The Trouble With Tomboys(72)

The door to the guest room was still open, and he could hear her moving around inside. Grady approached quietly. He stopped just before entering and peeked around the corner. She sat on the bed, holding up the tiniest pair of high top sneakers he’d ever seen. It was the awed smile on her face that caught him right in the chest though.

More than anything, he wanted to go inside, sit next to her and see all the things she and Jo Ellen had picked out. But she looked so happy, doused in her private thoughts, he felt himself stepping back instead. Since she was upset with him, he didn’t want to ruin such a special moment for her.

He retreated to their bedroom, stripped to his 201







boxers, and crawled into bed. After shutting off the light, he lay there, wondering how the hell he was going to deal with this. ****

When B.J. went to bed, Grady was already lying under the covers on his side of the mattress with his eyes closed. She swore he was faking it. But she didn’t want another confrontation just then, so she quietly slipped into an oversized T-shirt and eased onto the mattress beside him. He didn’t stir.

It took her a long time to fall asleep. And when she did, she dreamed of him and Amy at a hospital, delivering a healthy baby. The smile on Grady’s face was so radiant, she jerked awake with a gasp.

The first traces of light were starting to enter the room through the shades, so she crawled out of bed, feeling drained and sore. She took a shower, dressed and left the bedroom before Grady woke.

He joined her just as she poured milk over her cereal. Unable to look at him, she merely put the carton in the fridge and moved silently to the table.

As she seated herself, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He went to the back door, disappeared outside for a few seconds before returning with a newspaper.

She munched noisily, staring straight ahead as he fixed his own bowl of cereal and finally seated himself across from her.

Unable to take it anymore, she muttered, “I’m messing up, aren’t I?”

In the middle of unrolling the paper, Grady

snapped his head up. “What?”

“Are we fighting?”

He blinked. “Uh…” he stalled, looking confused.

“What makes you think we’re fighting?”

“Well, when you walked in here this morning, I noticed your hair was kind of messed up and I thought it looked really sexy. So, naturally, I 202



The Trouble with Tomboys



thought about what it’d feel like to run my fingers through it and then, wham, this totally erotic fantasy popped into my head of me crawling into your lap, right there where you’re sitting at the table and riding you like there was no tomorrow. But I held myself back because I thought...well, you’re mad at me for not calling you yesterday. You probably don’t want me anywhere near you.”

He straightened. “I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

He shook his head.

She scowled. “So, why didn’t you touch me last night?”

He laughed. “I don’t know.” He ran his hands through his hair, making it look even sexier. “I guess I thought you were mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” she demanded to know. That kind of thinking was just...stupid.

He shrugged.

“I’m not mad,” she said. “And I still want to ride you like there’s no tomorrow.”

He was already dropping his newspaper and

scooting back his chair. “Then what’re you still doing over there?”

B.J. laughed. Popping to her feet before he could change his mind and realize he really was mad at her, she rushed around the table and straddled his hips just as he unzipped his fly.

“Hurry,” he growled, his eyes already unfocused and glassy.

B.J. kissed him hard and ground her middle

against him, making him groan and sink his teeth into her bottom lip.

“I’m not kidding,” he added. “Hurry. I need you.

Now.”

As he skimmed his hands up her torso and rid her of her shirt, she slipped off her panties. He reached for her hips and jerked her down. When she 203







sheathed him with her heat, they both caught their breaths. To keep them from tipping over backward in the chair, he braced his legs wider, which spread her thighs in the process, leaving her open and vulnerable. The resulting effect caused her to clench around him.

His already glazed eyes dilated. Grabbing her hair with both hands, he yanked so hard tears of pain clogged her lashes.

“God. Oh, God,” he rasped and jerked up into her, nearly bucking her off his lap. Squeezing her hips more securely around him, she stared into his eyes and came just when she felt him shudder.

He buried his face in her shoulder, and she