Page 8 of Love Me Back (Diamond Creek #2)

Grayson

Watching Jessie move around my kitchen, searching through cabinets, felt right. It felt normal, like she was meant to be there.

Because she is.

“What are you looking for?”

“Coffee.” She opened another cabinet whispering, “ Yes ,” when she found the mugs. “And cups,” she added, taking two from the shelf and setting them on the counter by the coffeepot.

I could have told her the coffee was in the pantry, but I wanted to hold on to these few minutes. I wanted to imprint this scene on my brain so that when she was gone later, I could watch it over and over when I closed my eyes.

I’d heard the front door close in between the slamming of cabinet doors and knew my siblings had left us alone. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing would change my mind.

Jessie couldn’t stay here.

It wasn’t just about her seeing me at my worst. Completely dependent on everyone around me, unable to do anything for myself but wheel from one room to the other.

It also wasn’t safe.

Someone had taken a shot at me. Tried to kill me. Whether it was a member of the Death Dogs retaliating for Tyson killing the man in town, or whoever was killing women on my ranch, the fact remained: if Jessie stayed here, her life would be at risk.

I loved her too much to let anything happen to her. I loved her enough to let her go as long as she was safe.

It was bad enough I couldn’t get Addie to leave. But she had lived here her whole life. She grew up with us here to protect her, and my brothers would continue to protect her .

I couldn’t protect Jessie while I was in this fucking chair.

She’d found the coffee and quickly made a pot. I stared at her back while she stared at the coffee as it dripped into the carafe. I knew she was afraid to turn around. Afraid to face me.

“Jessie, you can’t stay.”

“I can. I have nothing else going on, and Ellie is busy with the baby—”

“Ellie had the baby?”

She still wouldn’t look at me, but she nodded and quietly said, “The day of your accident.”

That was why she was there. Not because my brothers had called her. She hadn’t dropped everything and run to my side. I had to remind myself that she didn’t love me.

“She named him Sebastian. After her brother.”

I focused on her. She had finally turned around to look at me. Her eyes wandered over me. My body tightened under her scrutiny, and the question of whether my dick still worked was finally answered.

Was the heat I saw in her gaze real or wishful thinking on my part? Either way, my dick noticed the way she ate me up. He wanted her attention just as much as I did. I turned away before she saw the relief on my face. I wasn’t completely useless.

But my legs still didn’t fucking work. I couldn’t run a ranch from behind a desk. Sure, many men had, but I wasn’t an asshole who expected my men to do things I wouldn’t.

I was too damn young to give up on working the ranch. I wanted to ride my fucking horse. I wanted to train the horses in my care. I couldn’t do that from a fucking wheelchair.

Jessie set the coffee on the table in front of me. I stared at it for a minute before I picked it up and threw it across the room. Pulling away from the table, I turned away from the look of shock on her face, and, as I rolled out of the room, I shouted, “Go home, Jessie.”

My hands grasped the wheels on my chair firmly as I pushed them forward, propelling myself down the hall.

I rolled into my bedroom and stopped. With my elbows on the armrests, I dropped my head into my hands.

I hated myself for the way I spoke to her, but I didn’t want her here.

I didn’t want her to do things for me. Things I should be able to do for myself.

Show me a man alive who wanted his woman to cater to him, and I would show you a boy. A man took care of his woman; he didn’t let her do the heavy lifting.

“I can’t even take out the fucking trash,” I growled.

“I am quite capable of taking out the trash.” My head snapped up, and I spun around. She was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. “And if I couldn’t, there are two, sometimes three other men who live here that can do it.”

“Jessie,” I sighed.

“Shut up, Grayson.” She took a step closer until she was standing in my room.

“I get it; you don’t want me here. But I can help you.

There is nothing between us. My helping you doesn’t make me pity you or see you as less of a man because you’re in that chair.

So get off your high fucking horse and accept that your life is different now.

It might always be different. When you’re ready to accept it, I will be in the kitchen. ”

She turned and walked away before I could tell her she was wrong. I did want her here. I wanted her so fucking much that seeing her in my kitchen took a piece of my soul. Why couldn’t she understand that I knew I wasn’t enough for her, especially now?

Hell, I wasn’t enough for her before the accident. If she didn’t want me when I was whole, why would she want me now?

“Hey, Gray, you need anything?” Emerson stood in the doorway; the look on his face said he might be afraid of my answer.

“I need a fucking shower.”

“Um, I’ll get Jessie,” he said, turning away.

“Emerson, get your ass in here!”

He peeked around the doorway and winced. “Come on, man, don’t you want her to see you naked? Show her what you’re packing, and she’ll swoon at your feet.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that? ”

He sighed loudly as he entered my room. Grabbing the chair, he wheeled me into the bathroom. When my great-grandparents built this house, they’d had the forethought to make it a bit oversized. None of us men were small, which meant we needed large furniture.

I’d helped Tyson move into the clubhouse when he was patched in and I was reminded how blessed we were that our doorways were wider than normal. It made getting around in the chair a little easier than it would be anywhere else.

“Help me undress to my boxers and then help me get in the shower. I can take it from there.”

“How?”

“What?” I asked as he kneeled in front of me to remove my boots.

“How are you gonna lift your ass and push your shorts down?”

“I’ll figure it out; just do as I said.”

Once my boots and socks were gone, I lifted my weight with my arms, and Emerson helped me remove my jeans.

When he lifted me from the chair, my body plastered against his as he moved me into the walk-in shower.

Another thing I was thankful for. I loved my brother, but I was fucking glad I’d left my boxers between us.

Sitting in the shower chair, I reached for the nozzle and quickly realized just how fucked I was.

“Em!” I shouted, knowing he was sitting on my bed waiting for me to get done.

“Yea?”

“I can’t reach the fucking nozzle,” I growled through gritted teeth.

He swept in and grabbed the nozzle off the holder and handed it to me.

I reached over and turned the hot water on and began to clean myself up.

Between trying to get my boxers off and washing up, Emerson came in twice more, once to get me the shampoo, and again to replace the nozzle and hand me a towel.

I stayed in the shower until I was completely dry. Then asked for a pair of sweats. Fuck the boxers and the jeans. If I had to be in this damn thing, I wanted to be comfortable. Plus, the sweats were easier to get off if I needed to take a piss.

“Put me on the bed.”

“No can do. Carson said we’re all eating together tonight. Even Pops is here.”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged. “First night home after you almost died, man. Family dinner.”

I groaned but relented. If whoever shot at me had a better aim, I probably would be dead. The least I could do was have dinner with my family. Family was everything, and I truly loved mine.

Until I wheeled into the kitchen and saw Jessie at the table next to the empty space where my chair used to sit.

“I told you to go home.”

“I don’t work for you,” she argued.

“You’re here to take care of me.”

Before she could answer, Pops smacked me on the back of the head. “Boy, I know your momma taught you better ‘an to be rude to a beautiful woman.”

“Ow, Pops.” I rubbed my head where his hand had made contact.

“That ain’t fuckin’ hurt. But next time I’ll make sure it does. Get on up to the table. Your sister made a fine meal, and listenin’ to yer whinin’ll turn it in my stomach. So if you ain’t got nothin’ nice to say, keep yer damn mouth shut.”

I looked at Jessie and felt the shame Pops aimed to invoke.

She didn’t smile in satisfaction the way Addie did, happy that someone had called me out on my shit.

She didn’t cough into her hand trying to hide her amusement the way Carson had.

And she wasn’t laughing outright like Hudson and Emerson, who took great joy in my disgrace.

She hadn’t even shaken her head in disappointment the way Tyson was. No, she sat in her chair, her back straight, staring straight ahead with no emotion on her face. Seeing her that way was ten times worse than any humiliation I might have endured.

I rolled up to the table next to her and whispered, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

“I understand.”

She didn’t accept my apology. It felt more like an acceptance of the way I treated her, and I finally realized how much of an asshole I was being. No matter how hard I’d tried in the past, she hadn’t given me what I wanted.

Namely her.

And now I was taking my frustration in her not wanting me and my anger at being stuck in this chair out on her. It wasn’t fair to her. She had done nothing wrong.

I hadn’t wanted to accept that she might not have the same feelings for me that I’d had for her. But I realize now I had to let that shit go. Find a way to bury my feelings and get past them.

It wasn’t fair of me to harbor feelings of anger and resentment at her lack of emotion toward my situation when she hadn’t reciprocated my feelings before the accident.

I refused to be one of those men who got angry at a woman because she wasn’t interested. This was my fucking problem, not hers.

“This is delicious, Addie.”

“Thank you, Jessie. I love cooking. This was my grandmother’s pot roast recipe. I could give you the recipe if you like?”

Jessie smiled, and it was so beautiful I had to turn away from her.

“Oh no, I can’t cook. Maybe give it to Ellie though. Or Ryder. I think he’s a better cook than she is. Just don’t tell her I said that.”

She chuckled at her own words, and the corners of my mouth turned up slightly. I loved that she got along with my sister. Addie needed a friend. She spent so much time on the ranch and at school that she didn’t have anyone but her brothers.

“Or I can call you on the nights I make pot roast and you can come to dinner,” Addie offered.

“Maybe,” Jessie answered, and I knew she really wanted to say no.

I had to give her something. Let her know I would stop being an asshole and let her help.

“What time will you be back in the morning, Jessie?” I asked.

She turned to me, and I saw the surprise on her face. I smiled at her, but my smile quickly dropped when Carson dropped his bomb.