morning.
Grey shrugged. He had brought a tiny pink fishing pole as a gift for Maple. “What's wrong with catfishing?”
“Just making sure I heard you right. A toddler, fishing? Are you out of your mind? Hooks and deep water and...”
“Hickory Lake is just a small, shallow neighborhood pond. It's meant for little kids. And this thing doesn't even take a hook, only a plastic bobber.” He reached out to rest his hand on my shoulder. “Trust me, Fin. I'll watch her like a hawk. I'd sooner die than let anything happen to her.”
Trying to ignore the warmth of his touch, I studied his face closely. But I couldn't find a trace of insincerity in his expression—only a pure, fatherly fondness. He was dead serious about protecting Maple.
“Ay-son!” Maple toddled over to him at top speed and glued herself to his leg.
“Why, good morning, sweetheart.” He bent down to greet her. She grabbed his proffered pinky, staring up at him with a wide, gummy grin.
Jesus, this level of adorable ought to be illegal. Why did he have to be so sweet with her? Just because Maple thought Grey walked on water didn't mean I should turn into a gooey puddle. No amount of corny Hallmark moments could change the fact that my husband was dead. It should be Marcus standing here, holding Maple's tiny hand, giving her presents and taking her out on daddy-daughter dates.
Even knowing all that, though, Grey's gentle smile still calmed my heart...and touched off a spark in my belly. And that kiss from last night didn't help. I shook off the sexy mental images just as Grey looked up again.
“So how about it?” he asked, eyebrows raised slightly in encouragement. “I'm betting you haven't had a real day off in a while.” He handed me a gift card for a local spa. “Go get a massage or whatever it is women like to do.”
Maple switched her pleading gaze to me. Her huge green eyes were a weapon of mass cuteness and she knew it. And a day at the spa sounded like heaven.
I melted immediately. “Okay,” I said before I could think better of it. “I do need something...” My job forced me to keep up with leg and bikini waxes, but my hair was getting too long, and my feet were dying for some TLC after dancing in high heels every damn night.
I showed Grey how to attach the child seat into his car, then drove downtown to Roxy's Locks and booked a haircut and deluxe pedicure. I sank into the padded salon chair. As the wispy attendant fluttered and fussed over me, I started to relax. The constant mental refrain of work and worries, time and money, gradually faded away. But in the resulting quiet, I could hear all the questions I'd been avoiding. Life was so busy, so full of moment-by-moment demands, that it had been easy to keep my mind off the big picture. I had taken that excuse gratefully. Now, however, I was all alone with my thoughts—and they always found their way back to Grey.
I closed my eyes, tears threatening. I wondered what on earth Marcus would think of all this. Would he judge me and think this was totally wrong? Or would he be happy that a man he loved and trusted was taking care of us?
I'd been so scared to even consider a future with another man. I'd thought it would feel like a betrayal. Either he wouldn't measure up to Marcus...or he would, and I'd feel traitorous, tricked by my own heart into breaking our wedding vows. But I'd come to realize that nothing I did could ever damage our marriage. Death had done us part—those days with Marcus were far behind me. And though I would never, could never forget a single moment, I wondered if my heart did have room for more. I needed reason to smile again. Maybe Grey and Marcus didn't sully or overshadow each other. They represented totally different parts of my life. And dear God, I wanted to actually enjoy my life again.
I said a silent prayer begging Marcus to understand.
Please.
Please help me see what I’m supposed to do.
“Miss?” The pedicurist asked, bringing me back to reality. “Is this the color you wanted?” She held up a bottle of baby pink polish.
“Yes, thank you.”
I watched as she painted carful strokes of polish over my buffed toes and my thoughts drifted to Greyson again.
The longer he came over to our place, the more normal it had felt. At first, I'd only let him play with Maple while I watched, eagle-eyed, skeptical that a never-married soldier boy could handle a toddler. But eventually I let his duties expand: feeding her at dinner, brushing her hair, wiping her face, entertaining her while I relaxed in a hot bath. And in return, our routine expanded to include him. I started taking it for granted that he'd show up twice a week, like clockwork, bearing dinner and a few precious hours of respite.
Before I knew it, three weeks had passed. Six visits. Dozens of deli boxes of mac 'n cheese for all of us, countless bedtime stories and peekaboo games for Maple...and then, at last, one bottle of Merlot. For me.
This arrangement wasn't supposed to be about me. The only way I could swallow my pride and let myself accept Grey's help was by making it all about Maple. Her learning to say his name had been the straw that broke my back. Oh, screw it, I'd thought, Maple likes the bastard for some reason, and I shouldn't deprive her of a father figure just because she's got terrible taste in men. She deserved a better childhood than the one I could give her on my own. And it was only for a little while, just until I could get on my feet. I furiously denied that my choice had anything to do with Grey himself—his handsome face, his broad shoulders and tight ass, his gentle but firm insistence on taking care of us. The most I'd ever admit was how refreshing it was to talk with someone who knew more than three words.
So I'd let him into our life. We didn't talk directly to each other much, apart from quick questions like “where's the paper towels?” But the atmosphere was still comfortably domestic. I'd never expected to feel that way again. With any man, let alone Greyson fucking Archer.
I almost wished I could feel more awkward. I was practically playing house with my husband's executioner. So why did the sight of him bring a smile to my face and loosen the tension in my shoulders? He made me feel like everything was going to be okay. Even though he'd been the one who made my life not-okay in the first place.
But when he brought the wine and Chinese takeout, I'd been shocked to find my pride still dormant. It all seemed so...natural. This was just the next step, something that came as easily as exhale followed inhale.
