Page 41 of Endeavor
“Take what you need, Emma,” he growls as his kisses leave my mouth and trail down my neck.
I’m nearly there, and then I hear it, people walking toward us. I jump away from Grady like I’ve been electrocuted. A moment later an older couple comes around the bend. They say hello and smile as they continue walking past us.
Grady’s eyes don’t leave mine. We both stand there, panting. I’m about to make some joke, something to lighten this intensity, but he steps forward cupping my face in his hands. “We will finish this somewhere more private.”
“Grady, I-I…” I stumble over my words.
His eyes are still locked on mine and I feel like our souls are as interlaced as our tongues were a moment ago. “Just kissing, Emma, I just want to kiss you tonight. Fuck the rules, fuck the doubts. I just want to kiss you.”
I nod slowly. “OK,” I agree, the words barely louder than my breath.
“Good, now let’s get back to the car. Dinner awaits.” He grabs my hand and begins to pull me along.
“Wait, what awaits?”
“You’ll see.”
Chapter Seventeen
Holy fucking shit. To say I am surprised to end up at Blythe’s house again is an understatement, but this, I was not expecting.
Her deck is covered in small twinkle lights. A professional chef is setting out dinner on a table, hurricane glasses with candles in them grace the center. Grady pulls out a chair and motions with his hand for me to sit. I oblige.
I’m speechless. I literally can’t find the words. He opens the other bottle of wine he bought earlier and pours us each a glass, before taking the seat next to me. The table has been arranged so both our chairs are facing the ocean. And as my eyes focus on the horizon, I am very aware of why, the sky is lit by oranges, reds, and purples as the sun slowly sinks on the horizon. It’s as though nature has provided a private color display just for us.
“To a lovely day,” Grady says, holding up his glass.
I clink mine against his and take a sip. “You win.”
“I win?” he restates in confusion.
“This day…you planned the perfect day. You win.”
He laughs and his hand comes to rest on my thigh.
“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” I ask him as I look at our meal. It’s scallops and risotto, and it looks perfect.
He looks over at me. “I promise, you’re my first.”
I blush and his hand reaches up to caress my cheek again. I lean into his touch.
“I love it when you blush.”
I blush deeper. “I can’t help it, pale skin.”
His hand skims my neck before going back to my leg. “Perfect skin.”
I’m pretty sure if any more blood goes to my cheeks, they might turn purple.
“Let’s eat,” he murmurs as he reaches for his fork. I do the same.
“What if I’m allergic to shellfish?” I tease.
He pauses, fork midway to his mouth. “Oh shit,” he mutters.
I giggle. “Just kidding.”
His hand on my thigh grips it firmly, and he leans over. “You’ll pay for that later,” he promises in a low seductive voice, and I shiver.
