Page 83 of The Ampersand Effect
Tobin laughed freely, her face rapt as she watched Grier spin with an absorbed gaze that Grier adored—mostly because it made her feel adored. She loved everything about Tobin’s reactions to her, especially the way her pupils dilated and the greens of her eyes seemed to make room for the sultry grays and browns to dance like an inferno within their depths.
“Good, because I think you’re gonna need it,” Tobin said. “It looks like the rain might be heavier than predicted. You sure you’re okay with this? Spring rains can turn on you fast.”
“Well, if we have to take cover to ride out a storm,” Grier teased, her voice dropping, “I can think of a few things to keep us entertained—alone, in a cave, in the middle of the forest.”
She winked, and the sound of Tobin’s inhale was sharp and immediate. Grier loved how easily her unfiltered flirtations caught Tobin off guard. Watching her swallow hard only fueled Grier’s delight. The villainous smile that spread across her face was entirely unrepentant as she imagined tracing a line of open-mouthed kisses down Tobin’s throat.
“I just need to grab my hydration pack, and then I’m ready. I thought we could walk to the trailhead from here—it’s only about half a mile away and makes for a good warm-up.”
“Sounds good.” Grier started past Tobin toward the house. “Mind if I fill my pack, too? I have a thing about warm water and want to make sure it’s ice cold for as lo—”
Tobin caught her wrist mid-stride, tugging her gently back. Grier moved on instinct, turning into Tobin’s body as if drawn by gravity. Tobin kissed her—firmly, but with the faintest hint of hesitation. Grier readily compensated, deepening it with a soft moan meant for both of them. She felt Tobin’s smile curve against her lips before she pulled away, leaving Grier thoroughly unsated.
“Sorry,” Tobin rasped. Her eyes searched Grier’s face—sharp with concern—dissecting her alive—looking for signs of regret.
“Tobin,” Grier said softly but with steady conviction, “don’t make a habit out of apologizing for kissing me.”
She stepped into her, nestling her nose against Tobin’s chest, breathing her in—inhaling her warmth and that intoxicating cologne.
“If you want it, take it.”
Her hand slid up the back of Tobin’s neck, leveraging her forward. Their mouths met again—this time with intention— abating the hunger that had been left smoldering from before in a deeper, more demanding kiss.
Grier released her and stepped back. Tobin looked positively giddy—her hair mussed from Grier’s touch, her lips a few shades darker. She hadn’t wanted to break the kiss, but she knew if she didn’t, she’d inevitably strike a match she couldn’t extinguish. She still wanted to respect their agreement to take things slow—if for no other reason than to give Tobin the space to decide Grier was worth delaying her timeline for.
Because Grier fully intended to fulfill every single one of her fantasies about Tobin—and she hoped to fulfill Tobin’s fantasies in return. It was just going to take a little more time than Tobin had implied. She could be patient. She just had to keep reminding herself how much she enjoyed playing with fire.
Grier could still feel the ghost of Tobin’s lips as they started down the road, the morning quiet settling around them. The silence between them wasn’t awkward—just charged. A few yards in, Tobin resumed their game ofTwenty Questions.“Strangest thing you believed as a kid. Go.”
Grier thought for a moment. She’d believed a lot of fairytale things as a child. The thought made her ache a little —how precocious Delta had become, already unable to suspenddisbelief or find magic in the world around her. She looked up to find Tobin watching, patiently waiting for an answer.
“I used to believe in gnomes. I spent a lot of time in the forest as a kid, with Grant and Grove. We’d wander through the woods until we found a hole in a tree we thought they might live in, then leave a gift and sit for hours, trying to catch them coming to the surface. Eventually, we’d give up and go home, and when we returned the next day, we’d find a tiny note and a piece of shaped glass to use as a magnifier—thanking us for the gift and encouraging us to keep believing in magic. And to behave.”
She laughed at her own innocence, recalling with fondness how her childhood shaped her ability to still believe in magical things like happy endings and—she hoped—true love.
Tobin stopped and stared at her, curiosity clear in her eyes. “My parents,” Grier said, answering the unspoken question before Tobin had to ask. “I still don’t know how they always found the exact spot each time, but they did. They kept the magic alive for us.”
Tobin’s eyes softened as they resumed their hike. “That’s incredibly sweet of them. Your family sounds close. I mean, I know you and Grant live together, so that’s obvious. And judging by the reticence with which Grove met me at your house, I can tell you’re fiercely protective of each other. But what about your parents?”
Grier warmed at Tobin’s gentle observation. She was inquisitive and perceptive, but never judgmental—regardless of what Grier shared.
“Yes, we’re very fortunate to be as close as we are. Grant and Grove and I—as you noticed—are fiercely protective of each other and very involved in each other’s lives. Our parents are retired now and travel frequently, but they come home often. We joke that it’s to see Delta, their only grandchild, but really, it’s to see all of us. We genuinely enjoy being together.”
She carefully stepped over a fallen branch blocking their path. “What about you? You and Harrow seem close. Are there more of you?”
Tobin vaulted easily over the branch before speaking. “Just Harrow, for siblings. We lost our dad when we were teenagers— cancer.” Her voice faltered, the words nearly catching in her throat. Grier could feel the palpable strain it took for Tobin to collect herself and continue. She understood, without words, that Tobin’s family shared the same fierce closeness as her own—just tempered by deeper loss.
“It was a pivotal time in my life,” Tobin continued softly.
“Harrow and I spent a lot of time with our grandparents at their cherry orchard. It destroyed our mom for a while, but she eventually came home to us. We have a great relationship now.”
Tobin’s voice grew tender as she spoke, more reverent with each detail. Grier listened in awe—captivated by the way Tobin described her family’s love, her parents’ devotion, her grandparents’ enduring marriage. It was obvious Tobin described their fairytale-like relationships as ones against which she graded her own.
As they walked side by side, Grier couldn’t quell the flood of romantic ideas pummeling her heart and mind, wondering if theirs could be the dream come true Tobin so clearly believed in. Regardless of where their relationship led, she sincerely hoped that Tobin would find her happily ever after.
As the terrain grew steeper, so did the intensity of their conversation. Tobin’s piloting career fascinated Grier, just as Grier’s own education seemed to impress Tobin. She shared the story of Nora, carefully suppressing the tears that threatened to spill, and explained why her brother’s no-longer-secret girlfriend had affected her so profoundly yesterday. Time seemed both suspended and accelerated as they hiked, fully immersed in each other and their words.
Grier was astonished when they reached a gorgeous, open clearing. Tobin stopped and loosened the chest straps of her pack. Gray clouds loomed ominously overhead—visible for the first time since they entered the forest. The dense forest canopy had obscured the sky and shielded them from the light drizzle that had begun to fall as they hiked.