Page 79 of Holding Grace

The day had started fine. Michael had the day off and we’d had breakfast together like we did most days. It was when we were cleaning up our dishes afterwards that Michael surprised me with the news that he was leaving to go work out with Ace and Rycker. After that they were all going to Levi’s to help him with a project at his house and Michael wouldn’t be home until around dinner time.

I mean, it was fine for him to have his own plans and we didn’t need to be attached at the hip, obviously. It was just that he hadn’t left me on my own for the whole day since I’d moved in with him – not on his off days. He’d run errands, of course, or gone to work out or whatever, but he hadn’t made plans to be gone the whole day.

It wasn’t a big deal – not at all – it just felt like something had shifted between us, and not in a good way.

I thought about it the whole day, what I could do to make things better.

I cared about Michael – a lot. He was my own personal guardian angel who’d shown up exactly when I needed him most and stuck with me like a burr, even when I’d tried to shake him off.

I laughed at my messy mixed metaphor. I could tell him what I was thinking, feeling, but actions spoke louder than words.

And there was no day better than today.

Anticipation fizzed through me as I grabbed my phone to text Michael.

Me: Sorry to bug you. I was wondering if you think you’ll be home for dinner. If not, that’s fine. I just wanted to check.

Not letting myself overthink it, I tapped to send it.

Michael’s reply popped up a minute later.

Michael: You could never bug me, Gracie. Yes, I plan to be home for dinner. Want me to bring something home?

My heart bumped at his nickname for me like it always did.

Me: No, I feel like cooking. Thanks, though.

Michael: Is 7 okay?

Me: Perfect.

Michael: You can put me to work when I get there.

I had no intention of doing that, but I didn’t argue. I sent a thumbs up emoji and let him get back to his day with the guys.

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MICHAEL WALKED IN JUST as I pulled the baked spaghetti from the oven.

“It smells great in here.”

My cheeks flushed and I hoped he assumed it was from the heat of the oven. Part of it was, but the other part?

The other reason for the color in my cheeks were the images that had cycled through my brain all day, ever since I’d decided that I wanted to show Michael my appreciation tonight in more ways than just cooking dinner for him.

Now that I’d let the thoughts in, they wouldn’t leave me alone.

Michael went to get changed while I set the spaghetti and seasoned green beans I’d made to go with it on the table.

I was carrying a glass of water for each of us to the table when he reappeared wearing a concert t-shirt with a band I didn’t recognize and a pair of oh-so-distracting faded jeans that fit him like a glove.

“You didn’t leave anything for me to do,” Michael complained good-naturedly as he took in the food and the fully set table.

“Nope. Everything’s ready.” I took my seat and Michael followed suit. “All you have to do is enjoy.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

My smile at Michael’s comment fell as he took his first bite of spaghetti and shook his head.