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Gray's Girl Page 11
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“I dunno. Beautiful and disheveled. I could get used to it.”
Surprise and pleasure colored her features. “Did you just call me beautiful?”
“Yeah. Wanna make something of it?” he threw back as he crowded her against the pillows to steal another quick kiss. Just a quick brush of the lips. For now. Anything else would have to wait until he got her home.
When he sat back, she shook her head, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re stubborn?”
“Sweetheart, you have no idea—”
He was cut off midsentence as the curtain rattled back on its pole and a doctor entered the cubicle.
“Good morning, Ms. Cross. I’m Dr. Fowler.” A small man, he blinked at them owlishly through large glasses. His slight accent marked him as a nonlocal, yet it wasn’t that but rather the large semicircular scar across his top lip that caught Gray’s attention. Just under his nose, it looked for all the world like he’d been punted in the face with the bottom of a line prop.
“I’ll leave you to it, love,” he said quietly, and leaned forward to kiss her quickly. She probably didn’t want him in on medical stuff. It was private, personal, and one night of fantastic sex didn’t mean he had a right to be here, much as he might want to be.
“No, stay. Please?”
She wrapped her hand around his, stopping him in his tracks. The plea in her eyes did it for him, warmth spreading through his body. She wanted him around and that was good enough for him.
Ten minutes later, the doctor left them alone in the cubicle after having assured them that Frankie had taken no permanent damage from breathing in the smoke. Gray had played up to his self-appointed role, grilling the doctor and making sure he had the answers he wanted. He watched the small doctor go and then turned to Frankie. Taking a breath, he centered himself. The easy part was over.
“Remember how we talked about me being stubborn?”
Her brow creased, a wary look entering her eyes. “Yeah?”
“This is going to be one of those times…” He paused for a second, enfolding both her hands in his and feeling a little like the times before he set foot on the pitch knowing there was a high likelihood he was getting a battering. “I want you to move in with me.”
Her jaw dropped, full pink lips parted as she looked at him in surprise. Shaking her head, she closed her mouth with a click. “You want to run that by me again?”
“Move in. Shack up. Live in sin. Any and all of the above?”
He hid his nerves behind a joke, hoping like hell she didn’t realize his knees were knocking together. Shit, he’d never even thought about living with a woman before. Hell, he didn’t make it past the third date half the time…yet here he was, all but proposing to her the morning after their first night together. He had to be touched in the head.
“Why?” Her gaze was sharp. Way too perceptive for his liking, especially when he wasn’t sure of the whys yet himself. He shrugged a shoulder, trying for nonchalant and checking with a quick glance to see if she was buying it. Maybe.
“Even if there wasn’t a lot of damage to your place, it won’t be habitable for a while. Not if you said the floor was ablaze. Even if it didn’t get into your apartment…smoke gets everywhere. Believe me, I know. After that gas explosion in the same block as us when I was a kid, it took us months to get rid of the smell.”
“I can stay with Damon for a while. You don’t need to put yourself out. I mean, we just…we only…” She trailed off, dropping her gaze to the bedcovers and plucking at them with delicate fingers. A sign of insecurity and nerves if ever he saw them.
Sliding a finger her under jaw, he made her look up and meet his eyes. “We just…only what, Frankie? Only got together last night?”
A small nod was her only reply, but her eyes reflected the turmoil of emotion within. He moved closer and brushed the tip of his nose over hers.
“It doesn’t matter.” His admission was soft, his low voice meant for her and her alone. “All I know is that I can’t walk out of here without you. That I want to take you home, and keep you there, safe in my arms so nothing can hurt you again. Please, sweetheart, let me look after you…at least until your place is sorted?”
* * *
God, he was good.
As soon as she’d said yes to moving in with him for a while, Gray had swung into action. Most people tended to look at his size and build, the long hair, and write him off as a lout, even if they’d never dare say anything to his face. But he was anything but. Frankie watched in amazement as he set about securing her discharge, with the correct paperwork and medication, somehow managing to charm and organize overworked, distracted hospital staff into getting what he needed as soon as possible and marshaling her brother at the same time.
He’d done it all without raising his voice or using his size to impose. Reading body language was an essential part of her job, so she was used to the subtle little nonverbal clues people gave off. She could also tell when someone was using and modifying their own body language to aid their cause. All through his conversations with the nurses, Gray kept his voice soft and his stance nonthreatening, feet apart and shoulders dropped a little so he didn’t appear quite as big as he was.
And it had worked. Less than an hour later the three of them were out of the hospital and the taxi was pulling to a stop outside his apartment building.
“We’re here, sweetheart. Here, let me.”
Before she could open the door and let herself out, he was out and around the back of the car. He opened the door and extended his hand. Waiting for her to put hers in it. A small smile curved her lips as she slid her fingers into his. He was so protective, perhaps more than he realized. “Are you sure you don’t want to carry me? I mean, I could sli—” She squeaked, her words cut off as he bent down to scoop her up in his arms. “Leighton! What are you doing?”
“Carrying you. Like you said, you could fall. I’m supposed to be looking after you, so I can’t take the risk, now can I?”
He grinned, unrepentant, as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. She wasn’t worried about him dropping her, not really, but she wasn’t a lightweight, and she didn’t have any experience of literally being swept off her feet.
“Put me down, you great idiot. You’ll put your back out.”
He just tightened his hold in answer, big arms cradling her securely against his broad chest. The solid thud of his heart was reassuring against the side of her rib cage and his lopsided grin hit her deep down.
“Carrying a little thing like you? Don’t be daft.”
Her cheeks flamed a bit as Damon planted her bag onto her lap. “Don’t bother arguing with him, Frankie. Once he gets that look, you’re screwed.” He turned his attention to the big man carrying her. “Look after her, or we’ll have a replay of earlier. She needs sleep, understand? No fooling about.”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Replay? What replay?”
Gray shook his head as Damon slid smoothly back into the taxi, ignoring her completely as he always did when he didn’t want to answer something. She looked back at Gray.
“What did he mean, replay?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Let’s get you inside and settled down.”
No matter what she tried, he refused to answer her questions. Instead he strode up to the entrance of the imposing building in front of them, juggling her in his arms as easily as though she weighed nothing. She fell silent, letting him concentrate in case he forgot and dropped her.
Yeah right, you just like the big, strong man dragging you off to his cave, the little voice in the back of her mind sneered. Since it was obviously talking total crap, she ignored it and tried to nestle closer against Gray’s big chest.
“Don’t you dare drop me,” she warned as he headed for the elevator, then fell silent at the amused but exasperated look he shot her.
“Stop talking and just enjoy being looked after, okay? Befor
e I decide to do something to shut that pretty mouth that will get me in a shitload of trouble.”
Heat made a lazy dance floor of her body, hampered in its waltz by the tiredness that pulled at her muscles and eyelids. The yawn ambushed her. Unable to stop it, she hid her face against his neck.
“See.” He chuckled as the elevator started its ascent. “You’re beat. You need a nice soak to relax you, and bed.”
She lay her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “Why? You saying I stink?”
He shook his head, the movement felt rather than seen. “Frankie. Shut up.”
The door opened in front of them, saving her from answering. He was in the penthouse. She’d expected it, but still her heart swelled at the outward sign of how far he’d come. When Damon had first brought him home from school, they’d known he was from a rough neighborhood, but he was quiet and polite, quickly making theirs a home away from home.
Her father had insisted on driving him home, worried about the neighborhoods he had to walk through in the dark until he’d told them where he lived. Standford Hill was not just in a rough neighborhood, it was the roughest estate in the city. People who weren’t from around there avoided the area like the plague and even coppers patrolled in groups of four and had a riot van on standby.
Gray was quiet, reserved at times but he was no pushover. He was a scrapper, a survivor. He’d dragged himself up from his humble beginnings, making no excuses about coming from a single-parent family or the area he lived in. Instead, he’d dug in, learned what he was good at, and gone out to chase his dream. And he’d done it, as lethal on the pitch as he had been on the streets as a kid.
“Home, sweet home,” he muttered as he pushed open the door, then stopped to claim her mouth with the softest kiss imaginable. His lips teased and tasted, parting hers gently to push inside in a slow, wet slide of pure pleasure. She moaned in the back of her throat and threaded her hand through his hair to hold him still.
Home, sweet home.
* * *
Three weeks. It had been just three short weeks since she’d moved into Gray’s place, but it felt like a lifetime. An idyllic lifetime. Fingers laced through his, she released a small sigh of happiness. The midday sun beat down, reflecting off the white stone walls of the building behind them.
A stately home recently opened to the public; the gardens were beautiful and the last place she’d expected Gray to suggest when he said he wanted to take her out. She’d expected dinner and a movie. Instead he’d driven her here and produced a hamper from the back of his low-slung sports car, the one typically male extravagance he had.
A gentle breeze washed over the sloping lawns in front of them, stirring the long skirts of her sundress around her ankles. With spring sliding into summer, the weather was heating up so she’d dressed appropriately and, if she was honest with herself, more femininely than she had in the last couple of years.
In fact, the last three weeks had changed her outlook considerably. From being worried how she and Gray would get along, given that their relationship was so new, she’d gone to feeling like they’d always lived together. Her injuries from the fire, the small bumps and scrapes, and the irritating cough were all gone now. As an added bonus, the one time Robby had rung her cell she’d been in the kitchen and Gray had answered instead. Robby had hung up and hadn’t bothered her since. All in all, a win-win situation.
They’d quickly settled into a routine. Gray would head out to training early, before she was awake most mornings, and wouldn’t be back until after she’d left for work. After a day in the city, she’d come home to him and they’d eat, then spend the evening watching TV cuddled up on the sofa, or talking.
She’d discovered him to be highly intelligent and driven, facets his teenage shyness had hidden from her before. He had the body of a Greek god, yes, but behind that was a keen awareness that his playing career wouldn’t last long and that he needed to set in motion contingency plans. Their interests differed but, unlike Robby, he hadn’t instantly dismissed her point of view because he didn’t agree with it, and their debates often ended in heated kisses that led quickly to the bedroom.
They were perfect for each other. The sort of perfect she’d thought only existed within the pages of the romance novels she was addicted to…the X-rated ones she kept on her tablet PC, not because she was bothered what people thought about what she was reading, but simply because she could keep more on there.
Gray had thought it was cute, teasing her about reading his grandma’s bodice ripper romances. His teasing had lasted right up to the point he’d stolen the tablet. Silence had fallen as he’d started to read. He hadn’t said a word when he handed it back, but the dark look in his eyes had made her shiver. Later that night he’d surprised her with a role-play of that scene in her book. Neither of them had been able to stop giggling, but the fact he’d tried endeared him to her even more.
“How’s this look here?”
They stopped under one of the massive oaks at the bottom of the lawns, the wide branches providing a welcome respite from the sun.
“Perfect. Pass that blanket.”
As she spread the picnic blanket out, a thud behind her made her twist to the side. A ball tumbled end over end, the shape one she was becoming increasingly familiar with. She’d lost count of the number of rugby balls she’d found in the bottom of Gray’s closet. Seemed he liked to collect them from important matches.
Three small figures raced over the grass toward them. “Hey, mister. Can we have our ball back?”
He shot her a look as the sound of youthful voices reached them, indecision on his face as he passed the ball from hand to hand absently. That he wanted to go was obvious, but the fact he’d hung back, not wanting to abandon her, made her heart swell.
“Go on then,” she said with a nod as she shook the blanket out to settle it gently on the ground. “You go play.”
“Thank you.” He moved in, kissing her quickly before striding out of the shade as though he was worried she’d change her mind.
“Bloody ’ell, it’s Big L!”
The shouts of delight reached her ears as she settled down on the blanket, slowly unpacking the food Gray had brought as she watched him with the trio.
He was good with kids, patient and soft-spoken as he set them up passing the ball back and forth. Quick exercises and instruction designed to increase their confidence as three little faces looked up at him in total adoration. She knew instinctively that, unlike a lot of men his age, he’d do nothing to rock that confidence or belittle them, not because he wanted to be idolized but because he genuinely cared.
Pulling the plates from the basket, she held them on her lap for a moment. The breeze lifted the edges of her skirt, playing over her bare feet as the deep sound of Gray’s laughter reached her ears. Her breathing caught as her heart expanded, warmth rushing through her anew.
Carefully she locked the feeling away. It would be so easy to fall for him properly. Truly, madly, deeply type stuff, but she had to face facts. He was a lot younger than she was, and there would come a point where they’d want different things. Marriage, kids…she couldn’t see those on the agenda of a pro rugby player, not any time soon. Perhaps if he was older, nearing the end of his playing career, she could hope. But he wasn’t, so to protect herself, she had to shield her heart, treat this thing they had as a nice little aside from reality and take good memories from it when it ended. Because if she didn’t, if she fell for him properly, then it would break her heart when he left her.
“Bless them, they’re pretty good. Show promise,” Gray said as he flopped down onto the blanket, stretching his large frame out next to her. He was so tall that even half reclining, his eyes were at the same level as hers. The heat of his body beat at her bare arms as he reached over and snagged a sandwich from the plates she’d uncovered. His hair was loose, brushing his shoulders the way she liked it, and she couldn’t help looking. Drinking in every detail of his appearance and locking it a
way to fortify her for the years ahead.
“What? Do I have something on my nose?” He reached up to swipe at it, going cross-eyed as he tried to see what she was looking at.
“No.” She chuckled and leaned forwards to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “Just don’t change. Okay?”
“Okay…sure.”
The moment stretched between them, a moment of connection she felt right down to the depths of her soul. His eyes were such an unusual shade, balanced so perfectly between blue and gray that she couldn’t say for sure which they were.
He opened his mouth, about to say something, when a fat drop of rain splashed down across his nose.
“What the—Oh, crap.”
They both looked upward, then surged into movement as the heavens opened above them. Plates were covered and shoved back into the basket with more haste than neatness as fat drops rained down, soaking through their clothes. She bundled the blanket up in her arms as Gray grabbed the hamper and reached for her hand. Laughing, they raced up the lawn, skirted around the side of the building, and ran for the car.
Chapter Ten
“I can’t believe that just happened!” Frankie exclaimed as they stumbled through the front door like a whirlwind. Both wet through from the sudden downpour, the drive back to the apartment had been mercifully short. She shivered as the door closed behind her and the warmer air inside wrapped around her like a silken caress.
“Yeah, the heavens did open a bit there, didn’t they?”
Gray carried the basket through to the kitchen, the fine lawn of his shirt plastered to his back and the long strands of his hair wet against his neck. He didn’t appear to notice, instead placing the basket on the counter and turning to look at her. His eyes darkened as his gaze swept over her, the wet dress clinging to every curve. The look pulled heat through her, a lazy explosion that warmed her from her core outward. How he could do that to her with just a glance never failed to amaze her. And make her hot.