Dylan kisses the back of her shoulder. “So, don’t, pretty girl. Don’t go.”
Harrison runs a palm down her side. “Stay here.”
Lennon strokes her hair with slow, steady fingers like he’s writing a love letter without ink. “Let us keep you, Gracie.”
We hold her. Breathe her in.
And let her belong to us for as long as she can.
36
LENNON
“No, Mom. Of course I didn’t tell them,” Grace says.
I pause in the hallway outside the tack room when Grace’s voice carries through the half-open door. I’m supposed to check the ledger for next week’s feed delivery, but Grace is hiding out here on the phone, and she’s pacing.
“Because I don’t want a fuss. You know I hate that.”
There’s a beat of silence, long enough that I imagine her mom is lecturing her.
“I don’t need a birthday party,” Grace adds. “Seriously. I’ll go for a ride in the morning and work on my edits in the afternoon. It’s just another day.”
Another pause.
“Yeah. I miss you, too. But it’s good here… like a vacation. And I haven’t finished the article yet.”
She laughs.
“They’ve got me working, don’t you worry, but it doesn’t feel like graft when you’re building something for family.”
Another pause.
“I know I’m not family, Mom. For their family. Look,I’ve got to go. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”
She ends the call with a quiet sigh that sounds lonely, if you’re listening close.
And I am.
She steps out of the tack room seconds later, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, startled when she sees me there. She covers it fast by flashing that easy, scarlet smile.
“Hey,” she says. “Didn’t know anyone else was around.”
“Grabbing the inventory,” I reply, lifting the clipboard. Looking at her makes my body flush hot. Reaching out, I take her hand and pull her close. She’s so much smaller than me, but the strength of her body is still clear in my mind, and how well she took us all, over and over. “You feeling okay?”
Grace nods, dragging her bottom lip through her teeth as she blushes. “A little sore, but it’s all good.”
“Me, too,” I smile. “That’s what happens when there are four men in a barn. The drive to one-up each other is real.”
She grins shyly. “No need for competition when you work so well as a team.”
I bend to press a chaste kiss to her lips. “I still taste you,” I say as I draw back, and the flush develops into a full-scale blush.
“I still taste you.”
I wink. “Better than strawberry sundaes.”
She laughs, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand. “You sure about that?”
