“Of course. Are you sure I’m not overstaying my welcome? I mean, I do have a perfectly good apartment I can stay at.”
“No!” he barked, lifting his head.
Sierra blinked.
“Sorry,” he said with a small shake of his head. “I didn’t mean to be so…loud. And if you want to go stay at the apartment, I’ll pout, but I won’t stop you.”
“I feel weird because I made such a stink about wanting to be independent, to stand on my own two feet. And now here I am, happily shacking up with you every night. I haven’t even unpacked all my stuff.”
“You are standing on your own two feet,” Grover protested. “Cut yourself some slack. You’re figuring out what you want to do next, you’re making friends, and getting on with your life. Where does it say in the “what to do after escaping captivity” manual that you have to be by yourself while you figure everything out?”
Sierra wrinkled her nose. “I just don’t want you to think I’m using you in any way.”
“I don’t. Maybe I’m using you,” Grover said. “I mean, you did make dinner tonight. And I hear the washer going. I’m assuming you didn’t just put your stuff in there.”
“Whatever,” Sierra told him, rolling her eyes.
“Damn, I love that.”
“What? Me being obnoxious?”
Grover laughed. “If that was you being obnoxious, then I’ve got an easy sixty years ahead of me.”
Sierra blinked again, then smiled, charmed by the fact he thought about them being together so far in the future. Neither of them knew what tomorrow would bring, never mind sixty years from now, but she felt all gooey inside thinking about him wanting to be with her forever.
“Thank you, Bean.”
“For what?” she asked.
“When I walked in here, I was in a piss-poor mood. Have been all day. That militia group really got to me. But now I’m laughing and thinking about us being ninety years old and still teasing each other. And it’s because of you. So thank you for being here, for just being you.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied softly. “Go shower and change. Dinner’ll be ready when you get back down here.”
Grover leaned down and kissed her once more. “I’m thinking tonight we need to look at the stars from the couch in the loft out in the barn.”
Sierra could see the lust in his eyes, and just like that, her nipples got hard. Make love with Grover in the fresh air of his loft? She was totally up for that. “Sounds good,” she said as nonchalantly as she could.
Grover grinned mischievously as he backed toward the stairs. “I’m happy, Bean,” he told her as he went.
“That’s my line,” she complained, but returned his smile.
“Yup.” That was all he said before he turned around and headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Sierra stared after him for a beat, then returned to the kitchen to finish their dinner. She thought back to what she’d told Grover last night. That if she knew she’d end up here, happier than she could’ve ever thought possible, she would’ve gladly spent twice as much time in that mountain prison cell. She hadn’t lied. Being with him was worth any sacrifice. Everything wouldn’t always be sunshine and roses, but for now, she was going to hold on to her happiness with both hands. She knew better than anyone how quickly life could change.
She renewed her vow to live for the moment, and hopefully she’d have years and years of “moments” with Grover.
Starting tonight, with a new memory…making love to the man she treasured under the stars.
Knowing she was once again smiling like a crazy person, and not caring, she reached into the pantry for a couple cans of green beans. As she heard the water turn on in the upstairs shower, Sierra couldn’t help but close her eyes for a moment in gratitude. And for the first time, she understood a little of what Grover must have felt when he’d received her lost letter.
She’d do anything to keep this life. Even if it meant putting herself in danger. She’d do her part to keep this relationship happy and healthy.
Chapter Eighteen
Four days later, Grover was struggling to keep his bad mood from affecting his relationship with Sierra. He was well aware she didn’t want him to keep things from her, but the assholes in the Strong Foot Militia were pressing on his last nerve. It was as if they’d locked onto him, going out of their way to be especially nasty when he was on duty at the front gate.
Even Doc had noticed, commenting on how maybe he should talk to the commander and see if he could be excused from the extra shift.
But Grover didn’t want to do that. Didn’t want to leave his teammates to do the dirty work while he stayed back in the office. So he was sucking it up and doing his best to ignore the jibes and jeers they often yelled his way while he was helping at the front gate.
That meant by the time he got home in the afternoons, he wasn’t in a good mood. He hated being this way around Sierra. He did his best to be happy for her each day when she recounted the time she spent with the other women, but it was difficult. And it wasn’t as if she’d missed the fact that, just over a week into her move to Texas, Grover wasn’t one hundred percent present in their relationship.
They were currently lying in bed, and she’d just gotten done telling him all about her day spent with Riley and the kids. They’d gone to one of Logan’s baseball games, and he’d caught a flyball that had turned the tide for his team. They’d won eight to seven, and Logan had been extremely proud of himself, once again telling everyone who would listen that he was going to be a professional baseball player, an outfielder just like his idol, Shin-Soo Choo.
Grover had been nodding and smiling in what he thought were all the right places, but when Sierra lifted a leg and straddled his stomach to stare down at him, he knew he’d probably spaced on whatever it was she’d been saying.
“I hate seeing you like this,” she said softly.
“I hate being like this,” he admitted.
“Can’t the cops kick them out or something? It seems ridiculous that they’re still here after all this time. Still scaring people and yelling stupid shit.”
Grover shouldn’t have been surprised she knew exactly what was bothering him. “Technically, they aren’t doing anything illegal.”
“Harassment isn’t illegal?” she huffed.
“They’re very careful not to cross a line that would get them in actual trouble,” he told her.
Sierra lay down, flattening herself on his chest. She nuzzled the skin on the side of his neck as she mumbled, “Well, I hate them for how they’re making you feel. I know that not all soldiers are as honorable as you and your team, but painting everyone with a broad ‘all soldiers are killers’ brush just pisses me off.”
Not surprisingly, her compassion and understanding made Grover feel better. “Thanks, Bean.”
She nodded, and Grover sighed. They lay like that for several minutes, before she wiggled a bit and slid off him to lie at his side once again. One leg was still thrown over his, with an arm stretched across his chest.