Grace's Redemption, page 13
His eyes settled on me as he pulled back, all humor gone, total seriousness in its place. “I know this is—”
“A mess?”
“To put it mildly,” he said. “And confusing. But—” He ran a hand over his face as if that would clear the fog. “All I could think of, driving back to the house from the coroner’s office, was that I needed to feel alive. And please don’t freak out and bolt when I say this, but I needed that with my wife.” His fingers stroked my cheek. “And that’s you.”
I swallowed hard.
What could I say to that? Nothing. I had no words. I couldn’t even blink as my eyes filled with hot tears.
“Shit, now I made you cry.”
I laughed as I finally blinked the tears free and swiped them off my cheeks. “No. Sorry, I just—” I blew out a breath. “An emotional day today, I guess.” I met his gaze again. “Did it, um, freak you out? To think like that?”
“A little, maybe.” He stared off, unfocused. “Until I got here, and . . . I don’t know, it just suddenly made sense.” He darted a glance at me. “In a world that completely makes no sense.”
I smiled and rested back on his chest, taking all of it for whatever I could. It was crazy. And might not last outside of this room. But right then, right in that moment, it was everything.
“So, tell me, Grace McMasters—” he began, pausing as if unsure whether to add his last name to mine. Just days ago, he’d thrown that out there in a heartbeat to jack with me. Now, it didn’t feel like a joke. “Where would I take my wife and daughter to dinner in Redemption? Give me the hot spots.”
“Mmm, well, you’ve seen the diner.”
“I have.”
“There’s a Mexican restaurant off Main called Casa Queso.”
I felt him turn his head. “The House of Cheese?”
I chuckled. “Hey, I didn’t name it. There’s a small pizza place down from there. And . . . Rudy’s Bar.”
“Yeah, probably not a good idea for Olivia,” he said.
“Probably not,” I said. “Although they have great hot wings there. So, anyway, you have three out of four.”
“What did you do around here growing up?” he asked. “With three restaurants and a bar.”
“Two back then,” I said. “But we had more church picnics and stuff. Town hall dances.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a riotous life.”
I chuckled. “Well, other kids probably did a lot more than we were allowed to. Or me and Faith, anyway. Hope—” I smirked. “Hope always made the best of any situation. She was fearless—still is. She managed to be anti-anything that my father wanted, regardless of the punishment.” I rubbed the sudden goosebumps on my exposed arm and Mateo joined me. “I was never that brave.”
“You’re one of the bravest women I’ve ever met, Grace.”
I opened my mouth to speak but a thump from another part of the house stopped my words and very nearly my heart as we both stiffened.
A little knock landed on his door. “Daddy?”
CHAPTER TEN
Mateo
A zing of doubt shot through me. Had I locked the door? I’d never—fuck, I’d never brought a woman to my bed with Olivia home. But one quick glance at the doorknob and my heart rate slowed. Then I looked back to the sheer panic on Grace’s face and I had to grin. Teacher was completely freaked out.
“Shit, shit, shit,” she whispered under her breath, tearing out of the bed with her cute naked ass, fumbling for her glasses and clothes.
“Breathe, Grace,” I murmured, sliding out of bed.
“Mateo!” She shot a wide-eyed look to the door.
“It’s locked,” I mouthed, making the locking motion with my thumb and finger. “Hey, Doodlebug,” I called. “Give Daddy just a sec. I’m getting dressed, okay?”
“’Kay, Daddy.” Little feet padded away down the hall.
I shot Grace lifted brows, trying to calm her.
Didn’t work.
She yanked on her leggings like her legs were on fire.
I rounded the bed and put my hands on her shoulders. “Hey,” I whispered. “You okay?”
She froze and dark eyes lifted to mine. “Am I okay? We just got busted in bed by your four-year-old. By my student.”
Neither of us spoke the other word, the other connection she had to Olivia. That thing that neither of us knew what to do with. Not yet.
That thing that I’d needed today, but I hadn’t felt in years.
God, for the first time in I don’t know how long, I’d wanted to come home to someone other than Olivia and share my misery. And today was miserable. I’d seen a lot of shitshows in my career, but today was . . . today was a nightmare. The depravity of people rarely got to me anymore, but when it did, it was enough to suck me under. I was more grateful than she’d ever know that Grace was able to drown out some of that darkness with her light. Even for a little while.
I ran a hand down the soft skin of her arm before taking the t-shirt from her and helping her put it back on, then landing a kiss to her mouth. “We weren’t busted. She’s clueless.”
She frowned, clearly not convinced. “If she—”
“Relax.” I pressed my lips to the frown line between her eyes before drawing away to yank on my own clothes. “Just give me a couple of minutes to distract her in the kitchen, then slip out. She’ll never know a thing.”
“God.” Her shoulders sagged. “I feel like a teenager sneaking out.” Her eyes met mine again. “And I never did that.”
“You didn’t?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s about time.” I offered her a smile, which she reluctantly returned. “Okay.” I sucked in a dramatic breath. “Operation: Divert Olivia is on.” I turned for the door, then glanced back. “Call ya later about that date, Mrs. B.?”
This made her smile grow. “Sure, Mr. B.”
I stepped out in the hall and quickly closed the door behind me, then moved to find Olivia. She was zoned out in front of the TV with her favorite cartoon.
“Hey, Doodlebug.” I ruffled her hair. “How was your nap?”
“Good.” She yawned.
“Hungry?”
“Mm-hmm.” She didn’t seem inclined to move. I needed to think fast, or Grace would be walking right into a pint-sized landmine.
“So . . .” I waited until her sleepy eyes met mine. “I was thinking we could make pizza tonight for dinner. What do you think?”
“Really?”
“Really.” I held out a hand. “Wanna come get some juice and help me find the ingredients?”
She jumped up and grabbed my outstretched palm. “Can we put pepperonis on it?”
“We can put whatever you want on it.”
“Jellybeans?”
We entered the kitchen and I flipped on the light. “Well . . . maybe not jellybeans.”
Olivia giggled and moved to leave the room.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
She spun back. “I forgot my blankie.”
My eyes shot up when I thought I heard the gentle click of a door. “You don’t need your blankie in the kitchen. You might get juice on it.” I tilted my head toward the fridge. “Come on. Let’s look for the cheese and pepperoni.”
She hesitated for a moment, but I breathed a sigh of relief when she came over and we both ducked our heads into the fridge.
“So, whatcha think?” I asked, pouring white grape juice into her favorite red cup. I screwed the cap on and opened the bottom drawer to divert her as long as I could. “Should we add some veggies?”
“Yucky, Daddy.”
“Fair enough.”
I slid open the meat drawer. “Anything besides pepperoni? How about—”
Suddenly, Olivia wiggled out from under my arm and snapped her head around the fridge door. “Miss M.?”
Fuuuuuck . . .
With an internal groan, I uncoiled to stand and slowly slid my gaze to the kitchen threshold, where Grace was frozen midstep, her face painted a lovely shade of crimson.
“Sorry,” I mouthed just as Olivia raced over to hug her legs.
“What are you doing here?” Olivia grinned up at her. “I thought you went home.”
“Oh.” Wide eyes met mine from behind her glasses. “I . . .”
“Miss M. was tired and needed a nap too, Doodlebug.” I shrugged and Grace bit back a smile.
“Right,” she said. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“No.” Olivia let her go and spun around, totally awake now. “Me and Daddy are gonna make pizza tonight. Do you like pizza? Want some?” She took Grace’s hand and drew her into the kitchen before she could answer. “Daddy says we can’t put jellybeans on it, but we have pepperonis and yucky veggies if you want ’em.” She was bouncing on her toes now. “I don’t want ’em.”
Grace’s amazing eyes met mine. “That’s too bad about the jellybeans.”
“Maybe for dessert,” I said with a smile.
“Good plan.”
“So will you stay?” Olivia pressed, her eyes pleading. “We can go play bubbles outside!”
Grace shot me a look before turning back to Olivia, I knew to give me an out. The fact that I didn’t want one was sobering.
“Up to you, Miss M.,” I said softly, feeling the smile pull at my lips.
Grace blinked rapidly, as if my gaze held her, and then averted her eyes. “And what does ‘bubble’ start with, Olivia?” she asked, ever the teacher.
“Bubble . . .” Olivia sounded it out, her little lips working the sounds. “Bub, Bu, Bu . . . B?”
“Yes. Very good.” Grace grinned at me with pride. “Let’s go play bubbles.”
We moved to the backyard, where Olivia did most of the blowing as Grace and I watched, though Grace did get in on the action a little bit. Olivia chattered on animatedly. She was an innocent four-year-old. Of course, teachers got tired and took naps at their students’ houses. And Grace was being such a good sport.
I nudged her shoulder with mine. “You don’t have to stay,” I murmured under my breath.
She smiled so sweetly it made my chest ache, then she scoffed. “I’m only here for the jellybeans.”
I winked. “Of course.”
Later, after two full bottles of bubbles, a coloring contest, and Olivia’s very melodramatic twist on freeze tag, we came in to clean up and start dinner.
I excused myself to go dig through boxes to find an extra pan. When I came back, I took a moment to watch the two of them together. At the incredible normalness of the day. I searched my heart for the expected pang. The grief. The hit I always took when I thought about what Olivia was missing by not having her mom around.
We hadn’t had an afternoon like this with more than just us since Maria died. I never let anyone close enough to do that. Yes, the pain was still there, but it was duller. Faded. An ache of a healing bruise. I couldn’t bring her back. God knows I’d prayed for that enough times, sobbed and begged and offered my own life in some sort of miraculous exchange when the agony got too brutal. But we had to play the hand we were dealt. I knew that. In time, Olivia would too.
As if sensing my wayward thoughts, Grace’s gaze drifted my way, a soft, maternal smile still on her face from whatever Olivia had said. Her brows dipped gently, silently asking me what was wrong.
I shook my head, telling her it was nothing.
And that—right there—felt like a kick in the gut. How the hell had we gotten to that level of understanding?
Eventually, the three of us sat down to homemade pizza that was pretty damned good if I did say so myself. And, instead of jellybeans for dessert, I wowed my new wife with my homemade chocolate chip cookies. I wasn’t much of a cook, but I could follow a recipe, and my grandma’s cookies were amazing.
“So, what are you guys learning in school next week?” I asked, leaning back in my chair with the last of my milk.
“We’re working on the letter O and practicing more with counting,” Grace answered.
“O like Olivia,” my daughter said with a clap.
“Yes, exactly,” Grace said. “And do you know any other words that start with O?”
Olivia scrunched up her nose. “O . . .” She shook her head.
“Remember, O can have a long ooooo sound,” Grace said slowly, a content grin on her face. “Or a short ah sound. Like octopus!”
Olivia’s eyes got wide with delight. “Octopus?”
“Yes!” She turned to me. “Do you know any words?”
“Orange.”
“Very good.” Grace’s cheeks glowed, and Olivia’s legs swung with excitement.
When Olivia wasn’t looking, I wiggled my brows and mouthed, “Orgasm.”
Her eyes fluttered closed with a shake of her head and a laugh that I found myself chasing.
When the windows darkened with evening, I glanced at my watch. “Time for a bath and bed, Liv.”
Olivia faced me with a frown. “But, Daddy . . .”
“Don’t ‘but, Daddy’ me.” I tilted my head, letting her know I was serious.
She huffed out an adorable sigh, which I knew wouldn’t be as adorable in ten years, and opened her mouth to argue.
I held up a finger. “Ah, ah, young lady. Bath. Bed. Now.”
She shot Grace a look as if she might save her.
“Come on,” Grace said, holding out her hand. “How about if I help run your bath?” She sought my gaze, and I nodded.
Olivia reluctantly led Grace down the hall, and while they ran the bath, I rinsed dishes and loaded the dishwasher. Then I moved down the hall and peeked in the bathroom.
Grace sat on the floor next to the tub where Olivia played in water that was a mile-high with bubbles. As she dunked her mermaid toy under the water, Grace gently ran the washcloth over her back and spoke in a low, soothing tone.
“And the mermaid princess was lost and couldn’t find her prince,” she said. “But luckily, he found her . . .”
Sudden emotion crowded my throat, so I stepped back and strolled to the living room where I sunk onto the couch, dropping my head into my hands.
What the hell was happening?
I wanted Grace McMasters, but I didn’t want to want her. I knew it wasn’t cheating on Maria, but a tiny part of me owned that betrayal. Nothing about this situation made sense, and I knew I couldn’t rely on my feelings . . . yet since Grace had come into my life, I was nothing but a big bundle of fucking feelings. That was foreign. And damn dangerous. For me. For her. And especially for Olivia.
Or had I really been given a second chance? Had my own drunken lapse of judgment given me another shot at a life? At truly living again?
I raked a hand over my head and listened to the cadence of her voice as she spoke to Olivia and the rustle of the water as she bathed her. After a while, the water drained and they reappeared, Olivia in her pajamas, her hair wet and brushed back, up in Grace’s arms, her head on her shoulder.
My heart did a painful roll in my chest at the sight because I knew, in that moment, I was sunk. There was no disloyalty. Maria would want Olivia to have someone like Grace in her life. I felt that in my bones.
She’d want it for me, too.
No matter what happened between us—baby or no baby, marriage or no marriage—Grace McMasters-Beckett had indelibly etched herself on my heart just by being herself.
“Ready for bed?” I asked, keeping my voice soft.
Olivia nodded, her arms tight around Grace’s neck.
And the way Grace leaned into her hold, unconsciously pressing a kiss to her head? The sight hurt in all the best ways.
I stood and Grace followed me down the hall to Olivia’s room, where we tucked her in under the covers.
I made sure her favorite teddy bear was snuggled in with her, then kissed her forehead. “Good night, my angel. I love you.”
“Love you, Daddy.”
We moved toward the door and I flipped off the light, making sure her nightlight turned on.
“Good night, Olivia,” Grace said. “See you tomorrow.”
“’Night, Miss M.”
Out in the hallway, I pulled Olivia’s door almost all the way shut, then led Grace back out to the living room. I turned to her, and without giving it a moment’s thought, I forked my hands through her hair and yanked her toward me, kissing her like I’d been thinking about since the moment she left my bed.
She gave a small squeak of surprise, but she quickly melted into me, her fingers finding their way under my shirt to my back.
I slid my tongue along hers and dipped one palm to the small of her back to pull her closer. God, she tasted sweet. Like chocolate chips with a hint of sex.
After a minute, she drew back and dropped her forehead to my chest. “I should go,” she finally whispered.
“Okay.” But I didn’t let her loose.
“Mateo, I’m—I’m officially late today.” She lifted dark, conflicted eyes to mine. “I’m stopping to buy a test on the way home.”
My breath stalled in my lungs as we stared at each other. Any words I had were trapped in my throat. I knew this was coming. That it was a definite possibility, yet here I was a fucking ball of nerves.
“I just thought . . . I figured you’d want to know.”
Keep it together, Beckett.
“Okay,” I managed. “Do you want me to . . .” Hell, what was I trying to say? I let her go and raked a hand over my head before giving her a chagrined look. “Not sure the proper etiquette here. Is this where I offer to be there with you?”
She lifted a brow. “When I pee on a stick?” I shrugged and she chuckled. “I think I can handle it.”
“Do you wanna do it here?”
Her eyes grew round. “With Olivia in the next room? No, thanks. If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to find out the news in the privacy of my own bathroom.”
I fought the automatic feeling of rejection. This wasn’t about me. Still . . . I’d been right there with Maria, waiting together as we both watched those two little pink lines appear on the stick. I had to remind myself this was a totally different circumstance and Grace needed her space.
I nodded. “Okay.”
She crossed her arms as she studied me, her head tilted. “I’m not trying to leave you out. I know this is a big deal.”
