Page 117 of Every Chance After

“Because I don’t want it to be the nightcap to my fuck-up. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You deserve more. Let me make this right,” I tell her, however much my body protests against saying it. “Or take me inside. Either way, I win. Your choice.”

She chews her bottom lip, scrutinizing me with her dreamy eyes. Slowly, she eases away from me. “Better make our date good, Tripp Grady Tripp. No freak-outs allowed.”

“Aye, Captain. How early can I pick you up?”

“For dinner?”

“For whatever I plan. How early?”

Her lips curl like she enjoys the mystery. “Um, three?”

“I’ll be here at three.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Enjoy your dessert, Marina.”

“Already have… oh, wait, you mean the cake. Right,” she grins. “Oh, I will.”

I lean close for a quick kiss before saying, “Good night.”

“Good night, Grady.”

I ache, leaving her. I love her like this. Her flushed cheeks, swollen lips, dewy skin, and giddy smile make me desperate to make her happy. Starting with the perfect date.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE

Marnie

Endingour evening at the door after those knee-weakening, toe-curling kisses took nearly every drop of my fierce fortitude.

Almost as bad as waiting ALL DAY for our date!

I try distracting myself with work, errands, cats, plants, game-making,anything. But any momentary relief veers sharply into Grady territory, turning me into a lovestruck and utterly useless pile of goo lost in imagined sexcapades.Whew. It’s a wonder I didn’t retract my refusal and put hisanytime for any reasonpromise to the test.

But he’s right—weshouldsavor it. Besides, I spent years with a man who took whatever he could get from me. Last night, once again, proves Grady is refreshingly, adorably different.

Also different… Grady’s kiss. I’ve never been kissed like that—a weird realization because one would think that, by and large, all kisses are created relatively equal. Lips plus touching equal nerve endings properly engaged, and temperatures rising. But his kiss brought on a raging inferno. His delicious intensity, pulsing through him and onto me, created a blazing ecosystem between us. Hot, wet, lush, and sweetly contained, just for me. A greenhouse effect. A Grady effect.

I get hot just thinking about it.

So, it’s no surprise that when he arrives at three o’clock on the dot, I’m out of the door and into his arms before he has a chance to knock. He laughs as he reciprocates, wrapping his big arms around me, lifting me, and easing me inside. He slams the door shut behind us while I ravish him with wild kisses.

“I’ve been dying to see you,” he breathes between my lips.

“Not as much as me,” I giggle, finding my feet again. “I can’t wait to savor Romantic Grady on this date. Where are we going?”

“I forget,” he says, making me laugh. He tugs a bag of cat treats from the inside pocket of his jacket. “In lieu of flowers.”

Giggling, I shake the bag, and the cats twirl between our legs. We fill them up on treats and pets until Grady rises, reaching out to help me up.

“You look amazing,” he says, eyeing my olive green dress—a vintage score with a deep V-neck and cute little buttons down the front. I call it friendly casual.

“So do you,” I say, grabbing my purse and jacket from the kitchen table. His dark gray jeans and black jacket are offset by an olive green t-shirt that almost matches my dress. We are adorably date-ready.

Ten miles into our excursion, Grady’s phone chimes repeatedly.

He removes it from his inner pocket and mumbles a curse. “I have to make a call.”

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