The Unidentified Redhead (Redhead #1)(71)
Author: Alice Clayton

I walked back into the living room where Jack was sitting on one of my big fluffy couches, and I launched myself at him. He caught me midair, laughing as I pawed at his chest like a big cat.

“I got rid of them, as promised,” I chirped, settling into his lap.

“You sure did,” he agreed, kissing my forehead.

“So, now what?” I asked, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“Well, what do you want to do?” he asked back, snuggling me closer to him.

“Uhmmm, get naked and have sex in my new house?” I offered, looking brightly at him.

“Hell yes, let’s get after it.” He laughed, picking me up and walking me toward my bedroom.

My new bed had been delivered, but I had yet to pick out sheets or anything. Still, it would be nice to christen the new pad. Which is why I was so surprised when we walked in the room and I saw that someone, probably the Brit currently holding me and looking at me expectantly, had appointed the bed quite nicely. Soft white sheets, blankets, a duvet and tons of pillows dressed the California King, and were thoughtfully turned down. There was even candy on the pillows, hotel style.

“Candy!” I exclaimed, bringing a chuckle from the Brit.

I also noticed my overnight bag, alongside my white Polo shirt on the chair by the window next to his bag. I looked at him in surprise.

“I thought it might be nice to spend at least one night in your new house,” he said shyly, looking at me for approval.

“George?”

“Yes?”

“I freaking love you,” I squealed, throwing my arms around his neck.

“I love you too, Gracie,” he answered and carried me into the room.

After the crazy love was through, we lay in bed. It was very late, although technically it was very early. I don’t think either one of us wanted to go to sleep.

We were next to each other, on our sides, sharing the same pillow. I gazed at him, this man who had taken over my heart completely. I took in everything, memorizing the way his lashes swept down low to almost graze his cheeks. The strong lines of his face, the cheekbones, the jaw line, the nose. The sexy stubble.

The sweet soft lips that were currently pulled back in that perfect smile that still made my heart beat faster when I saw it.

The curls. I remembered the way they looked that day on the way to the beach, the blond glinting in the sun. And the eyes, the green perfection. They were locked on mine, staring at me in quiet reflection. I guessed that he was cataloging my features as well, the way his eyes were poring over me.

In the span of mere weeks, Jack Hamilton had turned my world upside down. He made me feel things I hadn’t felt in years, and I was grateful to him for it. I had gone through years of quiet hell, and I had all but forgotten what it felt like to be revered so. I forgot what it felt like to be loved, which is why I think I fought this so long. He loved me thoroughly and completely, and while there was a part of me that was still looking over my shoulder to see who he was really looking at, I was coming to understand it.

I loved him that way in return. I loved him as hard as I could. The bubble we had existed in for weeks was now about to burst, but I was not as nervous as I had been to see what it was like outside that bubble.

Because this was real life. And in real life, you are tested, simple as that.

We’d be tested, and we’d have to see how we did. There were still issues to be resolved, but I was now steadfast in my determination that we’d resolve them together. That was what grownups did … and how funny that this twenty-four-year-old guy reminded me of that distinction. I was the one with the grownup mortgage, but the guy with the messy apartment taught me this.

He also taught me how to love my body again. Post-pudge Grace certainly had enjoyed the last year’s sexual freedom after such a long drought, but it was his absolute devotion to bringing me pleasure that made me love my body, flaws and all. I still saw them, but the fact that he adored me so made me grateful for how strong I truly was.

And come on, the guy had practically built an altar to my cle**age. This tended to make a girl feel pretty good about herself.

I continued to stare at him, marveling still at how lucky I was to have him, and I realized, with a start, that he was lucky to have me, too. For whatever reason, he needed me as I needed him. And that was it.

He was the yin to my yang, the frick to my frack, the toast to my Chex.

We had never stood a chance trying to fight this—for me he was the one.

I reached out to scratch his head and he moved closer to me, the gazing over. I cradled him to me and he stroked my br**sts, nudging his head into the crook between my neck and my shoulder and wrapping his other arm around me, underneath me. He couldn’t get close enough.

“God, I’m going to miss you so much, Grace,” he whispered, his voice low.

I kissed his forehead, soothing him.

“I know, love, me too,” I answered back.

“We’ll be fine, right?” he asked. He was the one that needed assurance now.

I gave it to him.

“Yes, Jack, we’ll be fine,” I crooned, rocking him slightly. He let his breath out in a long shaky sigh.

“Is it terrible that there is a tiny part of me that wants your show to suck, so you can come home in just a few weeks?” he asked honestly, showing me his heart.

“It’s not terrible.” I chuckled softly, touched by his question. I knew without a doubt that he wanted this success for me as much as I did.

We were both quiet for a moment then, our breathing in harmony as I felt his chest rise and fall. He continued his worship of my br**sts, his hands soothing me now. This was not sexual in nature. This was simple pleasure for us both.

“I love you, Grace,” he whispered, suddenly pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.

“I love you, Jack,” I answered, wrapping my legs around him to get as close as possible.

Our bodies said what we could not bear to say, responding without apology to their true partners. He kissed me, I kissed him back, and without another word, he slipped inside of me. We moved together quietly, peacefully, elegantly.

There was a tenderness in this night, a silent, sweet goodbye. As our bodies rose and fell in unison, our eyes both filled with tears.

We sighed deeply as we came together, the union complete. He collapsed onto me, and I hugged him tightly, keeping him inside as long as I could. There was nothing that could keep me from loving him. We lay awake all night, neither one of us wanting to close our eyes.

We spent the night talking quietly, laughing and swearing, giggling and promising. When it finally became light enough that I could no longer pretend it was night, we began to make our way out of the bed and into some clothes.