Authors: A. D. Ryan
I sigh. “Just one more thing we have in common, then,” I admit quietly, wiggling my hips against him in an effort to entice him to act on his fantasies. I’m shameless, I know.
“Unfortunately…” Disappointment floods my veins as I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t have to.
“Hey!” Toby calls out, his feet slapping loudly across the stone tiles of the patio.
“Doesn’t anybody knock anymore?” I mutter under my breath.
Chuckling, Greyston rubs my upper arm. “Easy, tiger.”
I look behind me to see Toby and Callie walking toward the pool, and then back at Greyston, who looks a little uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling incredibly guilty that he’s going to have to suffer.
Greyston smiles reassuringly and shakes his head before turning his attention to Toby. “I thought you were coming by at eleven?”
I turn around to see Toby arch an eyebrow at him before looking down at his watch. “It’s eleven-thirty.”
“It is?” Greyston inquires, looking at me, seemingly shocked. “Damn. Okay, why don’t you give me a few minutes to finish up out here and get changed?” Greyston asks Toby, who nods in response before heading back inside with Callie.
“Sorry,” Greyston apologizes. “I didn’t realize what time it was. I thought you had to work, so Toby and Callie were going to come over to go over a few things for my trip to Chicago.”
“Oh.” I nod. “Okay.”
“It shouldn’t take long,” he’s quick to assure me, pulling me back into his arms. “And then maybe we could pick up where we left off?”
“Perhaps,” I contemplate playfully before remembering something. “Oh… Our parents are coming for dinner today, remember?”
Greyston nods. “We’ve got plenty of time. Though, I will have to run into the store to pick up a few things. Care to tag along?”
“As if you even have to ask,” I tell him.
Greyston kisses me softly before we exit the pool. We grab our towels off the lounge chair, wrap them around our waists after drying our upper bodies, and head for the patio door hand-in-hand.
“I’m going to go and get dressed,” I announce.
Greyston leans forward and kisses the tip of my nose. It’s a small, innocent gesture, but it always serves to take my breath away while making me feel special and adored.
Leaning in, I ghost my lips over his. “But you better make good on your promise to make it up to me, Masters.”
His eyelids drop slightly, and he groans. It pleases me to know I have a very similar effect to the one he has on me. “I assure you, I will.”
“You two gonna spend all day making googly eyes and kissy faces at each other?” Toby says, closing the fridge behind me.
“Thought about it,” I joke, shooting a friendly wink Toby’s way.
Greyston looks to Callie, and then shakes his head at Toby. “I’m going to go and get dressed. I’ll be right down, and we can go over Mills’s contract.”
Once we’re in the hall between our rooms, I turn to Greyston. “I’m going to go and shower. You should head downstairs and do what it is you have to so I can have you all to myself for a bit before dinner.” Before tearing myself from his warm embrace, I pop up on my toes and kiss him softly.
He groans as I step away, and I can feel Greyston’s eyes on me as I make my way to my room. My newfound confidence stirs, and I reach for the bikini tie around my neck and tug it free. It falls slack around my neck. I clutch it to my chest before it falls and then turn to find Greyston gawking.
Smiling, I reach behind me and untie the other string. “You know, for every minute you stand there staring, you could be doing your work.” Feeling emboldened, I tear the top from my body and toss it at him, closing my door before he can get a good look.
I lean my back against the door and stifle a giggle when I hear him start to grumble. “That’s just mean,” he says loud enough for me to hear. “Thanks for the souvenir, though. I’ll be sure to keep it somewhere safe.”
His bedroom door closes across the hall, and I push myself off the door to hop in the shower quickly. Dressed in jeans and a fitted tee, I head downstairs to find Greyston, Toby, and Callie still at the kitchen table going over the folder splayed before them. “Hey,” I greet. “I’m kind of hungry, do you guys want lunch?”
Greyston’s the first to look up, smiling wide. “Sounds great, babe.”
It’s the first time he’s referred to me as anything but my name in front of others, and my breath catches slightly. My cheeks warm, and I avert my eyes when Callie and Toby exchange a glance between them. “Anything in particular?” I inquire, opening the fridge and rifling through it. “I could make soup and sandwiches?”
No one objects, so I set out making lunch. By the time it’s ready, they’re just finishing up with work, and we all sit around the kitchen table. I take a seat next to Greyston, Toby sits on his other side, and Callie next to him.
“So, about Xander’s trip next week…” Greyston interjects. “Juliette suggested paintballing. Are the two of you up for it?”
Toby’s the first to agree, not even pausing to think about it. “Hells yeah! Come on, Cal, it’ll be a lot of fun.” It takes a minute, but she decides to join in, and we begin to figure out what day might work best for everyone. I make a mental note to text Daphne later to find out her availability. She’ll be so excited when she finds out that the ball player she was drooling over will be there.
After lunch, Callie and Toby head home. Greyston walks them to the door while I clean up our dishes. I’ve just finished loading the dishwasher when I feel strong hands on my hips and warm lips on my neck. It’s hard to focus on washing the pot in my hands with Greyston’s fingers teasing the sliver of skin between my shirt and jeans, so I give up trying.
“Thanks for lunch,” he whispers, his warm breath tickling the skin of my neck.
“If this is how you’re going to thank me for cooking, I might just have to do it more,” I tell him, turning in his arms. When my eyes catch the time on the stove, I groan. “I guess we should probably go to the store for whatever it is you need for dinner.”
Greyston tucks a strand of my damp hair behind my ear, his eyes showing remorse. “I’m sorry.”
His apology confuses me. “What for?”
“This can’t be what you expected when you took the day off to spend with me,” he explains with a shrug.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You didn’t know I took the day off,” I remind him. “And besides, it doesn’t really matter to me what we do with our time together.”
“I suppose you’re right. Okay, let’s go. We’ll have plenty of alone time after dinner tonight.” He leans in and kisses me softly before whispering, “And I promise to make this morning up to you.”
Giggling, I meet his intense gaze. “Come on. If we don’t go now, then we won’t get this done.”
That mischievous gleam has returned to his eyes, and he reaches for me again. “Oh, I think we could.”
Laughing, I place my palm flat against his chest, holding him at arm’s length. “Down, boy.”
Thankfully, it doesn’t take much convincing to get Greyston out the door, and soon we’re at the store, wandering the aisles, filling our basket with fresh produce for a salad. We continue through the store, grabbing fresh buns from the bakery and cheese from the deli before paying and heading home. Greyston and I each take a bag to carry, and when we arrive home, we set to work in the kitchen prepping dinner.
Greyston is apparently against buying pre-formed hamburgers and makes his own. After the burgers are formed, he covers the plate and puts them in the fridge before moving onto the salad. Just as he begins washing the vegetables, there’s a knock at the front door. I inhale sharply, my nerves taking hold, knowing that it could be Greyston’s parents at the door.
Sensing my apprehension, Greyston kisses my temple. “Relax. You stay here, and I’ll go get the door. Keep yourself busy by starting the salad,” he suggests, handing me the very large kitchen knife.
I laugh. “You really think it’s a good idea to be giving me a sharp knife? I’m shaking like a leaf.”
Shaking his head, Greyston sets the knife on the counter. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Sure. Take your time. Don’t rush.” Once he’s out of the room, I carefully pick up the knife and begin slicing the tomatoes for the salad. I’m just finishing up when I hear voices approaching—all three familiar to me.
Looking up, I see Greyston enter the kitchen first. My parents are flanking him, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Mom’s carrying a bowl of pasta salad, and Greyston promptly takes it from her and puts it in the fridge.
“Hey, Mom. Dad.” They both smile my way before their eyes briefly drift down to the counter I’m chopping vegetables on…the very one they saw Greyston and I on last weekend.
“How’s your weekend been?” I quickly ask, diverting their attention. “Good? I hope it’s been good.”
“She been drinking?” my dad asks, nudging Greyston.
I roll my eyes. “Har har,” I deadpan. “You’re a real comedian, Pop.”
“Why don’t I give both of you the tour while Juliette sobers up,” Greyston teases, shooting me a wink.
“Oh, good. Side with him,” I tell him. “We’ll see how that works to your advantage.”
“Why don’t you guys go on ahead? I’ll stay with Juliette,” Mom suggests with a laugh, moving behind me and placing her hands on my shoulders in a show of support.
Before Greyston and Dad leave us alone, Greyston grabs Dad a beer and Mom a glass of wine.
Mom perches herself on one of the stools. “How’ve you been, sweetheart?”
I smile wide, focusing on the cucumber I’m cutting so I don’t slice my finger. “Good…really good, actually.”
“You and Greyston seem to be getting closer.” My cheeks warm, filling with a deep blush, and this only invites her to dig a little deeper. “Oh, my. Just how
close
have you gotten, Juliette?” she prods playfully.
“What?” I ask, surprised, even though I really shouldn’t be; we’d had a very similar conversation when Ben and I were dating.
“Oh, don’t play innocent with me, Juliette. I’m your mother. We talk about these things.” She pauses, gauging my reaction, and when she deems it safe to continue, she smirks. “So, have the two of you had sex?”
“Oh my god!” I hiss. “Could you at least
try
to keep your voice down? As if Dad needs to know we’re having this discussion!” Mom only rolls her eyes and waves her hand in front of her, silently urging me to continue.
I sigh. “Okay, fine. But before I tell you anything else, let me preface this by saying that if the words ‘your father and I’ leave your mouth at any point, this conversation—or any future ones regarding this matter—will not happen. We clear?” She contemplates my terms for a moment before acquiescing with a nod. “Good.”
“So…?”
“No, actually we haven’t taken that step yet,” I confess, sounding
mostly
proud about it. The sexually frustrated lower half of my body isn’t super happy about it.
It’s Mom’s turn to be surprised—only hers is genuine. “Really?”
I press my index finger to my lips, reminding her to be quiet. “We’ve decided to wait, and Greyston has proven to be quite the gentleman; we’re moving forward at a good pace.”
Just then, Dad and Greyston come back into the kitchen, laughing. However, when Greyston’s eyes find mine, his laughter dies immediately. He looks from me to my mom, and then back to me, his concern growing by the second.
I force a smile, grab the dishtowel, and wipe my hands. “Hey. How was the tour?”
“Fine,” Greyston replies, crossing the room and standing next to me. “You okay?”
Mom heads back to her seat, and I nod. “Yeah. I’m good.”
The doorbell rings, but instead of acknowledging it, Greyston’s gaze is still trained only on me. I offer him another smile and place my hand on his chest before excusing myself to answer the door.
“You know what?” Mom speaks up. “Why don’t Cam and I get it? You two work on that salad.”
“You sure you’re all right?” he inquires, his eyes searching mine for some kind of indication.
Heat flares beneath my skin, and I try to laugh his concern off. “Yeah. We were talking about some things I didn’t think my dad should hear when you showed up.” He arches an eyebrow knowingly, and I shove him lightly. “You have a salad to prep,” I instruct playfully.
With a nod, Greyston turns back to the counter when he hears our parents approaching. We stand in wait, watching the entrance as our guests all come into view. His mother is a petite thing, slender and not much taller than me, with ivory skin and caramel-colored hair, while his dad is about as tall as mine, only fairer skinned and dark blond hair. In her hands, I see that Greyston’s mom is carrying what looks like a freshly-baked apple pie. This makes me smile and blush, remembering dinner at my parents’ and how Greyston and I had shared similar feelings about whipped cream. Even if we didn’t know it at the time.
“Mom,” Greyston greets, abandoning his salad again and taking the dessert from his mother and placing it on the counter before he pulls her into a firm embrace. “I trust you’ve been well?” She nods, and then her eyes find mine, Greyston’s gaze following. “Juliette, I’d like to introduce you to my mother, Jocelyn, and my father, Daniel. Mom, Dad, this is Juliette. She lives here now.”
Jocelyn’s smile widens and she moves past Greyston, taking my hands in hers. “Oh, Juliette. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I tell her. “Greyston’s told me so much about you both.”
Daniel laughs warmly, eyeing Greyston. “And yet, we’ve heard very little of you.”
“I’ve been busy with work,” Greyston reminds them. “Actually, since I’ve got you both here, now might be a good time to tell you that Juliette and I are…involved.”
I suck in a deep breath and hold it, suddenly terrified for some kind of backlash. While they both seem great, their perception of me could vastly change now that they know their son is seeing his much younger, college-attending tenant. What if they start to see me as some kind of gold-digger, using their son for a free place to live while I get my degree?
The minute Jocelyn pulls me into her arms, I relax…a little; the fact remains that I’m being hugged by a woman I’ve only just met. “Then you must be the reason our boy has been in good spirits the few times we’ve talked to him.”