He chuckled. “Nope, but I think I can take a page out of Charlie’s book and change my mind. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I remember.”
Charlie’s jaw dropped, her little eyes growing about ten sizesbigger than usual. “You’re not tearing any pages out of any of my books, Daddy. I love them.”
Grady held up his hands. “It’s an expression, sunshine. Just means you’re being courageous, so I think I can be, too.”
Maybe, I could be, too.
cleo
. . .
18 Years Old
Butterflies dancedin my stomach as I heard a knock on the front door. Looking out the window, I saw a familiar, faded orange truck in the driveway. “I’ll get it,” I muttered as my mom put down her spatula. It was hard not to miss the knowing look she shared with my dad, but I didn’t care. I rounded the corner to the entryway, glancing down and smoothing the wrinkles from my dress before sucking in a breath and opening the door.
Grady stood on the threshold holding a massive bouquet of flowers in his arms. They were all different shades of blue and cream, with an occasional pop of golden yellow. His smile widened when he took in my dress, even more so as his gaze dipped to the short hem and my long legs on display. “Bluebird,” he said, leaning in to give me a chaste kiss. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” I whispered, stepping aside to let him in.
It was dramatic, I knew that, but I really had missed him. It felt like we’d hardly had a moment alone the past two weeks. We were both getting ready to leave for college on Sunday, soour parents were holding onto their time with us a little more than usual. Plus, Grady had spent nearly every day working as much as he could since he hadn’t had a chance to find a part-time job in Austin yet.
Mom and Dad decided to turn our weekly dinner into a celebration for Grady and me. Usually, Friday nights were strictly family. Every now and then, one of them would ask me to invite Grady over, but it didn’t happen often. When they made the suggestion, I jumped at the chance. It felt right having everyone together.
“Oh, sweetie, you look beautiful!” his mom, Marsha, called, coming up behind him with her arms laden with sweets.
“Here, let me help!” I said, stepping forward to grab the pie pan in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other.
She smiled, tossing her head back toward her son and husband behind her. “I don’t trust either of them with all these goods. I already had to smack Robert because I found him sneaking a cookie before we left.”
Robert frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not my fault they’re so good. You said you were going to make a batch for the house, too.”
Marsha turned around, mouth agape. “I did, and you ate them all before we left the house!”
“Did I hear someone say cookies?” my dad asked, coming around and rubbing his belly. “I do love cookies.”
“And it shows!” Mom called from the kitchen. “Now, y’all help that poor woman in this house so she can have a drink.”
My mom was a fan of all things sweet and was a great baker, but she didn’t have the patience Grady’s mom had. Marsha Wilde and I had first bonded over our love of sweets. The first time I met her, she was busy in the kitchen making a batch of dark chocolate croissants entirely from scratch. When I asked her for the recipe, she told me to wash my hands and grab an apron off the hook so she could show me how.
Ever since, she would invite me over when she found a recipe she wanted to try. I was always much more nervous than she was, never wanting to make a mistake, but she waved me off and told me that was half the fun of baking.
I still wasn’t sure if I felt the same way, but failing didn’t seem so bad when we did it together. Sometimes, Grady would even help, although he was incredibly hopeless in the kitchen.
Grady took my hand as our moms giggled and our dads disappeared into the garage for a couple of beers. He tilted his head toward the living room, tugging me around the corner and out of sight from our parents.
The moment we were alone, Grady’s lips were on mine. He pressed my body into the wall, hands roaming until they settled on my hips. It took every bit of effort I had not to moan at the urgency in his touch.
True to our word, Grady and I had remained abstinent. I mean, we weren’t chaste by any means—we definitely did other things, but we hadn’t gonethereyet. It was extremely dramatic, but sometimes I felt like I might die waiting for it to happen. No matter how many times we kissed until our lips were swollen or lay in each other’s arms, drunk on lust, nothing had filled the ache left behind.
“You’re killing me, bluebird. It should be illegal to wear a dress like that in front of our parents when I can’t do a damn thing about it.” His voice was heady as he pressed his groin into mine. The pressure was almost too much. “I’m gonna have to recite baseball teams or something so I don’t get a hard-on in front of everyone.”
I could relate, although my need wasn’t as obvious to those around us as his was. Grady would know, though. He would notice every time I squeezed my thighs together or shifted in my seat. For some reason, that only made it hotter. Like it was a secret only the two of us shared.
His lips trailed down my neck, and I smiled. “I wore it for you. I knew how much you liked it,” I confessed.
“I can’t wait until we can finally be alone,” he whispered, pulling back and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “I can’t wait for?—”
“Cleo and Grady, sittin’ in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G—” Josie and Lennox peered around the corner, giggling and smiling as Grady and I jumped apart. Their smiles fell as I narrowed my eyes in their direction, and they took off back toward our parents.
