She barked out laughter before pushing Tank back and opening her door. “No thanks.”
He slid out of the SUV, jogging around the back and stepping in front of her before she could get to the sidewalk. “Wait.”
“I’m tired, I have a headache, and I just want to go home. Please,” she said.
He resisted the urge to cup her face and rub a thumb across what he knew would be silky-soft skin. Instead, he stared at the dark circles under her bloodshot eyes and the way her curvy body trembled.
“Please, Gideon,” she said. “Just let me go home.”
“You said the last time you had a decent sleep was in my bed. It won’t hurt to try lying down for a while,” he said.
A weird look crossed her face. “Oh yeah? Because I seem to remember you threatening to spank me if you found me uninvited in your bed again.”
He willed his dick to behave. Now was not the time to think about how a naked Grace would look draped over his lap with her perfect ass right there and waiting to be spanked.
“I’m inviting you,” he said.
She laughed tiredly. “Still gonna pass.”
She went to move around him, and he did something he tried incredibly hard to never do. He touched her.
She went stock still, staring at the way his fingers clasped her wrist loosely. Her pulse picked up, he could feel it beating beneath his fingertips, and he said in a low voice, “Please, Gracie. You need sleep. Just try it for me. All right?”
She sucked in a breath, a bit of colour tinging the paleness of her cheeks, before she nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
Relief flooded through him. He dropped her wrist instead of taking her hand like he wanted to. “Good, come in the house.”
* * *
For the second time in a month, she was in Gideon’s bedroom. It looked exactly the same, neat and tidy but with an unmade bed. She swallowed the weird giggles that were threatening to come out. Why it would amuse her so much that Gideon, neat freak extraordinaire, didn’t make his bed, she didn’t know. Maybe because it was so out of character, so unexpected.
“Here, you can wear this to sleep in.” Gideon came out of the walk-in closet, carrying a plain grey t-shirt.
She almost blurted out that she slept naked before coming to her senses. The fact that Gideon was even letting her sleep in his bed again was a goddamn miracle. He was so… skittish about the idea of them in any kind of sexual situation, that he’d probably immediately rescind his offer to give up his bed for her if she mentioned she’d be naked.
“Thank you.” She took the shirt. “Where are you going to sleep? Your couch isn’t long enough for you to sleep on.”
“In the spare bedroom.”
She blinked sluggishly at him. “Your spare bedroom is a home gym.”
“The other bedroom,” he said. “I have a bed in it.”
Right. Gideon lived in a three-bedroom house. God, she was tired.
Gideon glanced at his watch. It was only eight, but he’d led her straight to his bedroom and she hadn’t protested. Forgetting that she had no desire to sit with Gideon and make small talk, she was stupidly anxious to give this a try. She knew it wouldn’t work, that day a month ago was a freak occurrence, just her brain finally waving the white flag, but that didn’t stop her from hoping it would work.
“If you need anything in the night, just…”
“Just what?” she said.
A dull flush covered his cheeks and he headed for the door. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
She waited until the door closed before stripping off her clothes and pulling Gideon’s shirt over her head. It smelled like laundry soap, but she fancied she could smell a hint of Gideon in it. She hurried over to his bed, dropping her cell phone on the nightstand before climbing into bed and curling up on her side. She pulled the sheet and quilt to her chin. She sank her head into the pillow, buried her face in it, and breathed deeply. The pillow did smell like him, and she sighed happily and closed her eyes.
God, Gideon’s bed was so comfortable. The mattress wasn’t too soft or too firm, his pillow was the perfect density, the sheets were soft, and the quilt was nice and heavy. She inhaled into his pillow again, letting Gideon’s scent fill her lungs.
She would ask him where he bought his mattress and his pillow. Maybe even the sheets. Maybe if she could recreate Gideon’s bed in her room, she’d actually sleep. Maybe there was a chance that she wouldn’t go insane from lack of sleep.
Shh, Gracie. Go to sleep.
She yawned. Her eyelids were incredibly heavy, and the headache had retreated enough to ignore. Her body was liquid, sinking into the perfect mattress. She hoped she fell asleep soon. She was so damn tired.
Sleep now, Gracie.
She smiled as she drifted, the buzzing of her brain fading until it was a quiet hum. Yes, sleep. Sleep was good. She would sleep and when she woke, Gideon would be there, and she would tell him how much she loved him. How happy and safe and content he made her.
She burrowed deeper into the bed and slept.
* * *
She was dreaming about a day already past. A dream tinged with both sorrow and joy. Sorrow because it was one of the worst days of Gideon’s life. Joy because it became one of the best of hers. She watched with both grief and anticipation as her dream self approached Gideon.
“Gideon?” She touched his shoulder as he stared out the window into the darkness. Back then, she hadn’t been afraid to touch him, hadn’t needed to worry that it would push them even further apart.
“How is she?”
“She’s sleeping.” She stood next to him and rested her hand on his back. “She’s exhausted. It’s been a long day for her.”
“Burying your parents takes a lot out of a person.” His voice was hollow and coloured with such heartbreaking grief that it took her breath away.
“Honey, look at me,” she said.
He continued to stare into the darkness. “Kira isn’t doing well, Grace. I’ve never seen her so lost, so… fragile.”
“It will take time to heal,” Grace said. “You’ve been through a terrible tragedy and it takes time to recover.”
“What if she doesn’t?” His face was grave in the dim light of the lamp. “What if she gets worse?”
“If that happens, we’ll help her,” Grace said.
“I’m too far away. I should never have moved to New Cassel. I should never have left her or them.”
“Honey,” she reached up and cupped his face, turning his head with gentle pressure until he was looking at her, “you needed to live your life. Your parents were so happy for you and the life you were building. Don’t second guess the decisions you’ve made.”
“I didn’t come home enough.” His voice was hoarse, his eyes rimmed with red. “I was so busy working that I didn’t come home. Mom was always asking me to come home on the weekends and I rarely did. I disappointed her.”
“You didn’t.” She squeezed his jaw. “She and your dad were so proud of you, honey. They talked about you all the time. Your dad told everyone he met about his son the police officer. About how you were going to be the youngest officer in the force to make detective. About how he always knew you were something special.”