Only for Us (2 page)

The singing comes closer as Cally wanders back into the room, all her attention on her hands as she tries unsuccessfully to tear into her milk box with her doll and a water bottle tucked under her arms. “My milk’s not listening.”

“Snugglebug, why don’t you stay home with me. Cherry and Grayson were just leaving.” I take the box and pop the straw into it, handing it back after she has propped her doll on the couch with the water.

Sudden tears spring in her eyes. “I wanna go to the pwark. Aunt Chwerry pwomised.”

Shit, shoot, shit
. I don’t know what to do right now.

“Pwease.” Her little bottom lip pops out.

I close my eyes and rub my temples for a minute. I hear Cherry take a step, and I sigh, turning toward her. We lock eyes. She’s sorry, I’m sorry—it’s just that this moment is unplanned.

Cherry grins though I know it’s forced. “If you’d like, Emma, we can stick with the Cally-Cherry day of fun. It’s my fault we swung by. I forgot to pack her dolly. Lord knows I wasn’t going to survive the day without it.”

“Pwease, Mommy.”

I want to make sure Cally’s okay. We’ve never had this much time apart, and then she walks into a shirtless Grayson. Is she confused? Clueless? I don’t remember this chapter in any of the “how to survive teenage single motherhood” books I devoured. I’m sure scenarios like this were included, though not with all the drama. I just never thought I’d love anyone else—and I was right.

Hesitantly, I eye Cherry and give Cally a hug. “Okay. Have fun, baby.”

She squeals out of my arms and runs towards the back door. “C’mon, Aunt Chwerry!”

“Coming, honey.” My sister turns but watches me. I’ve had more time than her to process Grayson. I can tell she’s struggling with knowing the right thing to say. “Emma… you okay?”

“Yeah.”
Better than okay
. I’m on a high from watching Grayson fall in love with Cally.

“You have to call Ryan. He’ll find out. He’s about as good with surprises as you are.”

I cringe. “I will.”

“I will first,” Grayson says.

“Right,” Cherry shoots back, shaking her head. “Details later, Emma.” She casts a protective glance at me, shifting it to a challenging glare as she turns to Grayson. Seconds struggle by, but she relents. “Guess you two have a lot to catch up on.”

“Aunt Chwerry!”

“Coming, honey. For real this time.” She gives us one last hard look. “Bye.”

My sister leaves us standing amid tension, conflict, and her judgement. She and Cally giggle in the kitchen as the back door opens.

“Bye, Mommy,” Cally shouts then the door slaps shut.

An overwhelming silence coats the room. So much just happened in the last fifteen minutes—just as so much has happened between Grayson and me over the last twenty-four hours. I take a deep breath and collapse on the couch. Grayson drops down next to me. One heavy arm wraps around me as the other hand takes my hand. There are so many thoughts running in my head that I’m not sure where one starts and another stops. What I do know is… I fell in love today. Twice. With the same man who has always had my heart.

He squeezes my hand tight and clears his throat. “I’m… without words.”

Know the feeling. Cherry honks twice as she pulls away. My heart is still in my throat, and I’m drifting down from my adrenaline high. “Cally’s amazing, right?”

His perfect face and chiseled jaw tilt toward me, but his fierce green eyes remain on the path our daughter took on her way out. “Ems… she’s perfect.”

I just witnessed a man meet his greatest weakness—and his truest love—and embrace it without thought of complication or fear. He’s always been her father, but now I’m sure she’ll have a daddy.

“Sweet little perfection,” he mumbles.

I can’t take any more, and I bury my head into his neck. “What do we do after something like that happens?”

“I don’t know. Sit here and think…”

I nod into his strong hold. His soapy scent and abounding confidence make me calm. “That’s not how I thought a daddy-daughter introduction would go.”

He leans into me as though I’m holding him up. “You’ve thought about it?”

“Of course.” I’ve thought about our life as if he never left and was there when I delivered. I imagined that he was deployed and came back to our happy little family—as if he hadn’t abandoned us. We’d have little flags to wave and maybe paint a welcome-home poster.

He presses his lips to my hair. “Might not be what either of us had planned, but that was one of the best moments… ever.”

True. One for the record books.

His cell phone rings, and I sigh. “You need to get that?”

“Not mine. Oh—shit. Yeah. That’s me.” He reaches to his back pocket and digs out a phone, swiping the screen to accept the call. “Hello?”

He listens, and I watch, curious about who is calling him on a Saturday morning when I didn’t think anyone knew he was back.

Grayson pulls himself off the couch and paces. “When?”

More silence, and his brow furrows. “Can do. Thanks.” He ends the calls and pockets the phone then crosses his arms over his chest and stares out the window.

“Who was that?” I ask. There’s something on his face that I can’t read. An uncertainty. Or maybe apprehension. But there’s also a determination. It flexes in his jaw and his neck and burns brightly in his eyes as he casts his gaze out onto my little front yard.

He’s standing at an angle that makes me appreciate how
huge
he’s become—taller and broader than in high school. Everything about him is masculine and magnetic. It’s a curious feeling—not having anyone to love or to stare at and then finding some combination of model and action hero who wants to play house with me. And he wants to do more than just pretend.

When he turns to face me head-on, there’s hesitant vagueness hanging on his sculpted face. “I think… it was a job interview.”

“What?” I’m surprised—I don’t know why. He said he was staying, so that means work and a home and… I haven’t thought about how any of this will pan out. Do we date? Do we… what? And what about the Army? Does he have to go back?

I feel myself growing flustered, thinking about the bevy of unknown factors. The internal questions blur and ring in my ears. The pressure of the future suddenly feels oppressive as though answers and decisions need to be made right now.

“Hey, hey—easy there.” Grayson’s at my side, swallowing me in his arms and chest.

I’m not sure I’ve ever noticed my heart as much as since he’s been home. Right now, it’s beating against my ribs as I’m surrounded by his muscles, hidden from the world.

He strokes the back of my head. “What just happened there? Why’re you freaking out?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble, too afraid to voice hopes and concerns. Our relationship-out-of-nowhere seems steady yet so fragile. I’m worried that if I blink wrong, I’ll somehow jinx that magic.

“Don’t hide from me, Ems.”

“A job and… you said you wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t hurt me. But you’re really staying here?”

He nods against me, and I move with him as his body shifts. “Anywhere you are, I swear I’ll be there.”

“Really?”

He tears me from his chest and levels me with a stare so solemn I’m dizzy over whatever he’s about to promise.

“I said I was laying claim to you, Emma, and I want the same thing for Cally. You’re the only family I’ve ever had, and I want that back.”

Cally… family… don’t blink. Don’t wake up.

“Believe me?” His eyes darken in a way that commands my complete attention. “I’ve done nothing for you to give me that trust, but I need you to anyway.”

I’m not pressed against his chest anymore. The warmth that encapsulated me moments ago is gone, but I feel different. Life’s shifted—I’ve been hanging on this roller coaster for years, and now it’s as if we’re cautiously slipping toward smooth sailing. The lump in my throat eases, and my eyelids lift, my gaze falling on the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.

“What do you say?” He inches closer.

“I love you, Grayson.” Deep breath. “When it comes to us, I’m all in.”

He wraps me tight and kisses my temple. “Love you, too. You’re the only one for me.”

CHAPTER TWO

Grayson

As job interviews go, this beats out all others. There’s a million dollars’ worth of weapons in this war room—I’m sure of it. The table is long and sleek. The room is low lit and ice cold. The two men sitting across from me are Titan, but only one of them gave me a name. Parker Black. He’s been my phone contact and was the man behind the truck and cash. The other one… I don’t know whether he’s sizing me up or waiting to share, but we sit here in an intense standoff.

“You’re looking for a job.” The unnamed man leans forward, his shirt sleeves loose and rolled, exposing colorful tattoos and a thick tactical watch that nearly matches mine. He personifies Special Forces.

I was a grunt and good at what I did. I have the honors and medal that show I mean something to someone. But I’m a risk—even if I don’t know what position they’re interviewing for. My medical chart is filled with PTSD. My unit can’t vouch for me because they’re all dead.

“A job? Maybe.”

His eyes cut to Parker’s before snapping back to me. “How old are you?”

“Not sure why that matters.”

“You’re Army.”

I shift in the cold chair. “Was. Yeah.”

“And now you’re not.”

My tongue runs over my teeth as I try not to react to what he must already know. “I
was
Army. Now I’m not.”

He leans back. There’s a thickness hanging in the air. This guy doesn’t want me here? Fine. Fuck it. Don’t care. I’ll work the fry basket for minimum wage and work my way up till I own the goddamn joint. I need income, stability, and whatever else it takes to prove I’m solid ground for Emma. So, all of that means I don’t give a shit about unnamed tattoo man’s evil eye. “What is this? Job interview, waste of my time, or what?”

Parker’s lips pinch, but there’s a laugh in his eyes.

I growl. “You want the truck back? Take it. You interviewing for a job? Interview me.”

The man pushes forward in his chair. His eyebrows pinch. The guy wasn’t relaxed before, but now he’s a wall of resolution. “You’re a young-buck hard-ass. Not what we need around here.”

“You know my name. I know his name.” I lift my chin toward Parker. I’m done with this. He either talks to me or doesn’t. “But who are you?”

“Brock Gamble.”

“And how long have you worked at Titan, Brock Gamble?” This will either make progress or hurry up my exit.

“Since I was your age.”

“And what the fuck did someone say to you when you walked in for an interview?”

Brock leans forward, a growl coming from his chest. “Didn’t interview.”

Thought so.
I slap the table. “Seems about right. Like you guys didn’t know everything about me before I walked in the door.”

A hard smile cracks on Parker’s face.

“If you’re interested, let me know. Otherwise, I’ve got a shit list a mile long, and I don’t have time for BS.” I watch Brock’s face then give him a nod. “Peace.”

No reaction on either guy’s face. I push out of my chair. They’re going to want the truck back, and I’m not going to have a set of wheels. That’s a predicament when I’m trying to prove to this fucked-up county I’m not a runaway dick, but I can work through it.

“Thanks for your time.” I turn for the door.

Brock’s chair echoes in the war room as he stands. “There’s a job. Local.”

Local?
Now that’s interesting. I wouldn’t expect Titan to run an op this close to home. I turn back. “What do you guys have going on around here?”

His jaw works back and forth. “Traffickers working their way up and down the coast.”

“What kind of trafficking?”

“The kind that brings in Titan.”

Not great news. That kind of crime is nothing I want near my family.
Family
… something I’ve never really had before and suddenly want with shocking clarity. I grew up under the thumb of an evil man, so the bad in the world is not lost on me—I knew about it even before I went to war. But all I can picture is blond curls of a little girl who will one day, somehow, bear my name. I swallow away the life-changing realization and nod. “What do you want from me?”

“I need a couple guys. Just show up for a bachelor’s party.”

My brow pinches. “Excuse me?”

“Runners use Interstate 95. They start south and stick near the highway for easy access and quick getaway. Establishments, not truck stops. I want them taken down, but I want their network even more.”

“In Summerland?”

“Next county over but might as well be Summerland.”

Anger boils in my blood. I thought he meant drug trafficking. But… this is more dangerous. “If I agree, I’d do what?”

“Simple—it’s just a bachelor party. Make friends. Keep your eyes open. Blend in, and keep mental notes. You can do that?”