Page 93 of Really Truly Yours
Donny and I hold our poses. Gray does, too.
Gray slowly unwinds, cranks off the tap, and works a towel over his hands. “Later, alright?”
Breathable air gradually returns.
Relegated to the sidelines, I watch the son look after the father, tucking him into bed. Above the covers, I squeeze Donny’s hand and say goodnight. I receive a distracted smile.
Once outside, moths fluttering around the porch light, Gray stops on the welcome mat, exhaling mightily.
“You okay?”
His smile is flat, barely reaching to his eyes. “It’s been quite a day.”
I can only imagine the worries that tangled him up this morning are twisting up again as the day’s frenzy calms.
“I’m sorry about Donny, Sydnee. He was just distracted tonight. You know he loves you, right?”
Gray is thinking of me? I wave my hand. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
He tilts his head. The waves of hair, grown out even more since he first showed up, whisk his collar. “I know you are. You’re the only one of us who always is.”
I blink. Why, what a bizarre thing to say. I’m the biggest, ugliest, weakest mess in town.
Gray’s palm, rough with a callous or two, cups my jaw, and his fingers slide into my hair. His gaze touches mine, dipping south.
I’m utterly adrift. The autumn chill can’t touch me, not with this indescribable warmth coursing from head to toe. Crazy thoughts, and worse, impulses, rush my defenses. The fairy tale about a kiss and a frog and a prince? Might it work in reverse? A prince kissing a tattered, dull, utterly inexperienced girl?
Gray’s kiss could change me. Would change me. I feel it.
His thumb brushes along my lip. I let his touch woo me.
My eyelids sink, but his approach stalls as footsteps hurry past. When they fade, he wades closer. My chest, on the verge of busting open, pounds.
His phone rings. Loudly, like he’s a deaf old man maxing out the volume setting.
A frown takes over his face. “I better check this.” The frown becomes fear when he sees the screen. Troubled eyes dart to mine as he taps it and holds it to his ear. “What’s wrong, Avery?”
He shoves his free hand to his waist and listens.
∞∞∞
Strange, me being in the Walker home for yet a second time, and at another odd hour, no less.
Avery, with her baby belly leading the way beneath a fluffy robe, paces to the far end of the kitchen before returning to the breakfast table where I sit. Gray’s knuckles are white on the top of the chair beside me. “He didn’t say anything else?”
Fingers pressed to her lips, Avery shakes her head. Her hair is frizzed, as if she showered and let it air dry. “You were here when he left. No, he didn’t say anything more than what you heard. Only that he was going to work. That’s it.”
Gray rolls his wrist and his watch lights. “That was nearly twelve hours ago.”
She gnaws her lip. “I tried to give him some space, but I gave in around dinnertime and texted. I’ve called, too, and nothing.” Tears cover her eyes. “I’m scared, Gray.”
“He’s never done this before?”
Her wild hair trembles as she shakes her head.
Gray drags his hand over his mouth. He, too, tried texting and calling his brother on the drive from Donny’s. “Is there anyone else you can check with? Anyone from work who might know something?”
A tear falls over the rim of her lower lid. “I tried John Chavez, his old boss, the guy he said he was doing a favor for. He didn’t pick up.” Her eyes say what her words don’t articulate. If he actually went to work. “What if he…” A sob emerges instead of whatever words she intended.