Page 37

T wo weeks had passed and no phone call, no text…nothing from Harlow. Grayson had started dozens of texts to her over the past seven days, then had deleted them all. She’d told him up front how it was going to be. He’d just thought things had changed.

The Feds had confirmed that the gun from Pressley’s safe had been the one used to kill George Pickens. Although Delgado had been the one to commit the murder, it had been at the direction of Pressley. Delgado was talking, hoping to cut a deal, and it seemed the man knew all Pressley’s secrets, even things Harlow hadn’t been aware of. At the prosecutor’s urging, the judge had refused to set bail for both men. Pressley would never be free again. She was finally rid of her ex, and Grayson had hoped knowing that would bring her back to him. Guess not.

Damn, he missed her. There was an ache in his chest that refused to go away. Was that love? He didn’t know. Maybe not yet, but he’d been getting there. He put his feet on the railing and stared at the ocean. Since he’d walked away from her, he’d vacillated between just showing up at her door versus honoring their agreement.

Maybe she needed him to show her that he wanted more, or maybe she was happy that she hadn’t heard from him. He’d never been an indecisive man, and he didn’t like being one now. It was just that every time he wrote a text or picked up the phone to call her, he hesitated. If he only knew what she wanted.

His gaze settled on a woman and a little boy walking down the beach. They were too far away to see their features, but he could tell the woman was laughing as the boy played the age-old game children loved… don’t let the water touch my toes .

Would Tyler love the beach? Would he laugh when the water touched his toes? Grayson swallowed past the lump in his throat. How many times during the past two weeks had he imagined Harlow and Tyler here, playing on his beach?

Answer: about every second of every minute of every hour of every day. He wanted to stop watching the woman and boy because watching them hurt for what he couldn’t have, but he was unable to tear his gaze away.

As the woman and the boy drew closer, Grayson’s breath caught in his throat, and his heart skipped a beat and then another. He dropped his feet to the floor, stood and squinted his eyes against the bright sun. Hope ballooned in his chest. Was it her? If it was, and that she was here, it had to mean she wanted to see him.

When they were close enough to see their faces, time stopped, the crash of the waves against the shore ceased, and the only thing he heard was the pounding of his heart in his ears.

It was her.

And she smiled at him.

Suddenly, all was right in his world.

He jogged down the steps, and she laughed when he almost fell on his face because he missed the last step. He’d gladly do a face-plant if it meant hearing that laugh. He grinned. Damn, his heart was going to beat itself right out of his chest and land at her feet. He’d beg her to keep it because it belonged to her. Now and always.

Double damn, he was in love.

“Hi,” he breathed when he stopped a few feet from her. Please don’t let me be misinterpreting why you’re here.

“Hi,” she said with a shy smile.

“Richie, I came to play with you,” Tyler yelled.

“You did?” He tore his eyes away from the most beautiful woman on the planet and squatted. He did not want to be Richie to this boy. “That makes me very happy. But you want to know a secret?” When Tyler nodded, he said, “Richie was just a pretend name. My real name is Grayson. But my friends call me Gray.”

“Can I call you Gray?”

“Well, that depends. Are you my friend?”

That got a vigorous nod.

“Then Gray it is.” If things went the way he hoped, he’d be a father to this boy, and he almost fell on his ass at the idea of being a dad. Him, a father. Who would’ve thought? He lifted his gaze to Harlow. She looked down at him with love shining in her eyes. His heart, already half out of his chest, finished the job and gave itself to her, lock, stock and barrel.

No regrets about that. Not a one.

* * *

After an afternoon of playing in the ocean, which had included paddling Tyler around on the surfboard, he’d conked out on them. Grayson was glad they’d worn the boy out as he and Harlow needed to talk. Something they hadn’t been able to do with Tyler around. After tucking him into bed in the guest room, Grayson took Harlow’s hand and led her to the living room.

“You know I’m going to make a surfer out of him, right?” He pulled her down to the sofa with him.

She rolled her eyes. “I figured that out about five minutes after he was on the board. He loved every minute of it.”

“But did you figure out how hard it was to keep my hands off you the moment you walked out in that bikini?”

“Oh, I thought your fingers brushing across my bottom was an accident.”

He laughed. “Yeah, no.” He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist. “I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you walking up the beach, that I wanted it to be you so badly that I was putting your face on a stranger. I thought I’d lost you.”

She threaded her fingers around his. “I had it in my mind that Tyler would need one hundred percent of me after being left with his father for so long, but it’s like he’s already adjusted to the change and more than happy with it.”

“Kids are pretty resilient. I’m guessing he’s happy because he’s with his mother now.”

“He is. He told me he doesn’t ever want to live in his father’s house again. Then he started asking when you were going to come play with him. It’s been Richie this and Richie that. ‘Richie read me to sleep’ and ‘Richie took care of me when I was sick.’ Thank you for that.”

“He’s a great kid.” But that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about. “What about us? Is there an us ?” Yes was the only word he wanted to hear. Needed to.

“I’m hoping so. When you left…” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them and lifting her gaze to his. “When I made you leave, you took my heart with you.”

“Only fair since you stole mine. And just so you know, I’m not giving yours back.” Best day of his life. This morn ing, he’d thought he’d lost her, and now it turned out that he was luckiest man in the world.

She smiled. “Good, because I’m falling in love with you.”

What could he do to that but kiss her? Slow and deep, showing her that he was falling, too. He was where he belonged—right here, right now—with her.