Page 84 of The Check Down
The way my heart has lodged itself in my throat makes it hard to speak, but still, I croak, “Are you kidding me?”
She frowns in confusion as she pulls back the comforter on her side.
I wave a hand up and down, gesturing to her body. “You expect me to be on my best behavior knowingthisis what you’re wearing to bed?”
With a roll of her eyes, she adjusts her pillow. “This is what I sleep in unless it’s freezing cold outside. But now I have astrappingfurnace of a man to keep me warm.”
“Oh, I’ll keep you warm all right.” I toy with the thin-as-spaghetti strap holding up one cup of the skimpy nightgown. God, her tits look amazing in this thing.
Not sure it even qualifies as agown, though.
I rub my beard along the sensitive skin under her chin and down her neck, pulling giggles from her. But those giggles morph into soft whimpers and sighs as my fingers find their way under those delicate straps and into the cups.
And then? I make love to my woman in my childhood bedroom.
Sixteen-year-old Griff would be fucking awestruck.
I untangle myself from Brynn as dawn’s first rays peek through the blinds, careful not to disturb her. I did keep her up rather late, after all.
Knowing Mom will already be up and enjoying her morning coffee, I throw on joggers and a T-shirt, then head down the dark stairwell, making sure I step on a couple of the squeaky steps so Mom will hear me coming. Other than my not-so-stealthy movements and the tick of Granny’s beloved grandfather clock, the house is quiet.
As predicted, she sits in her usual spot at the table, hands wrapped around a steaming Lacey Farms mug, wearing her favorite purple terry-cloth robe. The familiarity and comfort of the scene makes me smile. When I bend to kiss the top of her head, the scent of the lavender shampoo she’s used for years is like a nostalgic hug.
“I haven’t seen you on this side of seven a.m. in a while.”
With a hum, I peek out the window over the sink, taking in the view of the farm that’s slowly waking up with the sunrise. In the distance, Dad trudges toward the barn to see to the horses, his breaths puffing like clouds in the early morning chill.
The days I spent here all those months ago, when the Tors let me go and I thought my career was over, were dark. Coming home then wasn’t the comfort it’s always been. But my family rallied around me. They didn’t let me wallow too much, but they gave me space to grieve in my own way.
Damn, am I grateful those days are behind me. If someone had told that sad, beat-down Griffin that in six months’ time, he’d be playing for his favorite team and bringing a beautiful woman home with him, he likely would have suggested that person seek professional help.
With a matching mug filled to the brim, I take the seat next to my mother, and we sit in comfortable silence while we enjoy our coffee.
Donna Lacey can’t stay quiet for long, so after only a few minutes, she squeezes my forearm. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Me, too, Mom.”
She tilts her head, gives me a long assessment. “How long have you been in love with her?”
I choke on my coffee, and my eyes water as I cough and work to breathe again. “I’m not…”
She hits me with a disappointed frown. “Griffin Michael Lacey. Don’t make me get the lying rock.”
I twirl my mug on the tabletop, watching the way the dark liquid sloshes up the sides. “I’m that obvious, huh?”
“I see the way you look at her.” Mom’s eyes shine behind her glasses. “There’s only one other thing you’ve ever looked at with that much passion and adoration, and that’s a dadgum football.”
I exhale a shaky breath, and with it, latent tension releases its hold on my muscles.
My mother, as usual, is correct. I’m crazy in love with Brynn Nelson.
Of course I’m in love with her. She’s kind and witty and smart. The perfect combination of endearing and sexy. Adorable and ravishing. I can’t get enough of her. Of riling her up. Making her breathless. I love that I can be my true self with her. Not Racy Lacey or an NFL superstar; just Griffin. She doesn’t give a fuck about my status or wealth or performance on a damn field. She makes me want to be the best version of myself, and I think I do that for her, too.
“I can see it, you know.” Mom stares into the distance, her expression serene. “The two of you, together. The perfect life you’ll make. The precious dark-haired grandbabies you’ll give me.”
“Whoa, slow your roll there, Donna.”
She lifts a shoulder, her smile sly. “When will you tell her?”