Page 95 of Ordinary Secrets

“I can see us having more mornings like that.”

He answers with a slight nod and a somber “Me too.”

He’s been somber a lot today. Always staring off into space with a pained look in his eyes. Whenever I ask what he’s thinking about, I get the feeling he only tells me a version of the truth.

My truth is that I can see Trey and me having more than just mornings where we wake up together. I can see us spending more days together like we did today, barely leaving each other’sside. I can see me going on tour with him and his band after they finish their album. I can see him helping me paint the walls of my future bakery and him being there when I sell my first cake. I can see us having it all together. Only problem is... I’m not confident ifhesees all that.

Whenever I bring up the topic of our future together, he avoids it. Earlier today, I casually asked if he ever wants kids. His answer was a gloomy “Yes, but I’m not sure if that’s in the cards for me.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

Instead of answering, he changed the subject.

Besides owning a bakery, my other dream is to be a mom. I love children, and working with other people’s kids every day isn’t enough. Someday, I want my own. If Trey doesn’t ever want kids, I’m not sure if this can work.

My quiet man parks his car on the side of the gravel road where I normally do. Together, we grab our things and head into the woods. At the top of the narrow trail is that same giant oak tree that’s always provided me comfort whenever I needed it. A slight breeze blows my hair around as Trey lays out a blanket for us.

“You’re gonna do great,” he says as he unpacks his guitar from its hard case. He thought it’d be fun to teach me some simple chords. I don’t even know the difference between a simple chord and a not-simple chord. Still, I’m willing to learn because it’ll make him happy.

We’re about an hour into my first guitar lesson when I’m finally getting the hang of it. So far, Trey has taught me four chords. Learning to play guitar isn’t as easy as he makes it look. I can barely remember where to put my fingers, let alone switch between chords fast enough to play a song.

“That’s perfect!” He flashes me one of his panty-wetting smiles. “Now play a D.”

I glance at my numb fingers with the string indents in them. “But it hurts.”

“That’s normal. Once you play enough, you’ll build up some calluses, then it won’t hurt anymore. See?” He shows me his hard fingertips.

“How long will that take?”

“Depends on how often you play. Maybe a few weeks. Maybe months.”

“Months?” I grip the neck of his guitar and hand it back to him. “Thanks for the lesson, Mr. Grant. Now, how about you serenade me instead?”

Through dazed eyes, he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “Don’t say my name like that. It does things to me.”

I narrow my eyes and smirk. “Oh? What kinds of things?”

“The bad kind.”

I like the sound of that.“Tell me, Mr. Grant. What are these bad things you speak of?”

His expression darkens. “I mean it.”

“Mean what, Mr. Grant?”

His guitar gets thrown to the side with a loudclank!The next thing I know, he’s launched himself at me, pinning my back to the blanket. Our lips meet roughly. His sweet scent drapes over me like warm air on a chilly day. He fixes my wrists above my head with one hand while his other hand cups my neck to hold me in place. He doesn’t need to cement me down like this. I’m an enthusiastic captive.

Eventually, our kiss turns into a clothes-clawing, lip-biting, beautiful mess. As I slide his shirt up, I run my fingertips along every hard dip of his abs. Our mouths part for the split second it requires me to tear the fabric over his head, and then we’re back to kissing in a frenzy.

“I can never get enough of you,” he groans.

“Take more, then.”

Every part of me craves to feel his hands on my bare skin. I rip my dress off to reveal the new matching bra and lacy panties I got today. Trey attacks me with his mouth. He goes for my neck first before sliding his lips down my chest. He scratches at my bra hooks and unhooks them within seconds. The lace gets thrown behind him. I arch my head back as his mouth latches onto one of my nipples.

“Trey,” I moan toward the stars.

I grip his hair, heaving him closer as my other hand clutches the blanket beneath us. He hooks a finger through my panties and drags them down. They get tossed behind him too. They haven’t even touched the grass before his tongue is lapping me up. I grab a handful of his hair as a tingling pleasure shoots up my body and down my legs.

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