Page 72 of Paths
Grady looks to me when he finishes, his eyes searching my face, though for what, I’m not sure. But he does lift his arm up around my shoulders, settling it against the back of my chair.
He goes on. “It’s hard after traveling for so many years, but I’m getting settled. I think Maya is, too.”
I reach out for him, touching his thigh, hoping to communicate that I am.
Joe, who’s doing his best to redirect the focus of conversation away from us, continues. “I’m thinking about switching to Fermentation Sciences. I want to learn how to make beer without poisoning anyone.”
I look to Joe to see if he’s serious, and I honestly can’t tell. What I’m sure of, is my mother hasn’t heard a word he’s said. She’s too focused on her own agenda.
“Well, don’t get used to it,” my mother spouts. “Maya will eventually tire of spinning her wheels waiting tables and whatever else she’s doing.”
I straighten in my chair and turn to my mother. “I’ll have my Virginia license in a matter of weeks and I have a PT job lined up for the beginning of next year. I don’t plan on tiring of anything and I’m not coming back.”
“But I’ll also learn how to make cheese,” Joe adds. “You know, as a backup career.”
“Come back for a week.” Weston leans forward and speaks to me in a tone that surprises me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he almost sounded desperate. “Give me a week to make things right, Maya. Please.”
“Or, I could do both,” Joe raises his voice, vying for someone’s attention. “I’ll move to Wisconsin and open up a brewery. Beer and cheese curds. It’ll be a fermentation utopia.”
“They’ve been together since she was sixteen,” my mother says, looking straight at Grady. She waves a hand toward Grady and me as she continues. “You can’t give her the life she’s accustomed to. She’ll eventually get bored and come home. Whatever you think this is, you’re wrong. Maya got her feelings hurt, she’s licking her wounds, but eventually she’ll find her way, so don’t get too attached, Grady Cain.”
“Mother!” I exclaim.
“Vanessa,” my father warns from across the length of the table. “Watch yourself.”
My mother tips her head and scowls first at my father, then me. “You can’t be serious about him. You’ve known him, what? Weeks?”
“Months,” Grady corrects her.
“Whatever.” She throws him a dirty look before returning her glare to me. “It’s time to get over it and move on.”
“That’s it,” Grady declares.
Moving his arm from in back of my chair, he narrows his eyes at my mother and reaches in the breast pocket of his suit jacket. Deftly, a small velvet box appears, and quicker than naught, he flips it open with his thumb.
And I lose my breath.
What the hell?
“What is that?” I breathe, barely able to hear myself speak.
Grady says nothing, but reaches across my body for my left hand. He removes the round metal object with a really big, bright, sparkly thing on the top, and tosses the box haphazardly to the table.
I feel my breath quicken, not able to hide my reaction from what’s happening in front of me. I’m pretty sure he’s moving quickly and efficiently, but my brain is functioning in slow motion.
It’s a ring.
Why does he have a ring, and why is it aimed at my hand?
Holy shit, it’s a really beautiful ring.
From somewhere outside of my head, I hear my ex-fiancé growl, “What the fuck?”
But I can’t give that any mind space, because Grady is sliding that beautiful, shiny piece of metal that circles to infinity on my left ring finger. When it slides all the way to the base, miraculously fitting perfectly, his thumb brushes the side of it right when I feel a hand at my face.
When he lifts my chin to look into his eyes, his expression is possessive and hot. When he dips his face, his lips touch mine—demanding and warm. It’s the most perfect kiss he’s ever given me, and there have been plenty.
He pulls away hesitantly, his tongue reaching out to taste me quickly before I open my eyes to find him looking contentedly down at me. “You’ll let me take care of you?”
