Page 81 of Grissom
“Enchilada casserole. Tanner made a green salad to go with it, and Luke honey-buttered the scones. You hungry or something?” she teased.
He’d never seen the sassy side of Miss Tuesday Smart before, but he was loving it. She was a brat, an adorable, sexy brat who wasn’t afraid to be the happy, contented woman in all of her just fucked glory. Delectably, sinfully sweet. A naughty brat maybe, but his brat.
“I’m always hungry for you,” he growled, his body hardening to make love with this woman again. But she was right. His sons needed him, and he needed to get his hands on them. So, while Tuesday dried her tantalizing body, then twisted her wet hair into a ponytail, he trimmed his beard, brushed his teeth, and watched her in the steamy mirror the entire time.
The teasing way she smiled back at him was to die for. She knew he was watching, and the mischievous emerald glints in her eyes dared him to engage. In what, he had no idea… until she wiggled her ass into her panties and jeans. The woman was one helluva Playboy Bunny, standing there half-naked. As seductive as a stripper, she nestled her girls into her bra cups, then lifted a white shirt off the doorknob and—
“Hold up. New duds?” Not like he’d seen much of her wardrobe before, but the shirt hanging off her fingertips did not say New York City. “Where’d you get that?”
“What? This old thing?”
“Doesn’t look old to me. In fact…” He purposefully brushed the backs of his fingers over those brimming satin cups to the shiny brass snaps running from the crisply ironed collar of said shirt, over the white, embossed yoke, and down to the tails. “This is pure western. You’ve been horseback riding? Without me?”With Maverik? I’ll kill him.
She hung her arms around his neck like a lasso, mashing his hands between their bodies. Which served his purpose.Grissom squeezed the full cups of her bra, enhancing her already dynamite cleavage. If they kept this up, they were never leaving the bathroom.
“The boys and I went riding every day you were gone. Maverick set me up with a dappled gray mare, and, oh, yeah, I found a counselor, too. Ms. Ashlee Peyton. She actually called me, looking for you and your boys, wondering why you missed your appointment.”
“Damn. I forgot.”
“No matter. I took the boys in to chat with her after she called. Tanner and Luke jabbered like two little magpies. I think that surprised Ashlee. But I didn’t go in with them for their session. I figured they’d talk more openly without me, so I stayed in the waiting room.”
“They don’t usually say much.”
Tuesday nodded. “That’s what Ashlee said. I talked with her afterward, just to let her know you’d be back for your next session.”
“Come with us?”
“I was hoping you’d ask. I’d love to, as long as it’s okay with the boys.”
“They’ll love having you there. You’re family. Get used to it.”
They dressed, then hurried to the back stairs, where Grissom took the steps two at a time. He couldn’t wait to get his boys in his arms again. But he stalled at the top step. Stunned. Speechless. Tears in his eyes. Tuesday had done it again. She’d told him she’d take his family’s portrait, but this—
She’d turned his plain, unadorned loft into a photographic essay of love. Portraits. Dozens of portraits. Still shots of him with his boys. Close-ups that had him wiping his eyes. Silhouettes taken against the family room’s high front windows. Intimate shots of him and his boys when he hadn’t known she’d been working. The resident photographer, Miss Tuesday Smart,had performed a miracle Christmas morning. She’d blessed this empty old house with spirit. The McCoy spirit.
Several of Tanner’s drawings were professionally framed and positioned in their own separate gallery, complete with display lights mounted above them. The silver metal frames matched the jets he loved. She’d included the F-35 and F-16 pilots’ autographed, glossy eight-by-elevens. Luke had his own separate gallery of the crayon drawings he’d drawn Christmas day. How could Grissom ever thank Tuesday for capturing these memories? For making Tanner and Luke feel important?
Luke noticed him standing there shell-shocked and silent. “Daddy!” he squealed, beating feet straight into Grissom’s arms. He knelt to catch his baby boy as Luke collided with him. “We been busy! I missed you!” he shrilled, peppering Grissom’s face with sloppy kisses, his arms tight around Grissom’s neck and squeezing tighter.
“I see that,” Grissom breathed, so damned emotional he could cry. Could, nothing. He was.
“What’s a matter, Dad?” Tanner asked, his voice tight with worry.
Grissom held out an arm for his anxious oldest son to join him and Luke. “I’m just happy,” he managed to choke.I’m so damned happy.
Tuesday’s fingers were light but firm on his shoulders. She was the glue he hadn’t realized his family needed. She’d made them a family. Her family. All he’d done was buy a house, but she was the one who’d filled it with love and made it home.
Happy was such a small word.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Three months later
“I don’t wanna be late! Hurry, Luke! You’re gonna make me miss everything!” Tanner yelled from the kitchen. Dressed in a mini-tuxedo, he was the sweaty, anxious ringbearer for today’s prestigious event, and he was taking it seriously.
“I coming,” Luke grouched, his red-and-blue striped tie hanging loose around his little neck. “Daddy says I hafta leave Spot home, but I don’t wanna.” He glared at his father, as he climbed up beside Grissom on the couch. “Spot’s never seen a wedding. He wants ta come, too.”
Damn Taylor Armstrong for telling him that no ring bearer worth his salt was ever late. The poor kid had never watched the microwave clock like he was watching it today. Heston and London were finally getting married, and they’d chosen Maverick’s barn for the ceremony and reception, and Tanner for their ringbearer. The rustic place was decorated to the rafters, and every last one of those Percherons’ manes were braided and they had ribbons woven into their tails. Made quite a sight in the pasture.
