Ripper(43)

I sat up in bed and shook my head at the thought of it. I was a loner. I liked being alone. Except that now I had to accept the fact that it wasn’t preference that kept me alone. It was fear and habit. I’d pulled back so harshly after that night when I was sixteen that I’d convinced myself I didn’t need anything from a man but a quick, occasional lay. I trusted Gray on a fundamental level and I didn’t really know him.

I had to consider something I never had before. Maybe this was what they meant by finding “the one.” Maybe there actually was a “one.” I liked Gray. I really liked Gray—like super liked, maybe-one-day-would-think-about-the-other-four-letter-L-word like.

I grinned goofily and then forced the dippy smile off my face. Liv would be beside herself at the thought of me even thinking the words true and love in the same sentence. Which I wasn’t, but even thinking I liked a guy was kind of a big freaking deal.

Of course my potential soul mate wasn’t here now. I touched the indentation in the bed where his body had lain against mine. I didn’t remember it, but I instinctively knew it was true. Gray would have cuddled me, pulling me into his arms. He might have been somewhat happy I was unconscious and unable to fight him, but I was going to prove less stubborn than he imagined. The night before had been enough to make me rethink the whole playing hard to get thing. Life was really freaking short and you never know when some weird magician/witch is going to try to kill you by running some crazy test that ends with horse tranqs.

Oh, I wasn’t saying anything yet about love or commitment. I was still too wary to put myself out there like that, but I hadn’t felt this way about anyone before and it felt good. If Gray really wanted a partner, I was willing to give it all a try. Liv was right. It was far past time to move forward. What had Dan said to me? He told me he’d embraced possibilities and he’d seemed ridiculously happy to have done so. Was I really so less deserving? Stretched out in the warmth of Gray’s bed, smelling the glorious evidence of bacon frying, I had to wonder if I didn’t deserve a little happiness.

I didn’t bother with my clothes from the night before. At some point in time, Gray had undressed me and slipped one of his T-shirts over my head. It hung to my knees and covered everything I needed it to. More than that, it was comfy and I liked being comfy. I got out of bed and let my bare feet find the hardwood floors. I wandered into the bathroom. Gray hadn’t been kidding about his family’s money. Most of my house could fit in his bathroom, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t been forced to buy his sinks and faucets when Lowe’s had a sale. And that tub…I was already thinking about what we could do in that tub. It was built for two or more.

I cleaned up and then went looking for Gray. I crept almost silently through the house that seemed far too big for one person. It was elegantly decorated, but it didn’t seem much like Gray. It had been done in tasteful neutrals and I figured a designer had furnished this place.

Except for the den. I walked through the small room that was obviously used for entertainment and I smiled. Everything else about the house was designed with a nod to exquisite taste, but this room was all about comfort. There was a large screen TV that dominated the room and a big leather couch with a La-Z-Boy. I could see Gray there yelling at a Cowboys game on a Sunday afternoon, beer in one hand.

“I’m in the kitchen, sweetheart,” I heard him yell across the house.

“Okay,” I said more to myself than him because he shouldn’t have been able to hear me. Demonic hearing is pretty sharp. I shrugged and followed the sound of his voice.

The kitchen was as well designed as the rest of the house. The cabinets were a deep rich cherry and the countertops were marble. Gray worked efficiently over a top-of-the-line stove. Pancakes were already stacked neatly on the small breakfast table. There was a carafe of orange juice and two place settings. It was intimate and I realized I had zero experience with relationships. I had never in my twenty-six years had breakfast with a man. I hadn’t really slept with one either, not in the sleeping close, arms wrapped around each other sense. What the hell was I doing here? I asked myself with a sense of panic.

“Drink some coffee,” Gray ordered with a knowing frown. “It’s only breakfast. It’s not an engagement ring.”

But that would come if Gray had his way. He thought we would get married and fulfill his little psychic flash. I couldn’t see myself in a fluffy white dress walking down the aisle of a church.

Gray laughed and I saw the utter ridiculousness of my panic. I didn’t care what his vision said. I had control of whether or not I got married. This was just breakfast and I was freaking hungry. I took a drink of coffee and forced myself to relax. “Sorry. I’ve never done the whole breakfast thing with a man before.”