Page 91 of Catch Me When I Fall
“He’s the one who saved me, two other soldiers, and twelve hostages,” I explained. “He got them for me.”
She nodded. “Good. He’s a good man, then.”
She had no idea.
I pressed my lips to her forehead, closing my eyes for moment, knowing damn well I needed to call Mags and thank the bastard one more time for saving my life. If it hadn’t been for him and his bravery, I wouldn’t be here, in this girly kitchen, holding the most beautiful woman in the world.
Yeah, I needed to fucking thank him again.
“Ask me something else,” I ordered against her skin before I stepped away, searching for the pasta.
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-six.”
“Do you have a last name?” she continued.
I looked at her. “Grayson is my last name, baby.”
She blinked. “What’s your first?”
“Joseph.”
“And I take it you don’t like to be called that?” she guessed.
My lips twitched. “No, I don’t.”
“Why?”
“I was named after one of my ancestors. Plus, I just don’t like that name.”
“So you’re okay with me calling you Grayson?”
I swallowed, forcing my eyes to stay on her face and not trail down her curves. “Yeah,” I said, my voice deeper than I expected it to be. “I’m fucking okay with it.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, clearing her throat. “What about your family?”
I located a box of pasta and dumped it into the now-boiling water. “What about them?”
“Are you…Are they…Do you talk to them?” she asked, fumbling with the words.
“Mom, yes. My father died serving our country shortly after I was born.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a big deal, Carrie. I never knew him,” I assured her.
“Where is she? Your mom?”
“She has a small home just outside of Charlotte,” I told her, moving around her kitchen from cabinet to cabinet.
Carrie hummed. “Is that where you’re from?”
“No, I was born in the Midwest,” I said, meeting her eyes. “Indiana. Mom moved us to Charlotte after my father’s death. She raised me on her own.”
“She must be one hell of a woman, raising a man like you.”
I ticked my head to the side. “A man like me?” I parroted.
