Page 43 of Grissom
“There are no do-overs in life.” Lifting her chin, she pressed her lips between his brows. “There’s only us four kids, and we’re doing the best we can with what we’ve got. And right now, I’ve got everything I ever wanted. I’ve got you.”
The flowery scent of her hair floating over his face caressed Grissom like irresistible angel wings. It was time to change the subject before he broke down.
“So, umm…” He hugged her tight, giving himself time to breathe and calm down. He’d only ever been this emotional when his boys were born, and these feelings were wearing on his good intention to not roll her over and rut like a caveman.
“Umm”—what was I going to say? Oh, yeah—“I’ve been thinking about your idea. Thought I’d call Dad tomorrow and get a feel for how things are back home. You know, see if I can get an honest answer out of him. See if he’d be interested in making a change, maybe moving into a safe house, maybe even helping us put one together.”
“Why don’t you just invite your parents for a visit? You have a big house. Maybe then, you and your dad could talk, while me and your mom—”
“No,” snapped out of Grissom before he could stop it. He shook his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean that how it sounded, but I don’t want Mom inside this house. It’s Tanner’s and Luke’s safe place. I can’t let her take over, like I know she will.”
Tuesday’s fingers never missed a beat as they soothed over his suddenly tense scalp and neck. “Okay, no problem. Whatever you decide. You know them better than I do, and honestly, I’m afraid I’d hurt your mom if she made even one teensy mean comment about you or your boys.”
“Which she would the second she arrived.”
“Which would get her smacked, trust me.”
Grissom chuckled. “You smack many people in your life?”
Still lying on her back, Tuesday smiled shyly. “No, but I’ve put down a couple of belligerent bullies before, and I know how to stand my ground, Mr. McCoy. What are your parents’ names? You just call them Mom and Dad. Want to share?”
Oh, fuck, did he want to share. Just. Not. Them. But Tuesday deserved to know so Grissom settled for a terse, “Randy and Vivian McCoy. Dad’s a janitor at a private hospital between Portland and Vancouver, and my mom’s a, a housewife.” If that was what you called being a prima donna who did nothing all day but expect everyone to kiss her ass.
“Which is a noble career choice, motherhood. A full-time mom is better than an army of babysitters. She’s never worked outside the home?”
“Nope.” Grissom let the P pop. “That’s Dad’s job, according to the Book of Mom.”
“Then…” Tuesday ran her fingers down Grissom’s neck to his collarbones, and he shivered like that ugly, three-legged ugly dog again. He was caught in the gentlest snare, one he savoredinstead of fought. One he craved. She was breathing on him and her eyes sparkled like green fireflies in the middle of a dark night. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear there was magic in the air.
“Then what?” he asked, striving to keep from pushing her legs apart and shoving deep into her body.
“Then what’s she do all day?”
“Nothing, as far as I know. But I haven’t kept in touch.” He didn’t want to explain how rotten his mother was. There. That did it. Just thinking about his mom halted the blood supply to his cock.
“Okay then, call your dad whenever you’re ready. I’ll support whatever you decide. In the meantime…” Tuesday yawned. “Mind if I sleep over? Just tonight? Then tomorrow, I’ll—”
“You’ll stay right here, woman. In my house.”
“But the boys—”
“The boys will be thrilled when they wake up and find you’re still here.”
“Well, okay.” She burrowed under his arm, her head on his shoulder. “If you insist.”
Grissom’s hand smoothed down her back to her warm, plump ass. “I insist. I finally found you; I’m not letting you go.”
“Hmmm,” she whispered, her fingers fluttering over his like tiny angel wings asking to come inside. Tipping forward, she pressed a kiss to his sternum, her lips so damned soft against his skin that tears brimmed again. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted the one with him now, and it wasn’t just for sex. He’d watched Tuesday work her gentle, loving kind of magic on his boys, and she’d sprinkled it on him. He was a goner. Standing, not falling. He was totally in love.
Threading his fingers into her hair, he closed his eyes and whispered, “Stay as long as you want, love.” Was it too soon to ask for forever?
“I will,” she murmured through a sleepy sigh.
“Promise me.”
“One more day, yeah, I can do that,” she whispered.
Grissom knew he was grasping at the only gold ring he’d ever stumble across in his life, but he wasn’t letting Tuesday go. Somehow, he’d convince her to stay tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that.
