Page 47 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)
Bella
BELLA
How is she?
you haven’t murdered her or anything, have you?
GRAYSON
your mom is right
she forced you to watch too many crime documentaries
BELLA
…
what are you guys talking about?
GRAYSON
everything and anything
did you really wet the bed until you were six?
BELLA
THAT IS A LIE
GRAYSON
don’t worry Blaze
your secret is safe with me
A day after getting back from the hospital, I’m sorting through my mother’s medication when there’s a ring at the doorbell. My mom, sitting up on the couch, just smiles over at me, and as I walk to the front door I realize it’s a knowing smile.
“What are you up to?” I call over my shoulder.
“Me? Nothing. I’m just watching my show.”
Though, as she turns back to her documentary, I note she doesn’t hit play.
Shaking my head in confusion, I open the front door, surprised to find Grayson standing there, bundled in a winter coat.
“Grayson? What are you doing here?”
His smile spreads, and it’s such a joyful one I can feel the corner of my lips wanting to tug up. His joy is always contagious.
I’m surprised he’s here, not only because he forced me to take the day off, but he was just here yesterday after insisting on driving me home from the hospital. “Did you leave something here?” I ask.
He shakes his head, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as a flush makes its way up his neck. How is this man sexy all the while being devilishly cute?
“I’ve actually got something for you.”
“For me?” I ask dubiously.
“Yes, Blaze. You.”
That damn name.
“It’s Bella,” I remind him for what feels like the thousandth time.
“Do you want to see what I have for you or not?” he teases.
“Why?” I can’t help but ask.
He rolls his eyes in exasperation, but there’s an edge of hilarity to it. “Humor me.”
Opening the door farther as the universal signal to step inside, I’m shocked when he doesn’t but instead moves to the side and comes back with a stack of boxes. With his arms ladened down, he steps past my gaping form to set them in the living room.
“W-what is all of that?” I stutter.
He grins. “Your present. ”
“It’s not my birthday. Or Christmas.”
“Doesn’t have to be.”
“Awe, Bella, that’s so kind of Grayson,” my mom coos from the sofa.
I point an accusatory finger at her. “You’re in on this, you little traitor.”
“I’m Switzerland,” she declares.
Grayson steps back inside with a smaller box under his arm and an envelope. Closing the front door, he shakes off his coat and passes me the envelope as he makes his way to my mom with the smaller box in hand.
Curiosity gets the better of me. Opening it, I find a handwritten note with Grayson’s distinctive messy handwriting.
Let’s see if you’re the only one who can make me landscape again.
The deal we made comes rushing to the forefront of my mind, and in turn, my head snaps up to the large boxes he moved into my living room.
Ignoring the hushed voices being passed back and forth between my mom and Grayson, I grab the closest box to me, a smaller one stacked atop a large one, though I’m suddenly terrified to open it. What if my assumption is right?
Taking a deep breath, I quickly open the lid, only for that deep breath to leave me in a rush. Nestled within, packaged so delicately I could cry, are paint brushes, sharpeners, pencils, and notebooks. And not just any art equipment, it’s all top of the line.
I’d let out a gasp—anything to indicate the whirlwind of shock thundering through my system in this moment—but I don’t think I’m capable of making sounds right now.
I feel like a robot, my body moving on autopilot to the next box as it tries to prove me wrong.
He wouldn’t drop thousands of dollars on me.
Why would he?
This arrangement is fake and, deal or not, it’s not like I’m going to turn around and drop thousands of gardening equipment on him. First of all, I can’t afford to, and secondly, something tells me he’d continue to return it until I grew tired .
I find that the large box I was scared to open is a full-sized easel.
The next is stacked high with every color of paint imaginable.
Another is filled with dozens of canvases in all different sizes.
And the next contains drawing pads.
Spinning on my heel, I find Grayson sitting on the couch with a small smile as he stares at me with a hint of…fear?
“This is too much.”
Definitely fear. It grows as the rush of words leave my lips. My mom’s scrolling on her phone, her attention solely on the device and not the way Grayson’s smile slowly falls.
“Did I get the wrong supplies?”
My eyes practically bug out of my head. “No, it’s… Grayson, it’s perfect, but it’s too perfect. I can’t accept it.”
His brows furrow as he slowly rises, moving around my mom to come and stand before me. I wish he hadn’t. Tipping my head back, I’m all too aware of how intoxicating he is.
“You want to return a gift because it’s too perfect? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“It’s too much,” I whisper.
“Too much…?”
“Are you going to make me spell it out?”
“Yes, pretend I’m illiterate and speak to me like a child, because I don’t see an issue.”
Sighing, I can feel my willpower on the topic leaking out of me as he flashes me a knowing grin, his lone dimple popping out. The deep blues of his eyes sparkling.
Why is he so handsome?
And why does his smile have to be so perfect?
“I can’t accept the gift because it’s inappropriate. You’re my employer.”
“If we’re going with that narrative then you should put in a formal complaint about that kiss.
” My eyes flare, his knowing grin spreading as he takes a small step farther into my space, his voice lowering to a husky drawl as he teases, “Tell me, Bella, do you want to put in a complaint about how I kissed you?”
“No,” I squeak, my hands shaking, forcing me to clench them into fists. Lifting my chin, I stand my ground. “Kiss or no kiss, this is inappropriate.”
“You’re my girlfriend—” He tsks me as I open my mouth to correct him.
“Fake or not, Bella, to the world you’re my girl and until that day ends, I will treat you as such.
” He takes another step forward, forcing me to lean back into the boxes.
“And if you were really mine, Bella, I would spoil you rotten because it’s what you deserve.
So we can either stand here and argue until you’re red in the face, or you can thank me.
” He winks. “I suggest going with the second option.”
Stunned.
The bastard has stunned me speechless.
He moves so close to my face his hot breath tumbles over my lips. “What’s it going to be, Blaze?”
My breath hitches.
There is something wrong with me.
My mother is sitting no less than two feet away and I feel like climbing this man like a tree and making out with him as I beg him to talk to me like that with our clothes off.
Swallowing to hide the heat that’s racing throughout my body, I keep my gaze locked on his as I whisper, “Thank you.”
He lowers his head, his lips brushing the shell of my ear and stealing my breath. “Good choice,” he whispers gutturally.
A squeal of happiness has me jumping away from him. My mom is kicking her feet, her eyes wide with such joy I rush to her side. “What is it? Is it Dr. Stewart? Is it good news?”
She waves me off, turning to Grayson a moment before she launches her frail body at him, squeezing the giant hockey player in a hug. He catches her effortlessly, embracing the hug as my mom’s shoulders begin to shake.
Is she crying?
Before I can ask what’s happening, she turns out of his embrace and faces me, tears streaming down her cheeks, a pair of headphones on her head. Despite the tears, her face is bright and full of a lightness I haven’t seen since my dad walked out.
“Grayson downloaded my thriller books I’ve been wanting to read on Audible. ”
My eyes move to him, the confidence he was oozing moments ago gone. His cheeks are now flushed, the shy boy I’m afraid I’m falling for standing behind my mother with such earnest sincerity I feel like my heart is melting into a puddle.
“Did you?” I ask.
He dips his head, and that’s when I realize I’m a fool for ever thinking he wouldn’t be able to handle this.
Pivoting back to my mom, I’m first baffled I never thought of it but endlessly grateful that Grayson found something to put so much love and happiness back in my mother’s heart. That he was the one that got rid of that dull, lifeless glaze that had begun to overpower her.
“You don’t have to watch any true crime movies anymore!” my mom squeals, but my jaw drops at her words.
“ That’s why we’ve been watching them? You missed your thriller books?”
She nods, her eyes growing wide as she points to her headphones. “They just found a body!” She sounds way too excited when saying it, causing Grayson and me to burst into a fit of laughter. She takes a seat, the world around her fading away as she listens to her book.
Facing Grayson, I point at him as I walk toward him until my fingers jab the hard ridges of his chest. “You, Mr. Crawford, just made two Stratford women very happy.”
The smile he gives me is downright devilish. “Let’s hope I can continue to do so.”
BELLA
I’m so screwed
LAYLA
I’ve been waiting for this text
are you coming out of the denial bubble?
BELLA
I refuse to
LAYLA
how long will you stay in there for?
BELLA
until it stops working
LAYLA
was it ever working?