Page 42 of Graciously His

“No,” I whisper, pulling my hands from his grip. “Please, I just need to lie down.”

A beat, then he nods. I try to step away but he follows, crowding me towards the bed.

“I’ll tuck you in, and you’ll sleep until dinner. Then we’ll have our evening together.”

I remember what he said about us negotiating our relationship tonight.

“Maybe I could just…” I take a breath, “sleep through?”

His countenance turns severe. “A depressed person would sleep through the evening and into the next day. You’re not allowed to become that person, Grace. So I’ll give you two hours, then you’ll get up.”

The nerve of him.

I try to get angry, to access even a measure of my earlier fury. All I feel is exhaustion.

“You have no idea what kind of person I am right now, Nate.”

“That,” he says, laying me down on the bed, “like everything else, is negotiable. Sleep now. One hour.”

He said two hours before, but I’m already sinking into sleep.

Chapter 19

Nate

Grace is asleep within seconds of lying down. I watch her breaths even out, her body relaxing slowly. I could stay here, watching the evening creep in, but I’ve got an app to check on, a dinner to put together, and a dog to walk. And not in that order. I press a kiss to my wife’s forehead and head outside, finding that Shep is already waiting for me on the deck.

He gives me a doggy grin and I ruffle his ears. “Let’s go, boy.”

We head to the woods encircling the northern portion of the property. There are well-worn paths where Mihirangi and her brothers ran wild when they were kids.

Shep puts his nose down, sniffing enthusiastically, while I call Dare for a catch-up. He confirms what I’ve been hoping for: the currency error is resolved, and most of our clients have already gotten over it. He tries to refuse the day’s profits as a bonus for his fast actions, but accepts when I point out that the take will be low, considering how badly the error hit our numbers. We put together a plan for smoothing the most ruffled feathers—a few big kickbacks to our biggest accounts should do it—then I tell Dare to get an early night. His diligence has covered everything I’ve missed throughout the last twenty-four hours, and both of us know it.

I ring off, admitting to myself that Nick would have arrived at this point of resolution earlier, and likely at a considerably smaller cost. It stings more than it should and I take a moment to miss my twin.

Shep comes loping back through the trees, whining at me.

“Yeah,” I say, accepting a clumsy cuddle, “it’s just about dinner time, eh?”

Pink streaks of oncoming sunset peek through the canopy above. New spring leaves have begun to unfurl. I breathe deep, making a note to show Grace these pathways soon. She might love her woods as much as she loves her beach.

I leave the ghost of my brother behind and take Shep back to the house. He gets dinner first, then I prep the steaks I defrosted earlier while a pot of rice simmers on the back burner. Our veggies will be from the same organic catering company as the soup I served for lunch. I’m determined to keep Grace’s food as low-allergen as possible; Nick kept reasonably fit, so I don’t think her diet was truly bad before, but I know how often her mother forced rubbish on her. ‘Sweets for her sweet’, which Grace no doubt felt obligated to eat, even if they hurt her. Thinking of Constance Fucking Reid is enough to make me grit my teeth.

I slow down and pour myself a finger of Scotch. The last thing I want going into this evening is misplaced anger corrupting my time with Grace. By rights, I should follow Eileen’s advice and go relax in the sauna; I know my own tension is causing inflammation in my body. Normally, I’d let heat and light bleed it from me, but I’ve got Grace to take care of.

I sip the Scotch and fry the steaks, Shep whining at my side until I kick him out of the kitchen. It’s tempting to refill my glass, but I don’t. Now that I have a wife, there are other ways to deal with stress—for both of us. I cover the steaks to let them rest, and set the table in the dining room.

Time to wake Grace. My stomach swoops pleasantly when I see her beneath the blankets, curled up tight in my bed. I savour the sight for a full minute before I sit down on the edge of the mattress. My hand goes to the dip of her waist—too thin.

I’m grateful all over again that she’s mine sooner than I expected. At what cost? part of me whispers, but I shake it off. I never wished Nick dead. I would have bided my time and taken her when the moment was right.

“Grace, my love.” I lean in to kiss her cheek. “Time for dinner.”

She replies with a murmur of nonsense, shifting towards me on the mattress. I smile, enjoying her half-awake sweetness.

“Still so sleepy.” I let my hand roam down her waist to the swell of her hip, then to her ass. It’s round, squeezable. “Dinner will get cold if you take too long. Come on, now.”

“N-nate?” she whispers, a question I answer with a kiss. She turns away with a distressed little sound, my lips landing on her ear. “I just want to sleep. Please.”