Unexpectedly Yours Page 10

  My throat tightens at those words. Words I won’t correct, but my heart falls as she says them. Drew pulls me tighter to his side and I muster out a simple, “Thank you.”

  “We are going to love our new house,” Drew adds, smirking at me.

  I mouth to him, “Six days,” and he rolls his eyes before mouthing back to me with a wink.

  “That’s what you think.”

  Eleven

  “Six days.” I hear those two fucking words on repeat like a broken record as I drag Gracie out of the furniture store. Fuck that. I’ll let her believe she has six days left, and I’ll make those six days the best of her life, so phenomenal, she won’t want to walk away.

  Our car waits for us in the alley right where he left us, and Tony walks over to meets us at the rear passenger door. “Were you able to get what I requested?” I ask him discreetly.

  He grins with a curt nod. “Yes, sir. Everything is secured.”

  “Thank you.” I shake his hand.

  Tony knows he’ll be rewarded handsomely with a generous tip at the end of the day. I provided him a detailed list of what I wanted, and for him to pull it off in the hour Gracie and I were in the furniture warehouse is actually quite impressive, considering traffic alone probably accounted for more than half of his time.

  Gracie and I settle in to the backseat of the car as we head out of SoHo and back toward the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

  “Thank you for your help,” I say softly, resting my hand on Gracie’s thigh.

  She turns and looks at me but doesn’t respond. I see her trepidation, her fears, her concern. This was too personal for her. She thinks she’s leaving in six days and picking out furniture for our home—or, to her, my home—was too much for her. “Your opinion matters to me.” I give her thigh a gentle squeeze.

  “I don’t know why,” she answers quietly in return. There isn’t that edge of sarcasm or snark in her tone that’s normally there; her voice actually sounds pained. “This is for your home, Drew, not mine.”

  I swallow hard, ignoring her statement, but I can’t ignore the emotion in her eyes and how they suddenly turn pink and misty.

  “You matter to me,” I respond to her, holding her gaze. “You’re important to me.” I need her to know I’m not going to let her go easily. I’ve never fallen for anyone as quickly and as intensely, and I plan to show her just how much she means to me. As her emotions build and become even more visible, I whisper, “Talk to me.” I run my hand up her thigh until I reach her hand before sliding her fingers into mine and holding them tightly.

  She shakes her head slowly from side-to-side and I see her swallow hard.

  “Please, Gracie.” I try to be patient, to be who she needs me to be in the moment, but I want her so fucking badly to know she can count on me. Maybe she couldn’t count on other people in her past, other men, but dammit if I won’t use every last breath in my body convincing her that she can count on me.

  In defiance, and without a word, she shifts away from me and looks out her window, but I won’t release her hand. She can try to pull away from me all she wants, but I won’t let her go. An uneasy silence fills the car and we sit in the uneasiness until Tony announces our arrival at our destination.

  “Mr. McPherson,” he says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “We’re here.”

  Gracie’s gaze snaps from her window to mine. Plush, green grass and tall trees shadow the entrance to Central Park. Our driver pulled over just past Columbus Circle where there’s an entrance to the park. Gracie looks at me, confused, but I slide out of my door and offer her my hand to help her out. She accepts and slides out next to me.

  Tony pops the trunk and hands me two large brown paper bags with handles. Gracie looks at the bags, then at me, her confusion sinking deeper.

  “Ready?” I ask her.

  She takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising with tension. “What’s that?” she asks, glancing at the bags.

  “You’ll see.” I wink at her.

  Her shoulders fall and she sighs. “Everything is a surprise with you, isn’t it?”

  “I like surprises.” I pause. “And I like you. I like surprising you.”

  She drops her head and I see her fighting back a smile, a pleasant change from her emotional state in the car.

  “Come on.” I nudge her gently with my shoulder and we walk into Central Park. I carry both bags with my left hand and she holds my right as we wander further into the park. We find a nice grassy area under a large tree and I set the bags down. To our right, two men throw a Frisbee back and forth. Other people are congregated on the thick grass, enjoying an overcast New York City afternoon.

  In one of the bags, I find a large plaid blanket and spread it out on the grass before I unpack the other bag. I requested two salads, two sandwiches, a bottle of wine, and bottles of water. Tony went above and beyond, throwing in a dessert and a pasta salad. He’s good. Even remembered glasses and utensils.

  “What is this?” Gracie squeals, clasping her hands together in front of her chest.

  “What does it look like?” I ask, setting up everything on the blanket. I smile at the sound of excitement in her voice. Nothing makes me happier than seeing Gracie smile, to know that I might make her day a little brighter. Her happiness is my happiness.

  “A picnic! I haven’t done this since I was a kid,” she exclaims.

  “Then you’d be correct.” I grin. “Sit down.” I gesture to the blanket, where she sits and crosses her legs.

  Birds chirp in the tree above us and the sounds of laughter in the park has put me at ease. This is how I want our time to be spent. Relaxing and basking in each other’s company—comfortable and happy.

  “Pick a salad,” I tell her. “There’s shrimp Caesar and a chicken quinoa. There’s also a chicken salad sandwich or BLT.”

  The plastic containers are stacked in front of her and I can see her mind going a million miles an hour as she tries to decide. Thankfully, the wine has a twist-off top and I unscrew the cap and pour us each a glass of Pinot Grigio. I take a sip and do my best to hide my wince. It’s not Napa Pinot Grigio, but it’s also not the worst I’ve tasted. Just a little bitter.

  I hand her a glass of wine and she sets it in the grass, balancing it carefully in the long blades next to her just as she reaches for the Caesar salad and the BLT sandwich.

  “This is too much food,” she says, popping the plastic lid open that holds her sandwich. “But who can turn down bacon?” She shrugs, taking a bite of her sandwich, and I can’t help but laugh. “I tried to be a vegetarian once,” she mentions around a mouth full of food. “Then I remembered that I couldn’t eat bacon.” She covers her mouth with her hand before swallowing. “I was technically a vegetarian for four hours. Bacon ruined it for me.”

  I tip my head back and laugh, trying to picture it.

  “You can take anything away from me but bacon,” she says around a grin. “I just couldn’t live without it.”

  That’s how I feel about her. She’s my bacon. I laugh, shaking my head at that thought.

  “What’s so funny?” she asks.

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  “That’s how I feel about you.” It’s rare I’m so honest, but with Gracie, I can’t help myself. “You’re my bacon.”

  She sets her sandwich down and reaches for her glass of wine. “Drew,” she says quietly.

  “Gracie, listen,” I begin, cutting her off. “I’m not asking you for forever.” Not right now anyway. I can see myself spending every day for the rest of my life with her, but it’s too soon to tell her that. “Just give me more than six days. Give me a chance. Lean on me. Let me help you. We’re better as a team.”

  Her eyes are full of doubt. “How do you know?”

  “Because I can feel it here.” I pound my chest just over my heart. “I just know we are.”

  She traces the rim of the plastic wine glass with her finger and drops her eyes from mine to her hand.

>   I clear my throat, angry at myself for feeling choked up. I wanted this to be lighthearted—this picnic, us here, together. “I know we’ve known each other for only a couple of days, but this is… different.” That’s the only word I can use in hopes of not scaring her away. It is different. It’s comfortable…and safe, and I haven’t felt like this about anyone in a long time, especially someone I’ve just met.

  She drops her head and sighs. “I need to figure out my mess on my own.”

  My jaw tightens. “No, you don’t.”

  “Drew—”

  “Stop!” I cut her off again, my voice louder than I anticipated. I inhale and exhale, giving myself a moment. “I’m not going to take over and fix this for you, but let me help you figure out how you can fix this.”

  She bites her bottom lip and balls her fists in her lap. Before she has the opportunity to say no, I continue.

  “Just don’t limit our time together, Gracie. No end date. Let’s just take this day by day, okay? No expectations except that we’ll support each other. No pressure for more.”

  Her shoulders fall in defeat and I fight back a grin, not because she feels defeated, not because I won, but because I’ve gotten her to give us a chance.

  “Let’s enjoy our lunch and this weather,” I tell her, reaching for my glass of wine.

  She looks at me, and something crosses her face. Relief? Happiness? Both? She smiles and also reaches for her glass of wine.

  “To no end dates,” I tell her and hold my glass out toward her to toast our new arrangement.

  “To day by day,” she says in response and taps the rim of her glass to mine.

  It’s not exactly what I wanted, but I’ll fucking take it if it means Gracie will be by my side while we figure this out. Now it’s her smiling, and fuck if my heart doesn’t beat wildly in my chest in return.

  Over the next hour, we finish lunch, polishing off the wine. Then we lie on the blanket, her head on my chest as we look up at the sky. The sprinkling of clouds cleared and we’re left with a beautiful sunny New York City day. Warm enough to enjoy being outside, but cool enough to not be miserable.

  “I could do this every day,” she says quietly, running her hands gently over the blades of grass.

  “Me too,” I answer her, running my fingers through her long, soft hair. She turns her head to look at me and I can’t help but stare into her beautiful hazel eyes.

  “Thank you.” Her lips turn up at the corners slightly and I love that it’s close to a smile. It’s nice to see her at ease and not a bundle of stress.

  “For what?”

  “This.”

  I take it she means the relaxing afternoon. I push myself up to sitting, keeping her head resting in my lap. I bend over and lightly brush my lips over hers.

  “You’re welcome,” I say against her lips.

  * * *

  We spend the rest of the afternoon walking through the park, renting a boat and floating through the lake. The view of New York City from a small row boat in the center of a lake in Central Park is something everyone needs to experience. I’ve never seen Gracie’s smile so large and so genuine. I may have snapped an unsuspecting picture of her while she took in the views.

  Back at the Four Seasons, I see Gracie grab her large bag from the closet.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as she pulls clothes from the hangers and folds them carefully before putting them in her bag.

  “It’s Monday night and I’m going home. I have to work tomorrow.” She looks up at me and smiles that mischievous smile I’ve become all too familiar with.

  I let out a long sigh. “It’s Monday night, we’re going to have dinner here before going to bed, and I have to work tomorrow too.” I meet her at the entrance to the closet and take the bag from her hands.

  She sighs loudly in return and reaches for her bag. “You don’t get to make every decision for me,” she says stubbornly as we tug the bag back and forth between us.

  “I know this,” I tell her, tugging the bag a bit harder and out of her grasp.

  “Drew!” she warns, reaching for the bag that I hide behind my back. “Give me my bag.”

  “Stay with me. We’re going to the same place tomorrow,” I remind her. “It just makes sense you stay here and we go to work together.”

  She snorts. Loudly. “Yeah, that’s going to go over really well. You bought our company on Friday, I bedded you over the weekend, and we show up hand-in-hand on Tuesday? Can you even imagine what that would look like, let alone what people will say?”

  “Quite honestly, Gracie, I don’t give a fuck. I began bedding you before I bought the company, not knowing that you were an employee of said company. Our relationship started before my ownership.”

  “You don’t understand.” She closes her eyes, as if losing patience with me. “I need this job. I need the support of my co-workers to help me be successful. If they know we’re…” She pauses. “…doing this, they’re going to lose all respect for me.”

  “There is nothing wrong with this,” I promise, trying not to sound irritated. “We’ll keep it out of the office if that makes you more comfortable.”

  “It will make me more comfortable to go home tonight, sleep in my own bed, and show up at the office on my own tomorrow morning.”

  Now I’m the one sighing in defeat. “Fine.” My tone is short and childish. I have to accept her feelings and honor them. While I don’t like it because I want her here with me tonight, I have to remember this is a partnership; we both give and we both take. She wins tonight. Begrudgingly, I hand her the bag and she takes it, never pulling her eyes away from me.

  “Thank you,” she says sweetly and continues to put her clothes in the bag.

  “But I’ll be escorting you home,” I insist.

  She shakes her head in disapproval. “I can take the train, Drew. I do it all the time.”

  “Not anymore,” I muster through gritted teeth. I surrendered when she wanted to go home. I’m not bending on this.

  She zips her bag, dropping it to her feet as she steps over it and wraps her arms around my waist, pulling me into a hug. Burying her face in my neck, she squeezes me tightly. A hug I can’t help but savor. I wrap my arms around her, holding her just as tightly in return.

  She presses a soft kiss to my lips, then reaches up to rub my dimple. Her finger traces the small crease and she smiles.

  “You come back here tomorrow night,” I tell her. It’s not a question, it’s a demand. I pull her closer to me, already missing her.

  “Wednesday night,” she mumbles against my chest.

  Gracie’s stubbornness is going to be the damn death of me.

  Twelve

  As Tony pulls up to my building, I reach for the door handle, but Drew reaches across me, stopping me before pulling my hand into his.

  “Stay with me tonight,” he pleads.

  This man is incorrigible and frustrating, and so goddamn sweet, my heart flutters in my chest, but I can’t. I won’t. I need tonight to clear my head. I need to be by myself for a few hours to settle into everything that’s happened over the last five days.

  “Drew,” I let out a longsuffering sigh, “we’re at my place. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow.” I lean in and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

  He exhales and presses his forehead to mine. “You’re right. One night apart won’t kill us. But you’re staying with me tomorrow night.” He flashes that mischievous grin of his at me. He’s right, one night won’t kill us, and honestly, with how fast everything is happening, I need the space.

  “We’ll see,” I tell him and wrangle my hand out of his grasp. As I open the door and slide out, I feel Drew right behind me. “Stay here; I’ll be fine,” I tell him, but he shakes his head.

  Tony pops the trunk of the Town Car and Drew grabs my bag, slamming the trunk closed when he’s done. “The only way I’m leaving you tonight is if I walk you to your door and I know you’re safely inside.” He carries my bag in
his right hand and grabs my hand possessively with his left. “Lead the way,” he urges me.

  “Do I need to remind you I’ve lived here for two years, I go out all the time, and surprise,” I wave my hands in the air in mock surprise, “I’m still alive!” He rolls his eyes at me and I fumble with my keys when I get to the main doors. No doorman here to greet us, only the scent of a musty one-hundred-and-ten-year-old building. We walk the narrow stairs, Drew following closely behind me because we wouldn’t fit side-by-side up the staircase. When we get to my apartment door, I slide my key into the old door and shove it open.

  With a loud squeak, the door opens into my small kitchen and I reach for the light switch on the wall. A dull yellow light fills the small dated space. “Thanks for walking me up,” I say, turning to Drew.

  His eyes scan the kitchen, the small living room, and trail over to my bedroom as if he’s looking for something before he nods at me. “You’re welcome,” he answers, pulling me into his arms and into a hug. “I don’t like you staying here, Gracie.”

  “I’ve lived here for almost two years,” I remind him. “It’s my home, and I’m safe here.”

  He sighs in frustration.

  “Plus, the Four Seasons is so stuffy.” I shudder in mock annoyance. He rolls his eyes at me and I let out a little laugh. “Now go!” I nudge him toward the door. “I want to take a shower and crawl into bed and read.”

  “You can do that with me at the stuffy Four Seasons.” I continue shoving him toward the door and over the threshold right out into the hallway.

  “I can’t imagine you leaving me alone long enough to read,” I tell him.

  “Touché,” he says with a wicked grin.

  We stand, taking each other in. Our first night apart since we met. “See you tomorrow, Mr. McPherson,” I whisper.

  His wicked smile turns sweet. “Goodnight, Ms. Morgan.”

  I close the door and lock the deadbolt. It takes a minute before I hear his heavy footsteps descending the creaky old staircase. I pad across the small living room and push aside one of the thrift store curtains to see Drew jogging to the waiting Town Car. Before he gets inside, he turns and looks up at the building and spies me in the window. He smiles before ducking into the car. I watch the black car drive away, the red tail lights fading into the sea of other cars traveling down my street.