The Truth (3 page)

Grayson turned to her, “I’ll see you at six.”

Lexie could only stare after him as he followed Marissa out of the shop. Crap.

Fastening the last button on her blouse, Lexie tugged on the hem, straightening the soft blue silk over her short black skirt. Turning in a slow circle, she checked her reflection in the mirror. She really didn’t know why she cared so much about how she looked.

The doorbell rang, and with one final glance at herself, she slipped on her strappy black heels and headed for the door.

Grayson whistled softly as his eyes roamed from her head to her toes. “You look amazing.”

So did he. He wore a light gray sweater that accented his broad shoulders and trim waist over a simple pair of blue jeans. His eyes were bright, and his hair was tousled from the wind, giving him a carefree look.

She stepped back to let him enter, and all but salivated as the manly scent of his light cologne permeated her senses. “I thought we were going out?” she asked, surprised to see him holding a bottle of wine and a paper take-out bag.

“I decided I didn’t want to share you, so I brought dinner.” He walked past her and into the kitchen, setting the bag on the counter like he’d lived there all his life.

She turned to watch him as he opened one cupboard, then another before pulling out two wine glasses and then opened a drawer, searching for a corkscrew. A part of her wanted to be angry at him for his assertiveness, but she couldn’t deny the fact that his self-assurance was alluring. His refusal to give up his pursuit of her should’ve bordered on disturbing, yet somehow it wasn’t. It was charming and flattering. She wasn’t sure how to fight against his advances; she only knew she had to. She was a mother now, and her life was no longer her own. She couldn’t afford to make careless choices. A sweet-talking, gets-what-he-wants police officer was asking for trouble.

She hopped up onto the counter, watching as he unloaded Chinese cartons from the bag.

Glancing over at her, he set the last carton on the counter and smiled. “I couldn’t figure out if you didn’t like me, didn’t like men, or if you had an embarrassing habit of dribbling on yourself when you ate and therefore weren’t comfortable eating out in public.”

She smothered her laugh, and accepted the glass he handed her.

“I decided the only way to know for sure was to spend a little time alone with you and, at the same time, watch you eat. Besides, who can resist Mongolian beef and eggrolls?”

The spicy aroma rose from the cartons as he opened them. Mongolian beef was her favorite.

“I don’t dribble on myself.” He smiled and handed her a carton and a set of chopsticks. Picking up her glass, she slid off the counter and headed toward the living room, slipping her shoes off and tipping her head in a beckon to follow.

The living room was bright and inviting. Homey was the look she’d been going for when she’d brought Ryan home. A wall of windows looked out over the ocean, reflecting the subtle oranges and reds in the sky at the beginning stages of the setting sun. She curled into the corner of the comfortable red couch, crossed her legs beneath her, and dug her chopsticks into the carton. Grayson sat on the other end of the couch, and silently watched her as he bit into an eggroll.

The intensity of his gaze made her uneasy. He gave her the impression he could read her mind. She’d never considered herself timid or shy, especially around men, but he made her nervous. All of her self-assurance seemed to leave her when he was around. The wall she’d built around her didn’t feel high enough or strong enough to keep him out. She didn’t like the fact he affected her in that way.

“Go get changed.” The tone of his voice made the simple order sound like a soft caress.

She shook her head, attempting to break the invisible rope pulling her to him. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Her voice resembled a petulant child, and not the grown, nobody-tells-me-what-to-do woman she was.

“I want to walk on the beach, hold your hand, and watch the sunset on the water.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. He sat watching her. His mouth twitched in one corner making it obvious he knew the affect he was having on her. He made her feel powerless over her own emotions. She didn’t like it. “Unless you’re afraid you won’t be able to control yourself,” he challenged, his eyes full of mischief.

She snarled, hoping it sounded more like the “not a chance” dismissal she intended, and less of the “I don’t know what to say to that” sound she heard. She stood up and took a large swallow of her wine. “There will be no hand holding. We’re not on a date. I agreed to have a meal with you, for the simple purpose of getting you to stop asking.”

This time, his face broke into a wide smile, and he winked at her.

“I am only agreeing to take a walk with you because it will get you off of my couch and closer to your car.” She stood up and walked from the room, the sound of his amused laughter followed her until she closed her bedroom door with a snap. She leaned against it and took a couple of deep breaths.

She needed to place some distance between them. Her body threatened to demolish the last shred of self-preservation she had. Every part of her wanted to melt into him. She couldn’t recall ever wanting a man more. She also knew Grayson was the type of man who could snap a woman’s heart into little pieces, especially hers. She needed to be smart. Her heart wasn’t available and never would be. It was fragile, not strong enough to stand another heartbreak. He was sexy, cocky, and wore a badge. Three major strikes against him.

Lexie pulled on her jeans along with a pale peach sweater, and took one last deep breath for strength before walking into the living room. To her surprise, he’d put the food away, washed the glasses, wiped her counters, and corked the wine. “You didn’t have to do that. I could have taken care of it later.”

“It was a few cartons and two glasses.” He tilted his head and creased his brow. “Exactly how long has it been since you’ve had a man in your life, Lexie?”

“I … I … ” She felt the color rise on her cheeks. “It’s none of your business. And what does that have to do with anything?” she snapped, relieved to have found her voice.

Ignoring her questions, he grabbed his keys, and handed hers to her. “Ready?”

• • •

Grayson watched her as she walked a foot or two ahead of him. Her sandals dangled from her fingers by their straps, her bare feet catching the waves as they rolled onto the beach.

She was a complicated woman. He knew she was attracted to him. No matter what her mouth said, her body language and her eyes told him the truth. What he didn’t understand was why she continued to keep him at arm’s length. He wanted to get to know her, but she shot him down on every attempt.

He assumed she’d been hurt in the past. Was it by Ryan’s father? He’d tried to get Jordan to fill in some of the blanks but he’d only say the story with Lexie and Ryan was complicated, and she’d tell him herself when, and if, she was ready.

Regardless of her past, he wanted a piece of her future. No matter how small. She’d made him come alive again after years of barely existing. A weight lifted from him the minute he’d looked into her surprised eyes. Now, all he had to do was convince her to let him in. He was beginning to think his only way in was by pushing and shoving. He could do that.

Picking up his pace, he caught up with her, and reached over to grab hold of her hand. As he’d assumed, she instantly began to tug her hand away, trying to break his grip. She stopped and turned to face him, her other hand on her hip, her lips pursed.

They stood in a silent challenge with each other while the waves lapped at their ankles. His heart began to race. Her eyes grew wide. He took a step closer to her. She took a step back, inhaling a breath. He reached out and pulled her against him, her arms automatically coming to rest on his chest, her sandals leaving particles of sand on his shirt. He wasn’t sure if her intent was to be closer, or to push him away. He lifted his hands and ran them through her hair, never taking his eyes from hers.

Her expressive eyes showed uncertainty, confusion, and longing. Using gentle pressure against the back of her head, he kept her from bolting. Her eyes fluttered closed and her body gave up its fight, growing soft in his arms. He gently brushed his lips over hers, taking his time, exploring their shape and texture. Parting her lips, he deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking hers. A soft moan escaped her lips and shot through his system like electricity. Gripping her tighter, he suckled her bottom lip and nibbled it with his teeth. Dropping her sandals, she reached over his shoulders and dug her hands into his hair, pulling him closer, taking her fill.

With reluctance, he loosened his grip on her, and pulled away. He watched her as her eyelids fluttered open. Their eyes locked. She stepped back, looking as if she might run. He took hold of her hand and started walking down the beach.

He had been longing to do that, but now that he’d touched her he wanted to take her in his arms again. Judging by her nervous behavior, he decided it might be best to slow it down and give her time to realize he was nowhere near done kissing her.

In the weeks that followed, Grayson had integrated himself into her life. All of her good intentions to keep him at arm’s length failed miserably. How was she supposed to fight a man who turned her brain to mush when he kissed her? Making him harder to resist, he not only made her happy, but her son as well. Somehow, Grayson had slipped into her son’s life like he’d always been there. He shared his love for the stars with Ryan and the two of them spent hours laying on the beach, with Grayson pointing out the constellations, and telling Ryan the stories behind their names.

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and the three of them had decided to spend the day in San Francisco. Lexie lifted her hand and waved at Ryan as he whizzed past her in his shiny red bumper car. The sound of his laughter rang through the air as he slammed into the side of Grayson’s car. Grayson mumbled something about getting even, and hit the gas, chasing after Ryan and trying to cut in front of him. She heard her son’s moan of disappointment as his car came to a stop, followed by an explosion of giggles as Grayson scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder, tickling his side as they headed toward her.

“Can we go again?” Ryan asked her breathlessly once he had his feet back under him.

Grayson stepped over and wrapped his arm around Lexie as he answered her son. “How about we eat first? I’m starving.”

“Then we can go again?” Ryan grabbed ahold of Grayson’s free hand.

“We’ll see,” Lexie responded, prompting a groan from Ryan.

As they drew closer to Fisherman’s Wharf, Ryan raced ahead, enthralled by the large metal crab statue. “Come on, Grayson, come on,” he urged.

“Hang on buddy, we’re coming. Slow down,” Grayson called after him, pulling Lexie along with him.

As Ryan picked up speed, ignoring his calls, Grayson ran after him, and grabbing him around the waist, hoisted Ryan onto his shoulders. Lexie felt her chest constrict at the comfortable picture they painted.

They stopped at the railing and pointed out the large sea lions sunning themselves on the docks below. Walking farther down the pier, Grayson pointed out Alcatraz across the water and explained its history to them.

An older couple walking past stopped and smiled at the animated little boy. “Your son seems to be enjoying himself,” the woman said to Grayson.

Grayson smiled and nodded his head as they walked by, neither correcting her nor confirming her assumption.

Ryan giggled. “Grayson, she thought you were my daddy.”

Grayson tilted his head and looked over his shoulder. “She sure did. But she doesn’t know that any son of mine would never try to kill me with a bumper car.”

Ryan erupted with laughter again. “Yuh-huh he would, ’cause you can’t drive it.”

As the two of them debated back and forth which one held the best bumper car skills, she couldn’t miss the questions written on Grayson’s face when he looked over at her.

They hadn’t talked about Ryan’s parentage. She wasn’t even sure if he knew Ryan had been adopted. She hadn’t been in a relationship since becoming his mother, and she’d never had to clarify to anyone. Ryan was her son, and how that came to be wasn’t necessarily in the forefront of her mind. But this was different. Grayson was different.

“Ready to eat?” Grayson asked her.

Nodding her head, she took the hand he offered and walked through the open door into the Crab House on Pier 39. They took a seat and placed their order. Lexie reached over and tied the plastic bib around Ryan’s neck.

“I’m not a baby!” he snapped, trying to rip the bib from his neck.

Grayson tied his own bib around his neck. “No, you’re not a baby. If you were, you wouldn’t be able to crack your own crab like the grown-ups.”

Ryan straightened his bib, suddenly appearing proud to be wearing it. He looked over at his mother and broke into laughter again. “Mom, you look funny.”

“Me? What about you two?” Lexie asked while struggling to look hurt by his comment. She couldn’t do it. She laughed as she looked down at herself and across the table at Grayson.

When their lunch arrived, Lexie showed Ryan how to work the cracker, and use the small fork to remove the meat. He wore more than he ate, but his determination to do it himself melted her heart.

After four more rides on the bumper cars, and a double feature of
Toy Story
and
Toy Story 2,
Grayson carried an exhausted Ryan into his room. Lexie managed to get him out of his dirty clothes and into his pajamas before he fell asleep.

Closing his bedroom door, she walked into the living room and curled up on the couch beside Grayson and leaned her head on his shoulder. He kissed her forehead, and asked, “Are you tired?” He pressed his cheek against her head and ran his hands through her hair.

“You two wear me out.” She snuggled closer to him, enjoying the sensation of his fingers in her hair.

He lifted his head and turning toward her, reached out and gently raised her chin. “I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he told her before pressing his lips to hers. Her body melted into him, drawing the kiss deeper.