Page 21 of Grissom
“Yeah, and we’re really hungry,” Luke reminded everyone from where he stood at Tuesday’s knee, looking up at her. Damned if his grubby little hand wasn’t already tucked inside hers.
Drawing in a much calmer breath, Grissom looked into her clear green eyes and said, “I messed up. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me for being a… a guy?”
Two little faces pivoted from Grissom back to Tuesday. “There’s nothing to forgive, Mr. McCoy,” she said as she took a step toward Grissom with Luke following. “You were concerned for your boys. I respect that.”
“Please call me Grissom,” he asked her again.
She dipped her head. “Okay. Grissom.”
He couldn’t understand why his name sounded different on her lips than when others said it, but it did. “Breakfast?” he asked, encouraged by how easily she was forgiving him. “Please say yes, or I’m going to have a fight on my hands.” He gave her his best puppy dog eyes and hoped he looked a little adorable.
There was nothing, absolutely no hint of Pam’s ugly nature in Tuesday. Why he’d thrown up those chicken shit walls between her and his sons, Grissom didn’t know. Except deep down he did. Tuesday was too good to be true. She was everything his mother and Pamela had never been. She was kind and caring. She’d rescued his boys when she could’ve looked the other way and left poor Tanner in Estes’ filthy hands. But she hadn’t. She’d gone toe-to-toe with that pig, and then she’d faced Pam and succeeded in rescuing Tanner and Luke. She’d taken them in and treated them like they were hers. She’d loved them, and—
She loved them still.
Grissom’s eyes finally opened. HesawTuesday Smart, truly saw her for who she was and how much she genuinely loved his boys. Damned if the still small voice in his heart didn’t whisper, ‘Duh.’Tuesday’s love showed in the tenderly possessive way she held Luke’s grubby hand. It beamed out of her eyes at Tanner like bright, golden rays of encouragement. She shared his worst secret, yet there he was, in love with the woman who was not his mother. Who would never be anything like Pam.
The enormity of what he was finally looking st struck Grissom like a jagged bolt of lightning out of the clear blue sky. He was treading new territory. If this went wrong, his sons would become collateral damage again. They wer the primary reason behind him establishing those boundaries. Only… his boys were the ones showing him the way. They’d both run headlong through those stupid, imaginary limitations he’d set and embraced Tuesday.
Grissom took another step toward her. “Just to be clear…” He cleared his throat. “You’re too young for me.” It sounded like he was setting another boundary, but it was the first thing that popped into his head, and, of course, it came right out of his mouth. Damn it, he’d blown it again, and another panic attack crawled like fire ants beneath his skin.
Until the corners of her pretty mouth tweaked upward, as if she knew he hadn’t meant to be as rude as he’d sounded. Which made one of them. He was still standing there, wishing he could call that lame come-on line back.
“Gosh, how oldareyou?” Tuesday teased.
The tense fingers of panic relinquished their forward march as her smile spilled over him. Him, of all people. Was it possible? Could she like a guy like him? Not that he was in love with her. He honestly didn’t know what genuine, honest, feminine love felt like. He’d never had it in his life. He wasn’t in love with her now, damn it. But he could be. He could at least admit that much. He did like Tuesday, and he had kind of fallen for her when she was sitting with Luke on her lap, back in the pasture surrounded by all those “giant” horses.
“Twenty-nine,” he declared boldly. Twenty-nine damned hard years of learning how to survive.
“Wow, that’s really old, huh, guys?” she asked his sons.
“Yeah!” Luke squealed. “Daddy’s older than everybody I know!”
“He is!” Tanner agreed enthusiastically. “He’s real old.”
Grissom shrugged off those playful jabs, wondering how old Tuesday was. Not that he’d ask. But someday he might. Maybe.
“I’m glad I’m notthatold,” she said as if she’d read his mind.
That was good enough for Grissom. With Tanner still in one arm, he reached for her free hand. “I’m buying breakfast. Let’s ride.”
The sun picked that precise moment to break between the clouds, spotlighting her in a shaft of golden light. WTF? Coincidence? Fate? Or—dare he hope—destiny? Grissom grinned at the sheer stupidity of that third option. She might be the angel who’d rescued his boys—and she was. But he was the nerdy guy in that movie,“Back to the Future,”the guy who’d mispronounced destiny and said,“Density,”instead.
Grissom didn’t believe in destiny. But density? His mother had always said he was as dense as a brick.That—he could wrap his hard head around. Density it was and density was good enough. Look where it got that guy in the movie.
Chapter Eleven
With Luke on her left and Tanner on her right in one of several 1950s style booths at Cakes and Honey, Tuesday felt more alive than she had in a long time. Grissom had taken his sons into the restroom as soon as they’d arrived. But now, he sat by himself on the bench seat opposite them. His boys were wedged in, so tight against her that she had to lift her arms over their heads when she needed to reach anything on the table. Even though he was alone on his side of the booth, Grissom’s handsome face was a mixture of pride and an emotion Tuesday couldn’t quite put her finger on.
She nearly laughed out loud at the quandary she was in. There she sat, hugging his sons, nearly unable to puther handson the table, yet neither could she puta fingeron the emotion behind their father’s expression. The moment was utterly, ridiculously sublime. She was surrounded by men, but did she understand them? Actually, yes. The boys were easy. But Grissom? The jury was still out on him.
After riding back to the barn, unsaddling their horses, brushing them down, and then watering them, Grissom, Tuesday, and the boys had climbed into his well-used, rusted Silverado. The poor thing looked like it’d seen better days—a long time ago. Once Grissom had strapped his boys into their booster seats on the rear bench, he’d helped Tuesday climb aboard. Thank heavens for running boards. She didn’t want a boost up or his hands on her backside, and he didn’t assume she did, like some guys would have. If anything, he’d been very careful to cup her elbow for that boost up. Between his assist and the suicide strap, she’d managed.
As good as Grissom’s hug had felt during their ride, and as much as Tuesday was attracted to him, the truth remained. His sons weren’t hers, and his feelings towards her were conflicted. So much so that he’d tried to sabotage the last hours of their short time together.
Tuesday honestly wasn’t sure how she felt about him. Tanner and Luke, yes. But their troubled father? For a few moments back in the pasture, she’d enjoyed the evil eye he’d given Maverick. Grissom had been jealous. For no reason, true, but Tuesday noticing he seemed to care about her then, had warmed her like nothing had before. But somewhere between then and now he’d turned to ice. Made excuses. Wouldn’t make eye contact. Until his boys forced his hand. Yes, Grissom had apologized, but only when he’d had no choice.
As much as his arms around her had grounded Tuesday…
