AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Grace slid onto the sofa beside Dory and nodded. “Bluebell.”
“That’s some kind of handle,” he chuckled, though his laughter slowly died as their gazes locked. There was heat there—and it was intense.
“It is,” she managed to say. “It was my great-great-grandmother’s name. What’s yours?”
His mouth thinned a bit, that beautiful smile fading as his gaze slid from hers. “Benjamin.”
“Oh,” she replied. “Were you named after someone as well?”
He gave a quick nod and got to his feet, placing the puppy back with Rosie. “I’ve got some stuff to do,” he said gruffly, and left without another word. Just like that, all the warmth in the room was sucked away and Grace shivered.
She looked at Dory, noting concern in the woman’s eyes. “Who was Benjamin?”
Dory picked at the edge of her sleeve and settled back on the sofa, shaking her head slowly. She didn’t speak until they both heard the front door slam shut, and then she whispered. “Benjamin is Matt’s father.”
Grace couldn’t help but wonder. “Is he still alive?”
“As far as I know, he is.”
She was going to take a stab in the dark. “I take it they don’t get along?”
Dory was silent for a few seconds. “Matt’s story is for him to tell and I have a feeling few people know the details. Hopefully he comes around and shares it with you, because if anyone needs a connection, it’s that young man.” Dory shook her head, her face resigned. “But please don’t think less of him if he doesn’t. Some things are just too hard.”
The older woman didn’t offer up any more information and with a sigh, Grace reached for a board game on the table beside her. “Scrabble?” she asked lightly.
It was going to be a long night.
10
The storm finally let up sometime in the night. Matt had spent most of it nursing a bottle of Jack, while freezing his ass off in the barn. Stupid really. After all this time the mere mention of his name, Benjamin, could take him back to a place he didn’t want to think about.
It took a lot to make him forget, most of the bottle judging by what was left, and by the time Matt made his way back to the house, it was pushing three in the morning. He was tired as hell and more than just a little drunk. In fact, if he wasn’t such a big guy, he probably would have passed out hours ago.
As it was, he stumbled through the dark to check on Rosie and her pups. He was about to flop his ass onto the sofa, when something made him look twice and he noticed Dory. She’d
fallen asleep there and he scooped another blanket off the pile on the floor and draped it over the older woman.
Electricity had returned a few hours ago, and he made sure the fire was out before heading up to his room. All he could think about was his bed, his pillow, and finally getting some shut eye. Damn Jack. His buddy never failed to knock him on his ass.
He kicked off his boots, not caring that he’d just tracked snow all over the place, and then tossed his jeans, plaid shirt, and his boxers. The cold felt good against his heated skin and Matt stumbled in the dark to his bed, managing to stub his toe on the bedpost.
“Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely and yanked the covers back. He slid between them, immediately turning on his side and reaching for the other pillow.
But it wasn’t his pillow he found. His large hands slid across something soft—there was no denying that—and it sure as hell wasn’t cotton.
Grace?
Matt didn’t think. His brain had shut off a long time ago and he was on auto-pilot. He moved toward the warmth, and sank his nose into soft, silky hair that smelled like the honeysuckle his grandmother used to grow along her back porch.
He groaned and moved his hands around to the front of her body, but the very things he sought were covered. And impatient, he pushed aside clothing, fingers eagerly inching toward soft breasts and smooth, taut skin. Matt moved so that he pressed into her, his groin settled against her butt.
“Damn, but you feel good.” His brain was jumbled, his veins full of Jack, and at the moment Matt was content with the weight and warmth of another body in the night. He relaxed, snuggled into the curve of her back and as he listened to her even breathing, he eventually fell asleep.
* * *
IT WASN’T EXACTLY DARK out when Matt woke, but it wasn’t bright either. He was in that place somewhere between dawn and full-on morning. He’d never bothered with blinds and could see the faintest traces of light coming through the window into his room. Normally he’d jump straight out of bed as soon as he could, but at the moment he wasn’t that guy.
At the moment he was content to stay right where he was. In bed—no, in his bed—with Grace Simon. His eyes adjusted and he had no problems seeing her.
