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The Perfect Stroke(57)

By:Jordan Marie


“We got this,” I correct her, giving her a gentle kiss on her lips. “I thought it would be harder to talk you into having dinner with them. It means a lot that you…”

“Wait. What are you talking about? Why would I be having dinner with them? It’s a business dinner. There’s no reason for me to be there.”

“There’s every reason. I want you there. Hell, Cooper, I need you there.”

“Gray, I don’t get along with those kind of people. If there’s anything our time together has taught us, it’s that.”

“Bullshit. We’re a team, CC. You and me against them all.”

“Gray…”

“I need you, CC.”

She closes her eyes, and guilt hits me. I know she’s given up a lot to come with me. I know this is hard for her. I’m a second away from telling her it’s okay when she surprises me.

“Okay, fine,” she says.

Elation strums through me. “You mean it?” I ask, sounding like a little kid.

“Yeah. I mean, how bad can it be? At least Cammie and her father won’t be there,” she says.

And here is my first huge mistake: I remain quiet. I don’t confess that Riverton will be there.

Instead, I say, “You amaze me.” I push the guilt down, then pull her in for a kiss. Our tongues dance. Her arms go around me and she gives herself over to me. I push in closer, intent on climbing into the tub and taking what’s mine.

“Gray! What are you doing? You’ll get all wet!”

“I don’t give a fuck,” I tell her, and I don’t. I need this. I need her. And I really don’t want to think about what’s going to happen if Riverton and Cammie are at that meeting tomorrow night.





“Are you sure I look alright?” I ask Gray for the tenth time, which is crazy since I know I look good. I’m also confident in the dress I’m wearing. I spent all day researching places on the web so I would find the perfect dress to wear. We’re having dinner at a very uptown restaurant. It took us two hours to drive here. I guess the assholes didn’t want to eat in the small town they had condemned Gray to compete in.

“Sweetheart, you look beautiful,” he says, and the softness in his voice almost undoes me. I’m wearing a black cocktail dress. Classic, chic, and definitely not something that will embarrass me or Gray. I went to a spa and had my hair tamed and fixed. If there is one thing about my outfit that Gray doesn’t like, my hair would be it; he loves my hair and misses the curls tonight. I’d never admit it, but I kind of do, too. I take a breath at the hostess table, trying to make sure my dress is straight and I haven’t done something stupid. I look behind me thinking I will find toilet paper stuck to my dress from when I went to the bathroom, but there isn’t. It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense, but then again, I’m not exactly making a lot of sense tonight. “Stop fidgeting, Cooper. You’re beautiful. You’re the best looking woman here tonight.”

“You haven’t seen the other women,” I tell him.

He pulls my face close to his, so close that our foreheads touch. His hands gently cup the sides of my neck and his eyes look deep into mine. “Since the moment I met you, Claudia Cooper, other women ceased to exist for me.” His words, so softly delivered, pierce my heart and squeeze it so tight it’s hard to breathe.

I fight through it, my hand going to cover his on my neck. “That’s a really good line, Grayson Lucas.”

“There’s not a line in it. I’m so fucking proud to have you on my arm, Cooper. Never doubt that for one fucking minute.”

Can you stop breathing from the force of words alone? The thing about it is, his words seep into empty parts of me and fill up holes that have been there for years. I have no defense. I’m just here, exposed.

“If you make me cry, I’m going to kick you in the nuts,” I try to joke, but my voice is broken, giving away the emotion he has evoked.

His beautiful lips slowly smile. “Got it. No more sappy stuff.”

“No more sappy stuff,” I agree, and he kisses me quickly before pulling away.

“Do you have reservations?” the hostess asks, and Gray looks at me strangely, clears his throat, and grabs hold of my hand. He squeezes it reassuringly and I’m starting to get a bad feeling.

“It should be under Riverton,” he says quietly to the hostess, but he’s looking at me.

My face goes pale. I know it does because I can feel the cold clamminess spread. Riverton? What the fuck? He knew Riverton was going to be here and he didn’t warn me? Gray knew I thought he wouldn’t be here and he let me believe it. I jerk my hand, trying to get it free from his hold. He doesn’t let go, however, and before I can say anything to him, the devil himself picks that moment to walk up.