Page 62 of The Bloodfeather Promise
Chapter Eighteen
Emerson
When I wake early the next morning, I seriously consider never moving.
I’m sore, deliciously so, and my hair is a tangled mess of knots, but I’ve never been so happy. Greyson holds me against his body, cocooning me. He’s sleeping like he’s never slept a wink before in his life. Deep, peaceful sleep that shows in the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against my back. I wonder how much he actually does sleep when he’s here alone. Or if he did at all whenever Holly was here.
I push thoughts of other women sleeping in this same bed out of my head. I won’t dwell on what happened before me. Or after me. Whichever applies.
Geoffrey will arrive soon to set up breakfast. At least, that’s what Greyson mentioned last night. I’m not sure how I feel about someone knowing I spent the night here. Do I care? I shouldn’t. It’s my life. Greyson and I have been together for two months. Long enough that it shouldn’t be a surprise I stayed over. Still, I’d rather head off any gossip, if possible. I’ll just catch the chef when he gets here, explain the situation, and ask him not to say anything.
I ease away from Greyson, leaving him sleeping. After finding my borrowed shirt, I creep from his room, shutting the door softly behind me, and make my way down to the guest bedroom.
After a quick shower, I redress in my own clothes and make up the bed I slept in for two hours. I don’t have time to blow dry my hair, so I pull it back into a braid once more before folding the t-shirt and pajama bottoms up neatly and setting them in a chair.
Down in the kitchen, I peek in the fridge and find a jug of orange juice. As I’m pouring myself a glass, the gate buzzer lights up, signaling someone is coming up the drive.
It’s Geoffrey and one of the waiters from the restaurant. He’s surprised to see me open the door but quickly hides it.
“I didn’t think you’d still be here,” he says with a grin, hitching the bags with all his supplies higher up on his shoulders.
“Too much wine to safely drive home. Greyson was sweet enough to let me sleep in one of the guest rooms.”
“Really?” Geoffrey’s eyebrows raise sky high, his disbelief comically tangible. “That was nice of him, but don’t worry. My lips are sealed, you know? I’ll get breakfast started and be out of here in heartbeat.”
His assistant goes out to the terrace, gathering up the items from our dinner last night while Geoffrey fires up the industrial-grade gas stove in the kitchen. The man is a whirlwind of activity, and before I know it, breakfast is ready to be served. There’s the French Toast I wanted, scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese and fresh vegetables folded in. Bacon, sausage, croissants, and buttermilk biscuits with fresh Tupelo honey. It’s a feast, far too much food for two people.
In less than forty minutes, he’s done with everything. Even to the point of setting the breakfast bar up with china and silverware.
“All done,” he claims with a clap of his hands as if he’s a magician and this was a magic trick pulled out of his back pocket. “If you will, tell Mr. Finch I’ll come back this afternoon and pick everything up. Just place everything in that cart there, like you did last night.” He gives me a wink.
“Thank you, Geoffrey. It all looks so delicious.” I sip the French press coffee brewed upon his arrival and grin. “And thanks for keeping my secret.”
Exiting the front door, he waves a hand at me, indicating it’s no problem. “Be back around three for all of it.”
I shut the door behind him and wander back into the kitchen, double checking the warmers that are set up buffet style. I cannot wait to dive in, as I am suddenly starving. Should I go ahead and wake Greyson up, or give him a few more moments of sleep?
Before deciding, I go to the doors leading onto the terrace and look outside. It’s going to be a beautiful day. Sunny and hot. There’s not a cloud in the sky at the moment. It’s such a beautiful view, I don’t hear Greyson’s approach until his arms snake around me.
“I woke up and you were gone.” There’s a petulant tone to his voice, and I smile to hear it.Spoiled rockstar…
“I wanted to let you sleep a little longer, so I let Geoffrey in to fix breakfast. He just left.” My head falls back against his chest as his embrace tightens the slightest bit. “Do you want some coffee? Or some juice? There are three different kinds in there.”
“No. I just want you.” He breathes against my ear. “Why are you dressed already?”
“Should I have let Geoffrey in wearing your t-shirt and nothing else?”
“Fuck no. Do you want me to hurt the man just because he saw your beautiful legs? Or your pretty, bare ass?”
When I giggle, he takes the coffee cup from my hands, sets it on a nearby table, then turns me to face him. He’s in his sleep shorts again, but still no shirt, and my fingers itch to discover all over again the muscles I worshipped last night. Instead, I content myself with tracing the feathers of his tattoo.
His hazel eyes are warm, still sleepy, and he’s so damned handsome it causes a catch in my heart. I love him. Love him even more now. This Greyson is the man I suspected lay hidden beneath the surface all along.
“Last night was amazing, Emerson.” The words rumble from his chest like the purr of a satisfied lion.
“It was for me, too.” My whisper accompanies a brush of my mouth along his stubbled jaw. My hand travels to his hair of its own accord, sweeping the strands into some order so it doesn’t look like we just rolled out of bed.
“I don’t know where we go from here, but I don’t want this to end. I want you here. With me. I’ve never felt this way before, and I can trust you. It’s always hard for me, the day of Alex’s death. Would you be willing to stay for a few days? I don’t want to be alone.”
