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“Um, it is looking that way,” I smirk. “Shit.” I stop in my tracks again, only this time Grey’s eyes are bright with mirth as he turns to look at me as I stare over at Stanley who is pulling some bags out of his expensive-looking black truck outside the house.
“Don’t make me carry you over there,” Grey warns. “Again.”
“Oh God, what must he think of me after last night?”
“He’s not the judgmental type.”
He tugs at my hand and I walk against my will as Stanley closes the trunk, smiling widely as we approach.
“Probably thinks I’m the kind of braindead simpleton you usually attract,” I mutter, reliving the excruciating embarrassment of being carried into Grey’s house like some feckless woman won in a caveman competition, as Grey leads me down a path towards the small house that Stanley must live in on the grounds.
“I highly doubt that.”
I inhale a deep breath and attempt a relaxed smile.
“Good morning, Stanley,” says Grey smoothly.
“Good morning, sir. And Indigo. It’s nice to see you upright today.”
My lips part in incredulity as my mortified gaze staggers up to Grey who is staring down at the floor, stifling a smile.
“Um, well, I do usually manage to make it into buildings on my own two feet,” I respond to his smile of appreciation.
“Well, I have no doubt that Greyson will remedy that in the coming weeks,” he responds and I spot Grey’s smile widen as I stay frozen to the spot, unsure what to make of this kind and respectable-looking middle-aged man who clearly has quite the sense of humor, only I can’t tell if he’s roasting me or both of us.
Grey glances to the side at me, smiling at my bewildered expression. I mean, this is the point at which I’d usually start giving someone attitude, but between the Tweed jacket, the sensible grey flat cap and the worldly-wise demeanor and relaxed eye contact, I’m slightly flummoxed as to how to respond.
“I… I’m sure he’ll try,” I finally respond clumsily.
“I’ve just come back from getting you two a few things,” Stanley says, lifting his bags. “Greyson told me he thinks you might be a vegetarian, Indigo.”
“Um, no. I… I mean, I try my best. I avoid dairy, but I eat some fish and I occasionally crack and have a hamburger or a chocolate bar. So, plant-based, I guess. As much as I can.”
“Well, I've brought some food you might enjoy.”
My eyes stagger to Grey, not sure what to make of any of this Lord of the Manor weirdness. “Well, thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies warmly, turning to Grey. “Janet will be around shortly to drop off the other items you texted me about. I’ll sort it all out for you.”
“Thank you, Stanley. Can you leave them in the kitchen?”
“Will do.”
“We’re off for a walk,” says Grey, his fingers still threaded between mine. “I’m going to show Indigo the grounds.”
“Well, you two enjoy yourselves.”
I manage a smile as Grey walks me back down the path towards his garden. It stuns me for a second how ridiculously strong his grip is, and how safe it feels when he holds my hand like this, doubly so for I’m swathed in a large cream woolen sweater of his that drowns me and leaves only the lower half of my leggings and my shoes visible. I washed my panties in the sink upstairs after breakfast and hung them up, hoping they’ll dry by the time I have to go back home.
The thought of going back alone leaves me hollow for a moment, conscious despite Grey’s grip on my hand that our relationship is destined to shatter like a pane of glass in a tornado. It might not come today, tomorrow or even this week, but it’s coming. I can feel it.
And yet I’m making the stupid decision to walk beside him right now, only I’m not sure if it’s a decision exactly, for my body hungers for this man like for nothing else.
“God, that was mortifying,” I groan.
“Stan’s a big boy,” Grey replies. “Not easily shockable.”
“I can tell. Is he used to you carrying women into that house like some time-travelling homo erectus?”
