Page 60

one year later

Jillian

I should have known Graham was up to something.

The devilish grin when he told me to lean over the deck railing to look at our tomato plants should have been the first indication Graham had something up his sleeve.

Or in his pocket, rather—it took him all of three seconds to pull out the leather handcuffs and fasten one around my left wrist. I spent the next three seconds reacting to his trickery, giving him ample time to loop the chain connecting the two cuffs around the deck railing and secure the second cuff to my other wrist.

His body pressed firmly against my back, trapping me against the railing. All I could do was gasp his name as he tightened the second leather cuff, the Velcro just snug enough that I couldn't wriggle free. “Graham! We're supposed to be heading out for dinner.”

He held onto my hips, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “Yeah, and then you put on that sundress and teased me.”

“It’s just a dress,” I said innocently, turning my head so our mouths were aligned.

But we both knew that wasn’t true. This was no WWTV dress.

With its thin straps and snug black fabric clinging to my hips, I wore it just because I knew how he’d react.

Maybe I was the one with the devious plan tonight.

But I’d never let him know that.

“And I’m just a man,” he whispered, his lips hovering just over mine. Talk about being a tease. This agonizing almost-kiss was driving me crazy, and I got the feeling he knew that.

“The Gardners might see us,” I said, glancing at our neighbors’ house.

“They’re not home,” he said, his bottom lip just grazing mine. Was he lying? How did he know if they were home or not? I had to admit, it was pretty quiet, other than the sound of the lawn sprinklers and someone mowing a few yards over. The privacy fence concealed us from any prying eyes.

Graham’s hand cupped the back of my head, and finally, he brought his mouth to mine. With my hands restrained, I couldn’t grab him back like I wanted. But, like always, the total lack of control thrilled me. Whatever happened next was entirely up to him.

“Just say the word, and I’ll let you free and we can go to dinner now,” he whispered against my lips.

I shook my head.

He tugged away and positioned himself behind me, running his hands along my curves.

His fingers slipped beneath the hem of my dress, inching it up slowly until it bunched around my hips.

And then, with that same gentle authority he always carried in the bedroom, he hooked his fingers into my black panties and slid them down.

He held me steady as I stepped out of them, both of us laughing as they dropped off the side of the deck into the rose bushes below.

The laughter faded quickly as he pressed his chest against my back, one hand splayed on my stomach, the other sliding between my thighs from behind. He didn’t waste any time. His fingers found me already wet and aching for him.

“Spread your legs for me,” he said, and I did as he instructed, parting my thighs so he could dip one finger inside of me. “That’s my girl.”

He slid a second finger in beside the first, using his thumb to massage circles around my clit. My hands clenched around the railing, the cuffs tugging tight as I arched back into him. My whole body pulsed around his fingers, my heels wobbling under me, my breath coming out in broken gasps.

“I’m getting close,” I panted.

And then he pulled his hand away.

A sound of protest escaped my lips, but before I could say more, he gripped my ass in both hands and gave it a firm squeeze. “Not yet. Bend over for me.”

I tried, but the pressure on my elbows from the railing had already started to burn. I winced as I shifted. Just that slight change in angle sent a bolt of discomfort up my arms, and it was just enough to pull me out of the moment.

Over the past year, I’d become better at recognizing my fibro triggers. I knew if I spent any more time bent over this wood railing, I’d be feeling it all the way through dinner.

“Hey,” I said gently, glancing back over my shoulder. “I want to keep going, but this isn’t working. My elbows…”

Concern flickered on Graham’s face. He leaned in, kissed the back of my neck, and whispered, “Thank you for telling me.”

Then, without hesitation, he reached for the cuffs and unfastened them. My arms dropped to my sides, relief already washing through my joints.

But the hungry way he looked at me let me know this wasn’t over.

He gripped my wrist and guided me down the deck stairs to the corner of the yard where the hammock hung between two posts. His Father’s Day present from the kids.

Graham sat first, legs spread wide, and tugged me onto his lap, my knees on either side of him, my dress still bunched around my hips.

“Better?” he asked, his hands gripping my thighs.

I touched his face, letting my thumb graze along the edge of his jaw. He’d been growing a short beard this summer—just when I thought he couldn’t get any sexier. “Much better,” I answered.

“Good.” Graham swallowed. “Ride me.”

And that’s just what I did. I freed him from his pants and slid over him, sighing his name as he filled me inch by inch.

I moved slowly, savoring it, with my knees planted on either side of his thighs.

The fabric of the hammock was warm beneath my knees.

My hands braced on his shoulders, and I began to move faster, watching him tilt his head back with his mouth open.

All the noises of the neighborhood faded into the background—the loud birds, the distant mower, and those damn sprinklers. But all I could focus on was him.

“Fuck, Jill,” he said, tilting his head forward to lock eyes with mine as I rode him. I clenched around him at the desperation in his voice. He thrusted up into me, matching my rhythm with his jaw tight and his brow furrowed.

I was already teetering on the edge. My eyes fluttered shut as I leaned back slightly, letting him take over.

And he knew exactly what to do to get me to the finish line.

With a gasp, my entire body trembled as I dug my nails into his shoulders.

And just seconds later, Graham let out a guttural groan, squeezing my thighs even harder as his hips twitched upward once more.

He buried his face against my neck, holding me there, both of us breathless.

I felt the tension ease from his body as his hands loosened their grip on my legs.

I kissed his sweaty lips, and then he pulled back so he could see my eyes.

I still couldn’t get used to this, the way he stared at me like I was too good to be true.

And I loved reminding him I was the lucky one.

“Do you even know how cute you are?”

He let out a weak chuckle. “Yeah, I’m real cute with my post-coital gasping for air and sweatiness.”

“You’re always cute,” I said with a laugh.

Minutes later, we went upstairs to get cleaned up… again. We were nearly out the door when Graham remembered my panties were in the rosebushes. He retrieved them for me, putting them in his pocket.

“What’d you do that for?”

“Don’t know. Might need them later,” he said with a shrug, holding the front door open for me with a wink.

I just shook my head at him, smiling as I crossed the threshold. He yawned as he locked the door behind us. “Honey,” I said, “do you want to stay in tonight? You’ve had a long week.”

He’d spent the last few days covering a corrupt county clerk in a neighboring town, and the investigation had taken a lot out of him.

His week had been full of early mornings, arguments with courthouse employees, and constant back-and-forth with his team in Indy.

I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to get take-out instead.

“No, but let’s bring dessert home and finish Ginny & Georgia . ”

I had to stop and laugh—Graham initially claimed to have zero interest in the show, but I caught him watching entire episodes over my shoulder from behind the couch. Eventually, he accepted that it was “our show” and wouldn’t let me watch it without him.

A car door closed in the street, and we both looked up at the same time to see Olivia stepping out of the passenger seat of Richie’s car. Graham turned to me with wide eyes, and I gave him a menacing grin before breaking into a run.

“I get him first!”

“Like hell you do.”

Because of my heels, I was stuck on the sidewalk while Graham jogged down the sloped lawn like it was nothing. So unfair. Without thinking twice, I kicked off my shoes and sprinted after him through the grass behind him. “Nice try, old man,” I muttered when I caught up.

“Oh my God, you guys are acting like he’s a celebrity,” Olivia muttered, shaking her head at Richie over the top of the car. He smiled in amusement, adjusting his sunglasses.

I reached the car door first. Graham put his hands on my waist from behind to yank me backwards, making me shriek with laughter. I loved this little game we played every single time Olivia and Richie came over with Theo.

We didn’t get to see them as often as we liked. Once Olivia had the baby, I think everyone realized schlepping all of their stuff back and forth between houses didn’t make a lot of sense. They spent the majority of their time at Andrea’s.

We occasionally kept Theo overnight so the two of them could get some sleep, and Graham decided to make Sunday dinners together a regular thing.

Sometimes we cooked, and sometimes we went out.

All that mattered was that we were together.

And, in actuality, it only meant that family time was more valuable.

We saw Caleb every weekend now, too. So far, this arrangement worked for everyone.

“Listen, listen,” Richie said, putting his arm between us like a referee. “If I recall correctly, Graham held him first when we visited Sunday. I think it’s Jill’s turn.”

I stuck my tongue out at Graham, who rolled his eyes with a grin. He’d get his turn soon enough. When Olivia opened the back door of the car, I didn’t wait for permission. I was already reaching in with both arms.

“Where’s my sweet boy?” I asked in my usual over-the-top baby talk voice , unbuckling the car seat straps before I lifted him out. His pacifier fell out of his mouth on the way up. “Look at that smile! Mimi Jill's missed you.”

His body was warm and heavy against mine, his chubby cheek resting on my collarbone like he missed me, too.

I sniffed his dark hair like I always did—he smelled like a mixture of baby lotion, his mom’s perfume, and spit-up.

Graham reached around my shoulder for Theo’s hand, making some ridiculous faces at him.

“What are you two doing here, anyway?” he asked, glancing at Olivia.

She and Richie exchanged awkward glances. “We just wanted to see what you guys were up to.”

Graham raised a skeptical eyebrow at both of them. “That’s obviously a lie.”

Olivia sighed, her shoulders sinking in defeat. “Fine. We were going to ask if you wanted to take Theo for a couple hours so we could stop by a party.”

“What kind of party?”

Richie put a hand on Graham’s shoulder. “Just a low-key pool party thing at Sasha’s. Her parents will be there. Nothing crazy."

Olivia bent over to get the pacifier from Theo’s carseat. “I’m not even putting on a swimsuit. I just want to see my friends.”

Graham’s skepticism didn’t fade, but how much trouble could they get into in just a couple of hours?

“I’ve got an idea,” I said, adjusting Theo against my chest. “Join us for dinner at Moretti’s first, and then go to your party.

How’s that sound?” I turned toward Graham—that question was for him.

This meant Ginny & Georgia would have to wait, but if I knew Graham, he’d choose time with Theo over literally anything else.

He exhaled slowly just as Theo let out a soft coo in my arms and tightened his little fist around his grandpa’s finger. “I guess that’s alright.”

Olivia thanked him with a side hug, and then I helped her get Theo back into his carseat. Behind me, I overheard Richie mumble, “You, uh, got somethin’ hanging out of your pocket there, Dad. Might wanna tuck that in before we walk into the restaurant.”

I could have died.

I glanced up at Graham’s equally horrified face as he quickly pushed my panties further into his pocket.

“You guys are frea-ky,” Richie whispered with a sly grin. Graham shot him a you’d-better-shut-the-hell-up look. Olivia was too distracted with Theo’s whimpering in the backseat to hear any of this exchange outside the car.

Thank God.

We decided to ride with them to the restaurant, with Graham sliding into the middle seat next to his grandson. Theo cooed at him the entire way, kicking his little bare feet like he was putting on a show just for his grandpa.

(Or Graham-pa , as he insisted it was spelled.)

I sat on the other side, admiring the crinkles in the corners of Graham’s eyes as he talked to Theo.

He’d always been a gentle man, but this baby brought out a level of softness in him I’d never witnessed before.

He was so in love with this tiny human that it spilled out of him, and he had no idea how attractive that made him.

No idea I watched him in moments like this and almost forgot how to breathe.

And he had no idea I knew he’d been shopping for a diamond ring.

He and Meghan thought they were so sneaky, conspiring to find out my ring size and my preferred setting style.

And then there was the way he ignored a call the other day, saying it was probably spam, but I saw the name of a local jeweler flash across the screen before he flipped his phone over.

I’d still let him surprise me.

But when the moment came, and he asked the question, I already knew what my answer would be.