Page 45 of To Teleport, or Not to Teleport?
We’d buried Eliza a few days after “the event,” as Cami and I’d begun referring to the showdown with Angelica. Never in a million years would I have thought she was capable of murder. Sure, she had a case of resting dog face and was a grouchy pile of poo, but that didn’t imply she would hurt anyone past a verbal assault.
While we’d all been focused on what had happened to Eliza, Mac had ripped out Angelica’s throat a second later. I supposed in different circumstances, Baba Yaga would have been upset to lose a witch, but as king of the Shifters, Mac had the right to avenge one of his own, especially an unwarranted attack.
There were plenty of times I had imagined smacking Kenny for not accepting I wasn’t interested in him or for telling Grayson he wasn’t good enough for me. It didn’t mean I would actually harm the nincompoop.
No one had the right to tell me who was good enough for me. Only I could make that decision.
A knock on the door vibrated through the room, and I froze midflip of the calendar. Sucking in a breath, I set the page and turned slowly, hoping my thoughts hadn’t conjured the man. He’d managed to avoid me for the last couple of weeks—thank the Goddess for small blessings.
Butterflies took flight the moment my gaze landed on Grayson. He leaned against the doorframe in a pair of jeans that molded to his muscular thighs, a gray T-shirt stretched across his chest. The man was absolutely mouthwatering.
“Ms. Sniffer, I’m here for detention,” he said, a naughty grin spreading across his face.
The light in his eyes was a little brighter than a few days ago, and hope blossomed within me that things would one day be okay again.
“You’re late, Mr. McCune. It’s bad enough you did what you did,” I said, my lips twitching with the urge to laugh.
Grayson pushed off the doorframe and closed the distance between us, one arm hidden behind his back. “What if I promise never to do it again?”
My lips trembled, but I pushed down the giggle trying to escape. “Mhmm…”
He presented me with a bouquet of wildflowers he’d been hiding and bent at the waist. “I brought you these.”
“Thank you.” I accepted the flowers and breathed them in.
Grayson cupped my face between his hands and kissed me, a gentle nip of my lips and a teasing swipe of his tongue along mine. When he broke the kiss, I whimpered and followed, wanting more.
“Ready to get out of here?” he asked, offering me a hand as he straightened.
“Absolutely,” I said, grabbing my messenger bag as I accepted his hand.
He threaded our fingers together and guided me out of the school. A few teachers and students who still lingered waved or smiled in our direction. The energy was different than it had been before “the event.”
The side-eyeing had mostly stopped, but I knew everyone couldn’t be pleased.
We spent the drive to his house talking about our days. He’d been working on a new piece that someone had purchased sight unseen. Per usual, I was teaching my kids and running three times a week with the running club. Grayson even joined us occasionally.
At the top of his porch steps, I paused when I noticed the new couch. “Gray?”
“Do you like it?”
I walked over and sat, letting the strap to my bag fall off my shoulder. From my spot, I could see the driveway and front yard. Closing my eyes, I soaked in the peace. “I love it.”
“I’d wanted to make a swing, but I didn’t know if you still got motion sickness.”
I grinned. “Have I told you today how amazing you are?”
The cushions shifted and his arm wrapped around my shoulders, drawing me into his warm, hard body. “Maybe, but I love hearing you think so.”
“This is what you’ve been working on when you couldn’t sleep?” I asked, regretting the words the moment he stiffened.
Grayson released a heavy sigh. “I can’t stop seeing it hit her or stop feeling the weight of her body going limp in my arms.”
I pressed a kiss to his chest and wrapped an arm around his middle. While he’d been plagued with those images, I’d woken up a few nights with the image of Grayson being struck by the bolt of electricity rather than his mother.
Angelica’s words had run a marathon through my mind, and I still wasn’t sure if Grayson had any idea as to what she’d alluded to.
“Dad cheated on Mom a few times,” he whispered as if he’d read my mind. “I was a kid, and Mom had always done her best to shield me, but I heard a few of their fights. I’m not sure how many women or how many times, but clearly Angelica had fallen under his charms. I never would have imagined my coming back to town would result in Mom’s death.”
