“Hold on tight, okay? I don’t care if you feel like you’re about to rip my head off, just don’t let go.” Grant glanced up at her and waited for her to nod.
“Not letting go.” She wound her arms around his head, tying her fingers below his chin.
Then Grant’s arms slipped beneath me, his arms curling around my shoulders and knees, before he stood up like he wasn’t carrying a person in his arms and a large seven-year-old on his shoulders.
“Mr. Turner, let me get one of them.” The security guard burst up beside us, but Grant practically snarled when he tried reaching out for me.
“I’ve got my family,” Grant stated, already moving down the hall. “You cover me.” He glanced down at me like he already knew the look he’d find on my face. “What? You two are my family, and I’m tired of no one knowing about it.” He continued down the hall, me in his arms, Charlie on his shoulders, and looking the most invincible I’d ever seen him. “It’s time everyone knows about it.”
THANKS TO GRANT’S iron will and equally iron strength, Charlie and I made it out of the stadium undetected, slipping into a dark car that had been waiting for us when Grant shoved through one of the players’ access doors. He’d almost crawled in the car with us, but I told him to stop acting like a crazy person and go get changed and showered before he caused any more females to spontaneously combust.
It had taken Charlie and me a few minutes to convince him that we were okay before he agreed, sending the poor security guard in his place. From the look Grant gave him after telling him not to leave our sides until we were inside the front door, I guessed he was threatening castration if the guard disobeyed.
I tried to lighten the drive back to Grant’s by making a few Secret Service jokes, but he was not in the mood to be lightened up. Poor guy. He looked like he’d just watched his dog get run over, but it wasn’t his fault I’d taken a spill like that. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. The sooner Grant came to accept that as I had, the easier it would be to move on from these kinds of incidents. Because they’d continue to happen. Increasing in frequency and intensity.
Mrs. Kent had left earlier, leaving a plate of enchiladas in the fridge for whenever we were hungry for dinner, but I wasn’t hungry and Charlie was happy enough with a peanut butter sandwich and apple slices. For the first time since moving into Grant’s, Charlie actually fell asleep before her bedtime, probably due to the excitement of the day.
I was going to put the enchiladas in the oven for Grant, guessing he’d be starving after playing a game like he had, but I wasn’t sure when he’d get back and I didn’t want to annoy him with calls like I was checking up on him.
This was the first home game he’d had since we’d moved in, and I wasn’t sure what a typical day looked like. The game had finished around four, and he’d gotten us tucked into the car a little before four thirty. I guessed there might have been after-game meetings and maybe interviews, but when nine o’clock chimed on the big clock hanging in the foyer, I decided to head up to bed. For all I knew, he might already be hibernating in the pool house. God knew he’d earned it.
Peeking inside Charlie’s room before heading to mine, I made sure she was sleeping soundly and had her blankets tucked in around her, then I wandered into the master bedroom.
It had been another unseasonably warm day, and while the air conditioning kept the house more than comfortable, I felt the need for some fresh air. Grant’s home was the only place I’d lived in with the luxury of air conditioning, and as nice as it was, it was taking me some time to get used to.
The windows in the master bedroom were long and wide, a half dozen of them running along one wall. One by one, I opened them as far as they’d go, until a gentle breeze was rolling through the room, playing with the sheer panels hanging from the windows, almost making them look like angels floating in the night.
Enough light spilled down from the moon, so I kept the lights off in the room and moved toward one of the middle windows. Ducking beneath the fluttering panel, I rested my hands on the windowsill, sticking my head out of the window just enough to get a view of what was below me. The pool glowed beneath me, surrounded by a stone patio surrounded by an endless stretch of landscaping. Beyond, New York City twinkled in the distance.
It was so beautiful here. Like a fairy tale. The ones I’d been too scared to read as a child, knowing how very opposite my life was from them. I thought about how far I’d come. How much I had wrung out of life that I’d never guessed I’d have a chance to or, back then, never even knew existed to wish for. Like happiness. And peace. And a beautiful daughter. And her wonderful father. And this amazing spot where everything was cared for, and growing, and appreciated.