The Copper Valley Bro Code Series: Volume 1, page 81
Tillie Jean’s lip curls. “For breakfast? Ew. Ignore him, folks. I’m grabbing a tray of banana pudding.”
My family ushers everyone out the door, all of them sending me knowing looks. Finally, it’s just me and Georgia again.
Me, Georgia, Long Beak Silver, and Cooper, that is.
“What?” I snarl at Cooper.
“Just making sure I don’t have to fight any domestic enemies,” he replies.
“Rawk! Eat that pussy! Rawk!”
“Someone please shoot that bird,” I mutter.
He swoops through the dining room and poops on my head.
“Grady, you’ve got it bad,” Georgia says.
I start to glower at her, but she holds both hands up. “Slow down, master baker. I don’t give two pirate coins who you love. I care that she’s good enough for you and she loves you back. Is she worth this?”
She gestures to me in all my snarly, heartbroken glory, and I sink into the nearest chair and rub my neck.
“She’s worth it,” I tell the floor.
“Then get up off your ass and do something about it.”
I lift my head and study her.
She rolls her eyes and puts a fist on her hip. “Can’t fight love. And if you can find it with someone from a town your family has vilified for years, then maybe there’s hope for the rest of us. Even if I still think they cheated yesterday.”
I growl.
She grins. “You really do have it bad. Also, can you please tell Cooper not to mop the floor with me for saying they cheated? I was joking.”
She wasn’t joking, but I glance at my brother.
He grins too. “I can’t wait to watch Pop burn that notebook. Thousand bucks says he cries.”
“Who says she wants me back? He might still need it.”
“Are you kidding? There’s not a woman in the world who could resist your charm.”
“But he’ll need it for you.”
“Never. I’m irresistible too. Watch this. Hey, Georgia baby, what’cha doin’ tonight? Besides me?” He waggles his brows at Georgia.
She visibly throws up in her mouth. “I need a shower. And brain bleach. And a day off.”
“You don’t want to stay and cuddle and work up a plan for Grady with me?”
I push back to my feet and shove Cooper toward the door. “Quit harassing my assistant manager and go away.”
“I’m just making sure the bird doesn’t talk smack about your bae.”
“Don’t even say bae again. And take the bird with you.”
“Rawk! Death first! Rawk!”
“Got a juicy steak with your name on it, bird,” Cooper says while he chases Long Beak Silver around the dining room.
“You can’t feed a bird steak.”
“Okay, fine. The steak’s for me. But I can’t eat with someone who likes bugs for a snack. That’s disgusting.”
“You wear the same socks all season, and a bird eating a bug is disgusting?”
“We’re talking about you, bro. Go get the girl. I’ll get the bird out of your bakery.”
Go get the girl.
Great sentiment.
“She wants you back, Grady,” Cooper says. “This isn’t like last time. She’s not leaving. And if she does, you can fucking go with her. But it’s your choice. If you don’t think you can man up—”
I don’t stay to listen to the rest of his motivational speech.
Because if I’m going to fight for the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted, I need to do it my way.
48
Grady
Ten miles is a long time to weigh all your faults.
By the time I reach Sarcasm town limits, I’m pretty fucking convinced I’m fighting an uphill battle with a seven-million-pound boulder.
She was right. We shouldn’t have kept our relationship a secret.
I have every excuse in the book.
She had enough stress without all the gossips being gossips.
Her life’s upside down right now.
It was good for business.
I won’t apologize for that last one. Not when the Duh-Nuts parking lot is packed.
Running a profitable business has to be taking one more worry off her plate.
But the biggest excuse I have for keeping us a secret is one that I didn’t want to face.
That fear that she’d break me all over again.
If we stayed a secret, then it would hurt less when we were through, because fewer people would know.
That’s the line I fed myself.
And it was bullshit.
The only thing keeping me from hurting right now is sheer determination to prove to her that she’s worth fighting for, and that I’ll never stop fighting so long as I have a sliver of hope that she still wants me back.
I know Annika.
Once she’s put her mind to something, she’s all in.
She’s decided she’s done with me.
It’s my job to change that, and I swear to fuck, I won’t stop until I’m convinced she’s not doing this out of the same fear I have.
That I’ll leave.
I park around the corner in front of the Sunny Day Funeral Home—nicely played, Sarcasm—because it’s the first place I can find a parking spot. The sidewalks are empty since everyone’s already at Duh-Nuts.
Celebrating their victory on the morning show.
The bells jingle when I pull the door open, and realization that the enemy is in their midst gradually filters through the dining room, which is packed past capacity with people drinking coffee and eating breakfast egg waffles and chocolate-glazed donuts.
Amy looks up from the cash register and grins.
Then frowns.
Then grins again.
“What are you doing here?” one of the guys I recognize from the Sarcasm softball team asks me.
“He came to rub in that he won,” someone else says. “Oh, no, wait…Ha! Loser.”
“Annika?” I ask Amy.
She shakes her head. “Not in today.”
That’s not good. “Bailey?”
“School, dude. That time of year.”
“Maria?”
She jerks her head toward the kitchen.
“You’re not going back there,” someone informs me.
“Roger’s with her,” Amy calls. “She’ll be fine. Let the man pass.”
I get patted down for weapons—hello, overkill—and everyone growls at me or mocks me while I weave through the crowd to the kitchen door.
Roger the plumber spots me from his spot at the stove, where he’s scrambling more eggs. “What do you want?” he growls.
“Who’s there?” Maria’s at the workbench, rolling out sugar cookie dough, which is pretty fucking amazing.
“Grady Rock, ma’am.”
She feels for a spot to put the rolling pin and sits back on the stool. “Are you here to fight or make up?”
“Ultimately? Make up. But I’ll fight for it if I have to.”
Roger skewers me with a glare that could melt steel.
“You sound quite determined.”
“I love her.”
She smiles softly. “You always did.”
I nod, then remember she can’t see. “Yes.”
“She’s very reluctant to love. That’s my fault.”
“The hell it is,” Roger mutters.
“She had other priorities,” I offer. “Still does.”
“And that’s also my fault.”
“Know what else is your fault?”
Roger spins so fast, egg bits fly off his spatula and splatter over the cookie dough.
“Oh, please tell me,” Maria says wryly.
“It’s your fault she’s strong and smart and capable. And it’s your fault she has a huge heart hiding behind her walls. And it’s your fault she knows the value of real family.”
“I certainly have a long list of faults.” A smile teases the corners of her lips. “Maybe we should talk about some of yours.”
“I can name a few,” Roger says.
“I’ve known this boy for fourteen years. I can name more than a few. But if he’s here, I hope that means he’s working on fixing one or two of them. Does your family know you’re here?”
“They probably have a clue.”
“And what do they think of you coming into enemy territory?”
“If they’re not willing to support us, then I don’t give a damn.”
I don’t.
I don’t care if everyone decides to stop coming to Crow’s Nest for baked goods if I’m openly dating a woman from Sarcasm. I don’t care if Tillie Jean wants to hold a grudge forever because Annika’s sister can make kick-ass banana pudding.
I don’t care if I find out I’m just not that interesting and that’s why my bakery dies.
“I’d rather we put the whole damn feud behind us,” I tell Maria.
“Unless it’s good for business.”
She’s cheeky today.
“I don’t care about the business. Take my business. You can have it. I just want Annika back.”
“She’s not here.”
My heart stops.
Full-on stops.
“She—she went back to the Army?”
Not a problem. I can find her. I can go to her. I’ll sell my house. I’ll sell Crow’s Nest. I’d sell my truck, but it would be a long walk to Texas.
Maria laughs. “No, no. She’s home. Taking the day off. Roger, where are my keys?”
“You’re letting him in your house?” the plumber asks.
“You’re only young once, and these two have wasted enough time pretending they can live without each other. Yes, I’m letting him in my house. Besides, Annika has ten years of Army training. She’ll take care of him if she needs to.”
My eyes get hot when Roger hands me the key to Maria’s house.
He looks like he’d rather disembowel me, but that’s how some relationships go.
And I’m glad Annika has a guy like this in her corner.
I’m glad her whole family does.
And if they’ll let me, I’ll be the second.
49
Annika
Mama’s making chocolate chip cookies. She’s in the kitchen, which is in a tent on a boat, which is a little weird, but she’s cooked on alligator backs before too, so this isn’t outside the range of normal.
I just hope the milk doesn’t spill into the snapping turtles.
Into?
Onto.
Spill onto the turtles.
I suck in a deep breath of cookie goodness again, and that’s when reality comes crashing down around me.
Mama can’t see.
She shouldn’t be using the oven. Not alone, anyway.
My eyes fly open, the blank stars on my ceiling sit there and stare back at me, and I leap out of bed.
Then I remember my entire body is one huge overworked muscle of pain, and I squeak and go down.
My ass lands on the thin carpet with a jolt, and I swear on mama’s cinnamon rolls, I am never dating again, because then I’ll never be motivated to do something as stupid as making up my own triathlon of death again.
“Annika? You okay?”
Grady leans in my doorway and looks down at me, concern etched in his blue-green eyes, which are definitely more green today, and I must still be dreaming, because Grady Rock is in Mama’s house.
Except this is Mama’s house.
My old twin bed with the saggy mattress.
The stars on the ceiling.
The now-faded Harry Potter movie poster hiding the hole in the wall where I accidentally put a softball through it when Bailey was a baby, right next to my posters of Paris and Disney World and Australia.
This isn’t a dream.
Grady’s in Mama’s house, looking at me like I didn’t tell him to take a flying leap and get out of my life yesterday.
My heart launches into space and takes my brain with it.
“Mama?” I croak, because that’s all my voice can muster.
“She’s at Duh-Nuts. Are you okay?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t give up on the people I love. You want a cookie? Just came out of the oven. And they go equally well with milk or Jack. Your choice.”
I blink at him.
Then blink again.
My vision blurs, but he’s still standing there.
“Why?” I whisper.
“You always liked my cookies.”
“No, why—why are you here?”
He crosses the room in three steps and squats to the floor in front of me. “I. Love. You.”
I’m supposed to say something, but panic is flooding my veins while my heart tries to bat it all away with a broom like it’s a mouse.
Grady loves me.
He loves me.
“And I’m not letting you go this time without a fight,” he adds, that beautiful blue-green gaze daring me to tell him he’ll have to fight for me.
Telling me he’ll enjoy the hell out of fighting for me.
Telling me I’m worth fighting for.
Oh.
He’s here.
He came back.
He loves me.
“I can’t fight,” I rasp out, because once I say I love you too, it’s out, and I can’t take it back, and I do. I love him. I love him and I was such an asshole yesterday and I don’t deserve him being back.
“You can’t?” he murmurs.
“I can’t even lift my pinky finger,” I confess.
He ducks his head, but I know he’s grinning. “Overdid it yesterday?”
“Shut up.”
“Aw, Annika.” He moves to sit next to me, wraps an arm around me, and reaches across with his other hand to stroke my aching bicep like it’s not a big deal that I’m sitting here about to have a mental breakdown because I told him to take a flying leap and he came back.
He came back to fight for me.
In Mama’s house.
Which means she probably knows he’s here.
“Hurt here?” he asks.
“A little,” I lie. And then I realize what I’m doing. I snap straight and pull away, even though it makes my stomach muscles groan and puts a cramp in my back that radiates pain down my leg. “Stop making me lie.”
“You know that selfie we took last week with Sue? When the Fireballs were losing by eight in the second inning? I shared that on the bakery wars scorekeeping page this morning.”
Dammit. Now he’s making my eyes water too. “You did?”
“I was never ashamed of you, Annika. You’re not a dirty secret. You’re my kryptonite.”
“I’m a glowing piece of alien rock?” Distraction. Yes.
Definitely distraction so I can find my courage to love him back.
He strokes my back, and all my sore muscles give a shudder of relief under his careful touch.
“You’re the only person in the world who can break me.” His eyes are steady, but he can’t fully hide the vulnerability at the confession.
And I can’t leave him hanging there alone.
If he’s going out on a shaky tree limb, I need to be there with him.
“I can relate,” I whisper.
“It’s fucking terrifying.”
“Beyond terrifying.”
“So much easier to pretend this isn’t real so it hurts less when it’s over, than it is to let myself hope we could have forever.”
“I hate being afraid.”
“Fuck being afraid. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I will always love you. Through time and space and distance, and burnt cookies and family crises and horny goats. All of it. We’ll argue and fight sometimes. But I will always come back. Loving you is the one thing I do better than anything else, and I fucking love loving you. Even when it’s hard. So yeah. I’m here. And I’m gonna shout to the world every day for the rest of my life how much I love you. Because I do. I love you.”
I should be fresh out of tears, but here they come again. “I’m sorry,” I choke out.
“If the next words out of your mouth are I can’t do this, rest assured you can, and we both know you can, and I’ll keep coming back.”
I shake my head, and my neck muscles groan in protest and send a fiery ball of pain down my spine. “I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday.”
“I have this crazy feeling it won’t be the last time.”
“I don’t want to yell at you.”
“We could make up.”
I grimace, because while my vagina would enjoy that, she’s feeling beat up by proximity to the rest of my body.
“You can’t move at all, can you?”
“I’m fine. Fucking dammit, Grady, I hate lying.”
He chuckles and scoots closer to use both hands on my aching back. “That’s not a lie. That’s bravado. How about I feed you warm chocolate chip cookies while you soak in a hot bath, and when you’re feeling human again in another week or three, you can show me around this little town you call home.”
I whimper.
“Is there anywhere that doesn’t hurt?”
Is there?
I take stock of my body, and yes.
There’s one place that definitely does not hurt.
“My heart,” I tell him. “My heart doesn’t hurt at all.”
He smiles at me, all dimpled and warm-eyed and full of love, and I realize I haven’t said it back.
“You’re worth waiting for,” he says softly, like he knows what I’m thinking, and I thought I’d fallen for Grady Rock before, first in high school, then when he brought me ice cream, again when he figured out my secret and saved all our asses at Duh-Nuts, but I was wrong.
I hadn’t fallen.
Not like this.
“I love you so much,” I choke out, and it’s hard, but so very, very worth it.
Because my heart takes wings and Grady pulls me into his arms, his breath going ragged while he blinks hard, and I finally understand what it means to be someone’s everything.
It’s a huge responsibility.
And it’s one I will happily bear for the rest of my life.
50
Grady
My love doesn’t half-ass anything.
Including beating herself up.
Guess it’s good for both of us that I’ve finally found my own stubborn streak.
My family ushers everyone out the door, all of them sending me knowing looks. Finally, it’s just me and Georgia again.
Me, Georgia, Long Beak Silver, and Cooper, that is.
“What?” I snarl at Cooper.
“Just making sure I don’t have to fight any domestic enemies,” he replies.
“Rawk! Eat that pussy! Rawk!”
“Someone please shoot that bird,” I mutter.
He swoops through the dining room and poops on my head.
“Grady, you’ve got it bad,” Georgia says.
I start to glower at her, but she holds both hands up. “Slow down, master baker. I don’t give two pirate coins who you love. I care that she’s good enough for you and she loves you back. Is she worth this?”
She gestures to me in all my snarly, heartbroken glory, and I sink into the nearest chair and rub my neck.
“She’s worth it,” I tell the floor.
“Then get up off your ass and do something about it.”
I lift my head and study her.
She rolls her eyes and puts a fist on her hip. “Can’t fight love. And if you can find it with someone from a town your family has vilified for years, then maybe there’s hope for the rest of us. Even if I still think they cheated yesterday.”
I growl.
She grins. “You really do have it bad. Also, can you please tell Cooper not to mop the floor with me for saying they cheated? I was joking.”
She wasn’t joking, but I glance at my brother.
He grins too. “I can’t wait to watch Pop burn that notebook. Thousand bucks says he cries.”
“Who says she wants me back? He might still need it.”
“Are you kidding? There’s not a woman in the world who could resist your charm.”
“But he’ll need it for you.”
“Never. I’m irresistible too. Watch this. Hey, Georgia baby, what’cha doin’ tonight? Besides me?” He waggles his brows at Georgia.
She visibly throws up in her mouth. “I need a shower. And brain bleach. And a day off.”
“You don’t want to stay and cuddle and work up a plan for Grady with me?”
I push back to my feet and shove Cooper toward the door. “Quit harassing my assistant manager and go away.”
“I’m just making sure the bird doesn’t talk smack about your bae.”
“Don’t even say bae again. And take the bird with you.”
“Rawk! Death first! Rawk!”
“Got a juicy steak with your name on it, bird,” Cooper says while he chases Long Beak Silver around the dining room.
“You can’t feed a bird steak.”
“Okay, fine. The steak’s for me. But I can’t eat with someone who likes bugs for a snack. That’s disgusting.”
“You wear the same socks all season, and a bird eating a bug is disgusting?”
“We’re talking about you, bro. Go get the girl. I’ll get the bird out of your bakery.”
Go get the girl.
Great sentiment.
“She wants you back, Grady,” Cooper says. “This isn’t like last time. She’s not leaving. And if she does, you can fucking go with her. But it’s your choice. If you don’t think you can man up—”
I don’t stay to listen to the rest of his motivational speech.
Because if I’m going to fight for the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted, I need to do it my way.
48
Grady
Ten miles is a long time to weigh all your faults.
By the time I reach Sarcasm town limits, I’m pretty fucking convinced I’m fighting an uphill battle with a seven-million-pound boulder.
She was right. We shouldn’t have kept our relationship a secret.
I have every excuse in the book.
She had enough stress without all the gossips being gossips.
Her life’s upside down right now.
It was good for business.
I won’t apologize for that last one. Not when the Duh-Nuts parking lot is packed.
Running a profitable business has to be taking one more worry off her plate.
But the biggest excuse I have for keeping us a secret is one that I didn’t want to face.
That fear that she’d break me all over again.
If we stayed a secret, then it would hurt less when we were through, because fewer people would know.
That’s the line I fed myself.
And it was bullshit.
The only thing keeping me from hurting right now is sheer determination to prove to her that she’s worth fighting for, and that I’ll never stop fighting so long as I have a sliver of hope that she still wants me back.
I know Annika.
Once she’s put her mind to something, she’s all in.
She’s decided she’s done with me.
It’s my job to change that, and I swear to fuck, I won’t stop until I’m convinced she’s not doing this out of the same fear I have.
That I’ll leave.
I park around the corner in front of the Sunny Day Funeral Home—nicely played, Sarcasm—because it’s the first place I can find a parking spot. The sidewalks are empty since everyone’s already at Duh-Nuts.
Celebrating their victory on the morning show.
The bells jingle when I pull the door open, and realization that the enemy is in their midst gradually filters through the dining room, which is packed past capacity with people drinking coffee and eating breakfast egg waffles and chocolate-glazed donuts.
Amy looks up from the cash register and grins.
Then frowns.
Then grins again.
“What are you doing here?” one of the guys I recognize from the Sarcasm softball team asks me.
“He came to rub in that he won,” someone else says. “Oh, no, wait…Ha! Loser.”
“Annika?” I ask Amy.
She shakes her head. “Not in today.”
That’s not good. “Bailey?”
“School, dude. That time of year.”
“Maria?”
She jerks her head toward the kitchen.
“You’re not going back there,” someone informs me.
“Roger’s with her,” Amy calls. “She’ll be fine. Let the man pass.”
I get patted down for weapons—hello, overkill—and everyone growls at me or mocks me while I weave through the crowd to the kitchen door.
Roger the plumber spots me from his spot at the stove, where he’s scrambling more eggs. “What do you want?” he growls.
“Who’s there?” Maria’s at the workbench, rolling out sugar cookie dough, which is pretty fucking amazing.
“Grady Rock, ma’am.”
She feels for a spot to put the rolling pin and sits back on the stool. “Are you here to fight or make up?”
“Ultimately? Make up. But I’ll fight for it if I have to.”
Roger skewers me with a glare that could melt steel.
“You sound quite determined.”
“I love her.”
She smiles softly. “You always did.”
I nod, then remember she can’t see. “Yes.”
“She’s very reluctant to love. That’s my fault.”
“The hell it is,” Roger mutters.
“She had other priorities,” I offer. “Still does.”
“And that’s also my fault.”
“Know what else is your fault?”
Roger spins so fast, egg bits fly off his spatula and splatter over the cookie dough.
“Oh, please tell me,” Maria says wryly.
“It’s your fault she’s strong and smart and capable. And it’s your fault she has a huge heart hiding behind her walls. And it’s your fault she knows the value of real family.”
“I certainly have a long list of faults.” A smile teases the corners of her lips. “Maybe we should talk about some of yours.”
“I can name a few,” Roger says.
“I’ve known this boy for fourteen years. I can name more than a few. But if he’s here, I hope that means he’s working on fixing one or two of them. Does your family know you’re here?”
“They probably have a clue.”
“And what do they think of you coming into enemy territory?”
“If they’re not willing to support us, then I don’t give a damn.”
I don’t.
I don’t care if everyone decides to stop coming to Crow’s Nest for baked goods if I’m openly dating a woman from Sarcasm. I don’t care if Tillie Jean wants to hold a grudge forever because Annika’s sister can make kick-ass banana pudding.
I don’t care if I find out I’m just not that interesting and that’s why my bakery dies.
“I’d rather we put the whole damn feud behind us,” I tell Maria.
“Unless it’s good for business.”
She’s cheeky today.
“I don’t care about the business. Take my business. You can have it. I just want Annika back.”
“She’s not here.”
My heart stops.
Full-on stops.
“She—she went back to the Army?”
Not a problem. I can find her. I can go to her. I’ll sell my house. I’ll sell Crow’s Nest. I’d sell my truck, but it would be a long walk to Texas.
Maria laughs. “No, no. She’s home. Taking the day off. Roger, where are my keys?”
“You’re letting him in your house?” the plumber asks.
“You’re only young once, and these two have wasted enough time pretending they can live without each other. Yes, I’m letting him in my house. Besides, Annika has ten years of Army training. She’ll take care of him if she needs to.”
My eyes get hot when Roger hands me the key to Maria’s house.
He looks like he’d rather disembowel me, but that’s how some relationships go.
And I’m glad Annika has a guy like this in her corner.
I’m glad her whole family does.
And if they’ll let me, I’ll be the second.
49
Annika
Mama’s making chocolate chip cookies. She’s in the kitchen, which is in a tent on a boat, which is a little weird, but she’s cooked on alligator backs before too, so this isn’t outside the range of normal.
I just hope the milk doesn’t spill into the snapping turtles.
Into?
Onto.
Spill onto the turtles.
I suck in a deep breath of cookie goodness again, and that’s when reality comes crashing down around me.
Mama can’t see.
She shouldn’t be using the oven. Not alone, anyway.
My eyes fly open, the blank stars on my ceiling sit there and stare back at me, and I leap out of bed.
Then I remember my entire body is one huge overworked muscle of pain, and I squeak and go down.
My ass lands on the thin carpet with a jolt, and I swear on mama’s cinnamon rolls, I am never dating again, because then I’ll never be motivated to do something as stupid as making up my own triathlon of death again.
“Annika? You okay?”
Grady leans in my doorway and looks down at me, concern etched in his blue-green eyes, which are definitely more green today, and I must still be dreaming, because Grady Rock is in Mama’s house.
Except this is Mama’s house.
My old twin bed with the saggy mattress.
The stars on the ceiling.
The now-faded Harry Potter movie poster hiding the hole in the wall where I accidentally put a softball through it when Bailey was a baby, right next to my posters of Paris and Disney World and Australia.
This isn’t a dream.
Grady’s in Mama’s house, looking at me like I didn’t tell him to take a flying leap and get out of my life yesterday.
My heart launches into space and takes my brain with it.
“Mama?” I croak, because that’s all my voice can muster.
“She’s at Duh-Nuts. Are you okay?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t give up on the people I love. You want a cookie? Just came out of the oven. And they go equally well with milk or Jack. Your choice.”
I blink at him.
Then blink again.
My vision blurs, but he’s still standing there.
“Why?” I whisper.
“You always liked my cookies.”
“No, why—why are you here?”
He crosses the room in three steps and squats to the floor in front of me. “I. Love. You.”
I’m supposed to say something, but panic is flooding my veins while my heart tries to bat it all away with a broom like it’s a mouse.
Grady loves me.
He loves me.
“And I’m not letting you go this time without a fight,” he adds, that beautiful blue-green gaze daring me to tell him he’ll have to fight for me.
Telling me he’ll enjoy the hell out of fighting for me.
Telling me I’m worth fighting for.
Oh.
He’s here.
He came back.
He loves me.
“I can’t fight,” I rasp out, because once I say I love you too, it’s out, and I can’t take it back, and I do. I love him. I love him and I was such an asshole yesterday and I don’t deserve him being back.
“You can’t?” he murmurs.
“I can’t even lift my pinky finger,” I confess.
He ducks his head, but I know he’s grinning. “Overdid it yesterday?”
“Shut up.”
“Aw, Annika.” He moves to sit next to me, wraps an arm around me, and reaches across with his other hand to stroke my aching bicep like it’s not a big deal that I’m sitting here about to have a mental breakdown because I told him to take a flying leap and he came back.
He came back to fight for me.
In Mama’s house.
Which means she probably knows he’s here.
“Hurt here?” he asks.
“A little,” I lie. And then I realize what I’m doing. I snap straight and pull away, even though it makes my stomach muscles groan and puts a cramp in my back that radiates pain down my leg. “Stop making me lie.”
“You know that selfie we took last week with Sue? When the Fireballs were losing by eight in the second inning? I shared that on the bakery wars scorekeeping page this morning.”
Dammit. Now he’s making my eyes water too. “You did?”
“I was never ashamed of you, Annika. You’re not a dirty secret. You’re my kryptonite.”
“I’m a glowing piece of alien rock?” Distraction. Yes.
Definitely distraction so I can find my courage to love him back.
He strokes my back, and all my sore muscles give a shudder of relief under his careful touch.
“You’re the only person in the world who can break me.” His eyes are steady, but he can’t fully hide the vulnerability at the confession.
And I can’t leave him hanging there alone.
If he’s going out on a shaky tree limb, I need to be there with him.
“I can relate,” I whisper.
“It’s fucking terrifying.”
“Beyond terrifying.”
“So much easier to pretend this isn’t real so it hurts less when it’s over, than it is to let myself hope we could have forever.”
“I hate being afraid.”
“Fuck being afraid. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I will always love you. Through time and space and distance, and burnt cookies and family crises and horny goats. All of it. We’ll argue and fight sometimes. But I will always come back. Loving you is the one thing I do better than anything else, and I fucking love loving you. Even when it’s hard. So yeah. I’m here. And I’m gonna shout to the world every day for the rest of my life how much I love you. Because I do. I love you.”
I should be fresh out of tears, but here they come again. “I’m sorry,” I choke out.
“If the next words out of your mouth are I can’t do this, rest assured you can, and we both know you can, and I’ll keep coming back.”
I shake my head, and my neck muscles groan in protest and send a fiery ball of pain down my spine. “I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday.”
“I have this crazy feeling it won’t be the last time.”
“I don’t want to yell at you.”
“We could make up.”
I grimace, because while my vagina would enjoy that, she’s feeling beat up by proximity to the rest of my body.
“You can’t move at all, can you?”
“I’m fine. Fucking dammit, Grady, I hate lying.”
He chuckles and scoots closer to use both hands on my aching back. “That’s not a lie. That’s bravado. How about I feed you warm chocolate chip cookies while you soak in a hot bath, and when you’re feeling human again in another week or three, you can show me around this little town you call home.”
I whimper.
“Is there anywhere that doesn’t hurt?”
Is there?
I take stock of my body, and yes.
There’s one place that definitely does not hurt.
“My heart,” I tell him. “My heart doesn’t hurt at all.”
He smiles at me, all dimpled and warm-eyed and full of love, and I realize I haven’t said it back.
“You’re worth waiting for,” he says softly, like he knows what I’m thinking, and I thought I’d fallen for Grady Rock before, first in high school, then when he brought me ice cream, again when he figured out my secret and saved all our asses at Duh-Nuts, but I was wrong.
I hadn’t fallen.
Not like this.
“I love you so much,” I choke out, and it’s hard, but so very, very worth it.
Because my heart takes wings and Grady pulls me into his arms, his breath going ragged while he blinks hard, and I finally understand what it means to be someone’s everything.
It’s a huge responsibility.
And it’s one I will happily bear for the rest of my life.
50
Grady
My love doesn’t half-ass anything.
Including beating herself up.
Guess it’s good for both of us that I’ve finally found my own stubborn streak.
