Give Me Grace

  “Need something?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “That’s a big-ass box of condoms, Casey.” She took the box out, peering inside. “Half empty. You’re a busy boy, aren’t you?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “They’re Coby’s.”

  Grace laughed. “I don’t care about who came before me, Casey.” Putting the box back, she shut the cabinet door and faced me.

  “Really?” I took a step towards her. “Because I’m crazy jealous of every man who ever came before me.” With a quick movement, I flicked the edge of the towel. It dropped to the floor and my mouth went dry as I looked at her. “Of every man who got to see this.” I ran my palm down the smooth skin of her belly and over her hip. “And feel this.” She closed her eyes at my touch. “Every inch of your body is mine now, Slim. No one else gets to touch you.”

  “Yours,” Grace moaned when my hand slipped between her legs, my fingers gliding over hot, slick skin before finding their way inside her body. She rested her forehead against my shoulder, her breath fanning out across my skin in ragged pants. “Until I leave.”

  That’s what you think, but I’m never going to let you leave.

  “Casey?” she breathed. I looked up, unable to hide the possessive gleam I knew was clear in my eyes. “You promised.”

  My jaw clenched at the reminder and I nodded stiffly. Withdrawing my hand regretfully, I took a step back. “In the shower, Grace. I need to go have a word with Coby.”

  She grabbed my arm when I turned to leave.

  “He won’t say anything to Henry, will he? I mean, it’s one thing for him to know we’re seeing each other, but hearing it from someone else would be so much worse.”

  “He won’t,” I assured her.

  Leaving Grace to her shower, I headed to my room and plucked out a pair of sweatpants from the dresser. I tugged them on, knowing they were loose enough to cover the erection that wouldn’t go down. Picking out my old football jersey with “Daniels” and the number 85 on the back, I took it into the bathroom for Grace to put on when she was finished. Leaving it on the vanity along with a clean towel, I left to face Coby. He was still standing in the kitchen, arms folded while he waited.

  “What the fuck, Casey,” he growled the second I appeared. “Does Henry know? What am I saying,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Of course he doesn’t know or you’d be dead right now.”

  I leaned my hip against the kitchen bench, waiting for Coby to get a hold of himself.

  “Christ.” He started pacing. “When I found out about Jared and Evie, it was all I could do not to weigh his body down with cement bricks and drop him out in the middle of the ocean.”

  I shook my head, remembering that particular day clearly. Coby had gone so far as to hire a deep-sea fishing charter for the day. We’d all gone out under the guise of Coby telling us we were guaranteed to catch a marlin—the holy grail of offshore sport fishing.

  With the captain occupied at the wheel and his two-man crew getting equipment from below, Coby had whipped out a gun and ordered Jared to his knees. Everyone froze in place, thinking he’d gone mad. Being the closest, I’d tackled Coby to the floor of the boat. In my effort to control his sudden psychotic break, I cracked my head on the side of the built-in metal fish box, splitting open the skin. Blood oozed down my face in a fountain, spilling out over the deck.

  When Mitch got close enough to wrestle the gun away from Coby, he slipped in the blood and would’ve gone overboard if Jared hadn’t grabbed his legs and pulled him back in. With Jared now in arms’ reach, Coby slammed the butt of the gun in his face. Jared stumbled back, letting go of his hold on Mitch. Coby used the opportunity to deliver a hard kick to Jared’s groin, along with the verbal threat that he would die a slow, torturous death if he went near Evie again.

  When the crew returned to the deck, they found it covered in blood, Mitch pointing Coby’s gun at Coby, me getting woozily to my feet, Jared finally on his knees, ready to puke as he cupped his groin, and Travis leaning against the side of the boat, casually drinking a beer. We were kicked off the boat and the word was spread. There were few fishing charters that would take us out now, thanks to Coby.

  Coby paused his pacing to glare at me. “What are your intentions?”

  “What are my…” I looked at him, incredulous. “Why? Are you planning another ‘fishing charter?’” I air-quoted.

  “No, but if Henry comes to you and tells you he’s booked one, don’t go,” Coby said in all seriousness as he resumed pacing. “I still can’t believe those assholes kicked us off their boat,” he added, obviously still pissed and holding a grudge over the whole fiasco. “It’s not like the gun was loaded or anything.”

  “You know I heard of a charter up the coast that might take us on,” I told him as I yawned and stretched, feeling the physical and emotional drain of the day catching up to me.

  Coby’s eyes lit up. Despite his original intention being only to scare the living shit out of Jared, he was still hell-bent on catching that marlin he was promised.

  “Casey?”

  We both turned. Grace stood in the entryway to the kitchen. She looked unbelievably sexy with her skin flushed and damp from her shower. She was wearing the jersey I’d left out for her, but instead of it reaching her knees like I thought, it barely hit mid-thigh because her legs were so damn long. Glancing sideways, I saw Coby was busy noticing that particular fact.

  Irritated, I pointed towards my room. “My bedroom’s that way, Slim. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Her eyes narrowed at my rude dismissal.

  “Can I get you a drink, Grace?” Coby asked.

  She gifted him with a smile and I heard his sudden intake of air. I knew the effect it had on him because it did the same to me.

  “No,” I told him sharply. “She doesn’t want one.”

  “I think Grace can speak for herself,” he replied, returning Grace’s smile with one of his own.

  “A water would be nice, thanks.”

  Before Coby could react, I had the fridge door open and a bottle of water in my hand. I held it out to her. She took it, and I knew she must have seen the exhaustion on my face because her eyes softened.

  “Thanks, Casey.” Stepping close, she cupped my cheek and brushed her lips against mine. “Don’t be long,” she whispered and disappeared inside my bedroom.

  Suddenly I had no idea why I was in the kitchen with Coby. I started to follow when a hand slammed into my chest, halting me. I met Coby’s eyes and saw the question in them, knowing instantly what he was asking.

  “I’m going to tell him,” I said, referring to Henry.

  “Good.” He gave me a single nod and removed his hand. “She’s wearing your jersey.”

  I raised a brow, wondering why the conversation had suddenly spiralled into talk of fashion. Had we somehow grown vaginas when I wasn’t looking?

  “You don’t let anyone wear your jersey,” he expanded. “Ever.”

  I shrugged the comment off and turned my gaze towards the now closed bedroom door, envisioning Grace spread out on the bed waiting for me. “She looks good in it.”

  “I noticed.”

  My eyes narrowed on my roommate. “Stop noticing.”

  Coby grinned. “You’re being an irrational twat. You know that, right?”

  “Yes,” I agreed, knowing he was right and finding it hard to give a shit. I opened the fridge door. “What’s your point?”

  He shrugged and in an abrupt change of subject, said, “Frank filled Jared and me in on what happened today.”

  Janie Berg’s face swam in my head when I reached for another bottle of water. I slammed the fridge door shut, the contents rattling noisily behind me as I turned and cracked the lid on the bottle.

  I had no response for Coby—no words to justify the number of ways in which I’d failed that sweet little girl.

  Coby didn’t say anything more. He didn’t need to. It was spelled out in his eyes
and the weight of his voice. He took hold of my shoulder and squeezed, then walked silently back to his room.

  After a quick shower, I walked naked to my room and shut the door behind me. Grace was spread out in the middle of my bed liked I’d imagined, but she wasn’t waiting for me. Her body was tangled in the sheets and her head was tipped back on the pillow. A smile spread slowly across my face as I looked down at her. She was sound asleep and snoring like a sailor.

  I switched off the lamp on the bedside table and climbed in beside her.

  I should leave her alone, I told myself as I unravelled her body from the linen and situated myself between her thighs. She mumbled something in her sleep and slapped at my hands when my fingers trailed lightly up her thighs. Undeterred, I didn’t stop until my jersey bunched around her hips, revealing her lack of underwear. Her mutterings turned into soft sighs of pleasure when my hand slipped between her legs and began teasing her.

  Pressing my weight gently onto her body, I licked a path up her neck before sucking on the pulse point underneath her jawline.

  “You make me ache for you, Grace,” I muttered softly against her skin. “Just you and no one else. How do you do that?”

  She swatted at me when my tongue tickled her ear, mumbling a very unladylike curse. I laughed silently and set about seeing how close I could bring her to the edge without waking her up.

  I soon discovered Grace was a heavy sleeper. Her eyelids barely cracked open when I slid my cock inside her, yet her legs wrapped instinctively around me, taking me deeper. I pressed my forehead against hers and she tilted her head finding my lips in a long, lazy kiss that didn’t end until I felt her orgasm. Thrusting harder and faster, I let go and came, burying my head in the crook of Grace’s neck until my heart rate slowed down and I was breathing easier.

  “Grace?” I whispered.

  Nothing.

  “Grace?”

  My eyes widened with amazement. She was fast asleep again, leaving me to wonder if she ever actual woke. I chuckled as I shifted my weight off her body, envying her ability to switch off so quickly. Rolling over on my back, I saw my phone light up, reminding me I had voicemail from the call I’d rejected earlier. Getting out of bed, I picked it up and left the room, shutting the door silently behind me.

  Swiping the screen, I opened the voice message and put the phone to my ear.

  “Casey? It’s Morgan,” I heard as I walked into the living room. “I can’t help but notice you’re not here. I hope everything is okay. I was waiting to tell you when you got here, but well … it’s about that information we talked about. It turns out the coroner on the case is an old friend of my Uncle’s.” Her words sent my pulse rate skyrocketing. “I have the report, Casey. The coroner’s report.” My knees buckled beneath me and I sank onto the couch. “We should …”

  The rest of her message drowned out over the blood roaring like thunder in my ears. She had the report. The one I’d been trying to get my hands on for ten damn years. My hands shook as I pressed the button to end the voice message.

  Sitting back on the couch, I swiped a hand over my face, wondering what the hell I was going to do now.

  I woke late in the duplex the next morning after Casey deposited me home at four a.m. The first thing I did was check my appearance in the mirror on the back of the wardrobe door. It was just as I suspected—last night with Casey was written all over my face. Dark smudges had taken up residence beneath my eyes, there was stubble rash on my neck, my hair looked like rats had made a nest in it, and there was a ridiculous grin on my face.

  After locating the concealer in my makeup case, I leaned close to the mirror and dabbed it on my face, doing my best to hide the evidence. Deciding to deal with my hair later, I tied it in a knot on the top of my head and left my room.

  In an effort to remain nonchalant, I kept my expression cool and my head high as I jogged casually down the stairs.

  “Henry’s not here.”

  Mac’s words caught me by surprise and I skidded on the bottom step. When I couldn’t regain my balance, my legs gave out beneath me and I landed in a heap on the floor, gasping for breath. So much for being cool.

  “Oh my God, are you okay?” Evie cried out, rushing over. She grabbed at my arms, trying to lift me.

  I swatted her hands away, embarrassed to see Mac, Frog, Cooper, and Jake witness my undignified entrance from their seats at the dining table. A flush climbed my cheeks hearing their laughter. Gaining my feet awkwardly, I turned the attention on Evie.

  “You shouldn’t be trying to lift me or you’ll bring on labour,” I reprimanded, knowing full well that was an impossibility. She was only four months along after all.

  “You too?” She threw her hands up in disappointment and stomped back to her seat. Picking up her fork, she pointed it at us in a sweeping gesture as she sat down. “You’re all driving me daft. I can’t do anything—even sleep! I woke in the middle of the night to find Jared staring right at me. It was creepy. I almost had a heart attack.”

  Mac narrowed calculating eyes on Evie. “We need to start thinking about scaling back Jamieson’s commitments. We should cancel that tour.”

  “No!” she shouted, standing back up. “I’m perfectly fine. By God, I’ll have this baby on stage if I have to.”

  “You’re not having the baby on stage,” Jake ordered. Standing up from the table, he pushed Evie back down until he had her restrained in her seat. “I won’t allow it.”

  Evie huffed and tossed her fork on the table. “I’m not having the baby on stage.”

  Cooper looked up from his plate. “But you just said—”

  “I think you’re right,” Frog said to Mac. He glanced meaningfully at Evie’s full plate of food. “She’s not even eating.”

  “Because no one is giving me a chance to eat!” she shouted, her eyes getting teary. I limped unobtrusively towards the kitchen, feeling guilty for having thrown her under the bus. In my defence I had no idea it would escalate so quickly.

  Jake glared at Mac. “Now you’ve made her cry.”

  “I’ve made her …” Mac looked at Jake, incredulous. “You can’t be serious. You ate all the Doritos during band practice yesterday. Evie fell apart when she found out. I had to hug her while she sobbed for a full ten minutes!”

  “Someone call the press,” he barked with a voice full of sarcasm. “Mac had to be nice.”

  Mac’s eye started twitching.

  “I did not fall apart!” Evie shouted as I got an orange from the fridge. I put it on the chopping board and got a paring knife from the drawer. As I started peeling the piece of fruit, I realised that everyone was eerily quiet all of a sudden. I glanced up and froze. They were all staring at me. Evie’s face was smug.

  “Uh … what?”

  “I said,” Evie enunciated in a loud voice, “how long have you and Casey had a thing for?”

  I turned an accusing glare on Mac. “You told them we had a thing?”

  “Ah ha!” Evie squealed at the same time Mac said dryly, “No, but you just did.”

  “Sonofabitch!” Cooper shouted. “They don’t even give you a fighting chance.” He stood up, bringing his half-empty plate to the kitchen. “I quit, Mac,” he said to her on his way past. “I work for Jamieson and Valentine Consulting now. If you have an issue, you can take it up with them.” He dumped his plate beside the sink before looking at me with a wounded expression. “Casey? Really? What does he have that I don’t?”

  “A big gun?” Evie offered before I could speak.

  Mac raised her brows at Evie with apparent interest. “Is that so?”

  She shrugged and shook her head. “I was making an assumption. I haven’t seen it.” Both of them turned their gaze my way.

  “Why would I have seen his … Oh.” I shut my mouth, realising that Mac and Evie were talking in euphemisms. “Casey is very … impressive,” I admitted, thinking back to last night and the way he had me spread out over the hood of his car. The man had me in such a haze of
lust the Pope could’ve passed by with a wave from his bulletproof glass contraption and I wouldn’t have noticed.

  I looked up from the massacre I’d made of my orange. Mac and Evie were nodding at me as though my answer was just as they’d suspected.

  “Of course he is,” Cooper muttered under his breath from beside me. He stole a piece of orange from the chopping board and popped it in his mouth.

  “But it’s not just that,” I added. “It’s the way that he …”

  “Looks at you?” Evie finished for me when I trailed off.

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  It was how I imagined it felt getting too close to the sun. I wasn’t used to being looked at that way; I was used to being looked at like a tool of trade. My body was hired to sell products or as an accessory for publicised events. It wasn’t exactly a hardship. I got to travel extensively and was paid ridiculous amounts of money for it, but after years of having my appearance scrutinised and criticised for all manner of imperfections I’d become detached.

  “How did you know?” I asked Evie.

  Cooper leaned over me, grabbing for another piece of orange. Using the knife, I scraped the fruit his way. He popped more in his already full mouth and winked at me in thanks.

  Evie picked up her abandoned fork off the table and began stabbing at her food. “It’s the same way Jared looks at me,” she said, and shoved an enormous pile of bacon in her mouth.

  I shook my head at the comparison. The love in Jared’s eyes when he looked at Evie was bright enough to hurt your eyes. Casey looked at me like a man in lust, not love, and it would be foolish to confuse the two.

  “You’re his wife,” I reminded her, as if she’d somehow forgotten that important fact. “He’s supposed to look at you that way.”

  Cooper plucked another piece of orange from the board. “Does Henry know?” he asked as he chewed.

  “Of course he doesn’t know,” Mac told him as Frog stood from the table and brought his own plate to the kitchen. “Otherwise, Casey would be dead, wouldn’t he?”