Goodbye Secrets (The Lost & Found Series book #2) (41 page)

Ray:
Sorry Annie got upset. She loves you so much, just like me.

Ray:
Can we have Morgan? Mama and Daddy want to say goodbye to her.

Ray:
They want to say goodbye to you, too.

Me:
Do you have enough room for her detail?

Ray:
Yes, you know I do.

Me:
Okay. After the party, we’ll pick up the girls’ things and swing over.

Ray:
Good, you’ll save Mama a trip ... she wants to whoop your ass!

Me:
You always were a mama’s boy!

Ray:
I told her that’s Grayson’s job! :)

Me:
Bye :|

I turn off my phone. The DJ starts playing dance music as people finish their meals. Grayson pulls me onto the floor when “Sexy Back” by Justin Timberlake starts playing. I had no idea he knew how to dance so well! I feel like, for the first time in a while, I’m having fun.

By eight-thirty in the evening, Grayson and I start going around to all of the tables to pass out holiday bonus checks. Everyone is wide-eyed and thanks us repetitively!

“Ready to head back, sweetheart?” Grayson’s arms encircle my waist from behind and he hugs me tightly to him.

“Yes! My dawgs are bahkin’!” I decide to hit him hard with my double accent as I lean my head back on his chest. I’ve always tried to come up with a cool name for it, but the best I could ever come up with is “Bostersey.” It’s not exactly “Brangelina,” but it works! That’s what happens, though, when you spend half your life in one place and half in another. People are never quite sure where I’m from anymore ... well, except for when I’m mad. You can take the girl out of Jersey, but you can’t take Jersey out of the girl!

“C’mon, then.” He kisses my neck, then pats my bottom. We head over to the coat check.

“Mr. James, your card!” The manager hands the paid bill and his card back.

“Yes, of course, thank you! Have a Happy Christmas!” They shake hands. I love how he says “happy Christmas” instead of “merry”—it’s cute. Grayson places my coat on my shoulders, then does the same for Morgan and Annie.

“Look, darling—snow!” Grayson says excitedly, holding his hands up when we get outside. I can’t help but giggle at his childlike behavior. This takes his attention away from the weather, and he offers me a shy smile. I think he’s a bit embarrassed at his excitement, especially with security around. He takes my left hand in his and places his right hand on my elbow, guiding me to the black Suburban waiting for us. “Easy, sweetheart, it’s slippery here.” He keeps his eyes peeled to the ground, scanning for any ice that may trip me up.

This is the Grayson I wish people would see. He’s kind, caring, thoughtful, and loving. I have a very long list detailing his wonderful attributes. He doesn’t show it often, but I know it bothers him that people think he treats me poorly. It bothers me, too. They’re wrong.

“Step up, love.” He nudges my elbow.

“Oh, sorry.” I shake out of my thoughts and do so. He slides in next to me, grabbing my hand immediately. Once we’re buckled, Derek puts the Suburban in gear and rolls out.

“Annie, I’m sorry you don’t want to stay with us tonight. You’re a lovely girl and we’ve really enjoyed being with you.” Grayson leans over me to tap her knee. I take Annie’s hand and squeeze it, but she pulls away. I feel a pang in my heart.

“Thank you, Grayson. I had a lot of fun baking with you today.” She smiles as she leans forward to see him. When she catches my eye, she sits back and turns me away quickly. Annie’s never once been upset with me. Never. I look past her to Morgan.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” I ask her.

“Nothing, Mum,” she looks out the window. Nope ... she’s lying. I’ll wait until we’re alone to press the matter more.

Our entourage arrives at the inn. It’s amazing how quiet it is when it snows, especially big, fluffy snow like this. You could hear a pin drop. I stop as we walk to the inn and bend my neck back. I stick my tongue out to catch snowflakes. The girls giggle and do the same.

“Okay, sweetheart, come now. You’ll catch a death of a cold out here! Really, love, girls, let’s go.” Grayson touches my back encouraging me to move along.

“You’re no fun!” I pout playfully.

“Well, I’ll have to change your mind about that, won’t I?” His brows shoot up and he lightly sucks in his whole bottom lip.
Hmm. I can’t wait.
I let my eyes do the talking.

“Okay, girls, go get your stuff. Annie, I’ll grab your phone.” I head toward the kitchen.

“Anything I can do, love?” Grayson yells.

“Yes, can you run the bath?” I call out and walk over to the counter. I look at the screen of the pink phone. Ten missed calls all from Ray. I head back out to the common area. The girls come running down the stairs. “Wait, that was too quick! Are you sure you have everything?” I try to grab Morgan’s bag.

“Ugh! Toothbrush, PJs, underwear, outfit, and sneakers!” Morgan goes through the list.

“Phone?” I ask. She waves it at me as if she’s saying
duh
. “Hey! Watch your eye tone with me!” I wave a finger. Of course not
the
finger—as much as I want to use that one, it would just be inappropriate. Grayson comes back down the stairs.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Morgy girl! Have fun, you two!” He gives them each a hug.

“Wait ... Mom, aren’t you coming?” Morgan pulls away.

“No, Morgan, I’m tired.”
Well, it is getting late.
“I want to spend time with Daddy before I go to sleep,” I add.

“Well, Nana and Pop Pop wanted to say goodbye to you.” Her voice goes up an octave. Oh, that’s what’s bothering her. Not only are we taking her away from Annie—we’re taking her away from Elise and Artie, too. She’ll see Hazel and Charlie because they are family, but with us leaving, we won’t see Ray and his family. Elise and Artie have always treated Morgan like a grandchild.

“I’ll say goodbye tomorrow, honey, when we pick you up. Give them my love.” I put my arm around her shoulder and guide her toward the door. I give her and Annie each a kiss and hug. They follow Scott and Brian out to the car.

“Bath time, baby,” Grayson says softly in my ear as we wave to them. He grabs my hand and we slowly walk to the stairs. I stop to pull my shoes off, wincing from the ache. Grayson picks up my shoes for me and we head up. “You are a very lovely woman, Mrs. James.” He opens the door to let us in.

“Why thank you, Mr. James.” I squeeze his hand as we reach the top step and walk to our room. “Will you join me, sir?” I play with the buttons of his shirt. He opens the door to let us in.

“Yes, but let me check on the water or the whole place will be joining us.” He pats my bottom and heads toward the bathroom.

I hike up my dress to pull my pantyhose down and off. Sitting on the bed, I examine the damage to my feet. They are puffy, indented with the outline of my shoes.

“All set, darling.” Grayson comes out from the bathroom. “Good Lord, sweetheart! Oh, you poor thing!” He sits next to me and pulls my feet onto his lap. “Flats from now on, aye?” he asks as he rubs them. “Becca, they’re like Cabbage Patch Kids’ feet.” He laughs lightly. I look down as he massages and find myself giggling as well. He’s right—they do! He brings my right foot up and kisses the top.

“Okay, come on, before the lukewarm bath gets cold.” I sigh and smack his arm lightly.

“You’ll be happy,” he says as he pulls me to my feet. “I’ve made it a smidge warmer. The doctor said it was okay for now.” He unhooks my dress while I remove my jewelry. I place the bracelet and earrings he gave me on the nightstand as Grayson helps me out of my dress. “Peel-and-sticks—my favorite.” He smiles as he slowly peels them off of me. I feel the right side of my mouth curl up into a half smile as I work at the buttons on his shirt.

“You are quite handsome, Mr. James.” I kiss each patch of skin I uncover.

He pulls my face up to his. “I cherish you, Becca. I have from the moment I first kissed you. I will always cherish you.” He almost seems sad.

“Grayson ...” That’s all I can manage to say.

“Come, Becca, let’s frolic and play in the tub.” He smirks playfully to lighten the mood. I pull his shirt off of his shoulders quickly.
God, he is beautiful!
Hand in hand, we head to the bathroom.

Grayson helps me into the tub. I can’t help but shake my head at him and roll my eyes a bit. I’m eight weeks, not eight months. Grayson didn’t lie. He made the bath close enough to the temperature I like it at. I immerse myself and inhale deeply the scent of coconut and vanilla.

“Scoot, sweetheart.” Grayson’s fingers tap my shoulder. I open my eyes and take in the full glorious sight of him.

“Grayson, you are very lovely to look at, baby.” I scan up and down one more time before scooting forward. Even his penis is beautiful, which still amazes me. I have never thought that about another penis in my life.

“You seem deep in thought ... care to share?” He slips in and pulls me back to him.

“You have a very attractive penis.” I sigh as if I’m discussing my favorite color or poem.

“Hmm, attractive and incredible—I’d say I’m one lucky bloke, but maybe you’re the lucky one, aye, sweetheart?” He tickles my side as I wash my face.

“Stop!” I laugh and try to pull away.

“All right, give me your washcloth,” he says. I comply. He applies bodywash to it and softly rubs my shoulders and back. He rinses, then kisses. He repeats this act on my arms and hands. I get on my knees and turn to him. He brings the facecloth across my clavicle, the top of my chest, over my breasts, and circles it around my nipples. I swallow hard, closing my eyes and allowing my erratic breathing (yeah, like I have a choice in how I breathe!). He travels down over my ribs and my belly, then dives in between my legs and rubs meticulously. I feel my tongue dampen my upper lip. He rinses me off and slowly trails his lips over my newly cleaned surfaces.

“Mmm ...” I moan lightly as his mouth makes its way to my left nipple. Gently I fist his hair and pull his head back so I can taste his mouth. His tongue greets mine purposefully.

“Bloody hell, Becca,” he groans against my lips as he hits the drain with his foot.

“Every time we try to get clean, Mr. James, we just end up getting dirtier.” I nip across his jawline.

“It’s way more fun to get dirty, darling.” He pulls me astride him. My back arches to allow him better access to my breast. My hips move rhythmically, anticipating when the water will drain to a safe level (it’s like waiting for a pot to boil). Grayson brings my mouth back to his. I pull away sharply and stare into his eyes—his familiar, loving eyes.

“Forever, baby.” I palm his face. “Forever.” I shake his head a smidge for emphasis. Grayson thrusts deeply inside of me. I gasp and rest my forehead against his as we find our groove. Within minutes, we quicken our pace. But I feel as if we’re sliding. “Gray ... baby, we’re moving,” I say against his lips.

“Yes we are, sweetheart.” He attacks my lips again. I find myself refocus on him.

“No, Gray, we’re moving ... sliding.” I pull away. He slows his pace and opens his eyes.

“Oh.” He chuckles. He stops and puts his hand back into the tub to slide us back. We move a little too quickly. Grayson loses his balance and lands on his back with me hanging off of him.

“Uh ... Gray.” I try to stifle my giggle as I look around at the oil-slicked tub. “How much oil did you put in here?”

“Oh ... about this much.” He shuffles his hand, pointing around the tub nonchalantly.

“So ... probably a tad bit more than recommended?” I bite back my smile.

“I believe your assumption would be correct, darling.” He pulls my lip from my teeth. “Go ahead, sweetheart—have yourself a good laugh ... at my expense, mind you.”

I do just that and top it off with a kiss on his pouty lips. I resituate on Grayson and rest my hands on his chest. Slowly, I get us back on track. Within moments we come undone together.

“Hey, can you call Scott or Brian to make sure the girls got there and settled in okay?” I ask as I finish toweling my hair dry. We would’ve called half an hour ago, but we needed to shower all of this oil off our skin and hair. I think I will smell of coconut and vanilla for a week without applying anything!

“Sure, love.” He yawns and grabs his phone. “Scott, everyone settled? Good.” He nods to me. “Morgan asleep? Oh.” He pulls the phone away from his ear to look at it. “Okay. Just tell her that we love her and she should go to bed after the movie is over. Okay, yes. Full report, thank you. Night, then.” He hangs up.

“Full report on what?” I look over as I apply lotion to my legs.

“Don’t think you need the lotion tonight, sweetheart, after the hot oil treatment you just got.” Raising his eyebrows, he takes the bottle and puts in on my dresser.

“Habit.” I shrug. “What report?” I ask again.

“Just on the sleepover. If anything is said. You know me, Becca—stage direction and all.” He plops next to me and turns on the TV.

“Let’s not watch TV, baby. Will you read to me?” I turn the TV off.

“Read to you?” His index finger caresses my cheek.

“Yes!” I say with childlike excitement as I jump out of bed and head over to the bookcase. I retrieve
A Christmas Carol
by Charles Dickens, which I brought with me from Grayson’s ... uh ...
our
house. “I’m right here.” I open it and point to where I left off. “Will you read it to me? I love to listen to your voice ... except for when you’re yelling at me. No, actually, that’s pretty hot too! Damn you and your British accent!” I kiss him quickly and grab his Clark Kents. “Professor,” I say as I place them on his nose. He smiles and pecks at my lips. We snuggle into each other comfortably.