Not Alone Read online

  Toby looked at me, cocked his head to the side as if studying me, and immediately busted out his cat that ate the canary grin. “You got laid!” he shouted.

  “What? No I didn’t.” Then realized I had started twisting my necklace.

  Damn.

  Busted.

  Releasing my necklace, fidgeting I said, “Well, what was I supposed to say, that he rocked my flipping world? Or that he screwed my brains out and gave me three, yes three of the best orgasms of my life?” OH. MY. GOD. Did I really just blurt all of that out?!

  “Well…yeah,” Toby smiled as he shrugged. Then I had to dish out the goods.

  Every. Single. Last. Detail.

  Grady now snuck in once he was off from work, no matter if it was nine pm or two am. He woke up with me and my alarm and left before Tucker got up.

  I know that this was taking a toll on both of us, sneaking around like a couple of teenagers trying to keep it from their parents, when in all actuality we were grown adults sneaking around a nine year old boy. I planned on talking to Tucker about Grady being here soon.

  Things couldn’t be better between Tucker and Grady. Tuck absolutely adored Grady and vice versa. He had proven to be an amazing role model to my son. Grady started joining us at Tucker’s soccer games, even though Tuck was still benched for a few more weeks yet, due to his broken arm. Tucker just loved being there to show his support for his teammates. And I loved that he had suggested it in the first place. That made me proud as a mother, to see her son not wallow in self-pity, but put his teammates first.

  Grady had also taken Tucker to the arcade and to the movies a few times. He even took the time to take Tuck to a North American Soccer League Game, The Atlanta Silverbacks versus Minnesota United. I heard about it for a week nonstop. They both enjoyed doing guy stuff together but I think Tucker more so, since my dad hadn’t been around.

  It melted my heart into a puddle to see Grady take time out to play and hang out with my son. Whether it was playing with Legos or, excuse me, building with Legos, playing superheroes, or just listening to Grady talk about the Army.

  That being said, I was definitely, one hundred million percent madly in love with Grady Finnegan. Had I told him yet? Absolutely not, but I would when the timing was right.

  After my store was ransacked, it took a few days to get everything back in order, and Grady was right beside me every step of the way. I was able to get a new display window installed as well as an even more kickass bakery case. Luckily, everything else was salvageable, plus Grady talked me into getting a state of the art security system.

  Corbin Montgomery still hadn’t been found. The Sheriff’s Department had no other leads thus far and since it had been a month since anything had occurred, the case had been put on the back burner.

  Looking over at my man while he slept, I cracked a small smile. I still couldn’t believe he was mine. He has accepted me flaws and all, with open arms.

  His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. I wonder if any ghosts haunted him from his time away during missions. He hadn’t outright told me, actually he didn’t talk much about his missions at all, just general stuff pertaining to the Army. But it was the little things like the way he silenced his phone at times, and it turned his face into a blank slate, it made me wonder, what was going on. It was sad to see a frown mar his beautiful face.

  I wasn’t able to get my fill of touching him last night. I honestly didn’t think I would quite ever get my fill. His skin was taut around the muscles in his chest and abdomen. Where I was soft, he was hard. It really was quite the contrast, but we fit perfectly together. I began tracing the outer lines of his abs as he stirred awake.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” he said in his husky, sleep-filled voice that I loved.

  “Hi babe, sorry I woke you. I just couldn’t help myself.”

  “Well, please help yourself to a kiss,” he said as he pulled my body close to his for an all too brief kiss. I was not one for morning kisses before I’d been able to brush my teeth, but Grady told me to get over it. I got over it.

  After breaking our kiss, I began tracing his lone tattoo that adorned his arm, as I often did. “Grady, you’ve never told me what your tattoo meant.”

  “Well, the hands are obviously God’s hands and the dog tags were all men on my team or unit which I lost at one time or another. This tattoo is to remind me every day that I’m alive. I could have let the depression take over after getting my injury, but these dog tags and the men inscribed on each one are a constant reminder to overcome my battles, and relish the fact that I’m alive. I am not a hero, but I see it as my duty to live, for them.”

  After his heartfelt explanation we heard a knock at my bedroom door. Shit! Pulling apart, I brought the comforter up to my neck, covering Grady entirely in the process.

  “What Tucker?” I asked in a somewhat strained voice. Damn, I was being caught by my nine year old son.

  Seeing the doorknob slowly turn, I braced myself for the onslaught of questions. The door reared open and Tucker popped his head in.

  “Mom, can you make me some breakfast please?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, probably wondering what the hell the big lump was underneath the covers next to me.

  “Uh….sure, just give me a few minutes.”

  “Okay mom…Hi Grady!”

  “Grady isn’t here,” I said, my finger automatically began to twirl my necklace. Damn, I wouldn’t even believe that lie.

  “Yeah, sure he isn’t, that’s why you’re twirling your necklace around. Mom, I’m almost ten years old, I know Grady has been staying here.” Damn, when did my son get to be so smart? But then again he just reminded me that he was almost ten.

  “You do? How?” I was intrigued. I had always made sure he was quiet when he came in and out every night. I was so careful as to not get caught, and he already knew?

  “I saw Grady come from the hall bathroom last week, no big deal,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders and closed the door as he left the room.

  “Huh,” I muttered, bewildered. Beside me, Grady was shaking in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. I flopped the covers back, unveiling the rat. “Yah, ha ha very funny…now spill.”

  “Uh yeah, I forgot to tell you. I ran into Tucker in the hallway last week, and he seemed cool with it,” he said, shrugging one shoulder like it was no big thing.

  I reached behind me to grab my pillow and whacked Grady upside the head with it.

  “Dude, don’t you think you should’ve told me that you ran into my son in the hallway while you were spending the night? I think that little tidbit deserved a heads up!”

  “Did you seriously just call me dude? And what was that all about, twirling your necklace?”

  “Nope, not telling. If you haven’t figured it out by now then you don’t deserve to know, now I have to go fix my son breakfast.” I stuck out my tongue while I swung both legs from the bed to the floor, taking an extra second to stretch out my left leg.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Grady

  October was in full swing and the Brown County Harvest Festival was in just a few days. Emmalynne currently had Tucker and I up to our eyeballs in apples, Granny Smith Apples to be more precise. Seriously, I would die a happy man if I never have to peel another apple again.

  Tucker was right along with me in agony. “How many apples do we have to peel mom?” he whined while placing another freshly peeled apple in the bowl Emmalynne had set aside.

  “Yeah mom, how many?” I mocked, generating a chuckle from Tucker. He then felt the need to hip check me, which because of the height difference ended up being a mid-thigh check for me.

  “Well, since I plan on baking eight pies today, I need sixty-four peeled.”

  Luckily, Emmalynne’s apple pies were incredible, so I guess it would be ok putting in the time peeling these fucking things. Hopefully we wouldn’t end up with a casualty by slicing into our fingers.

  She was absolutely mesmerizing to watch, moving ar
ound the kitchen with such grace. I could watch her float around in her kitchen all day, she was in her element. She was born to bake. But, alas, I had to get back to peeling apples.

  “Why exactly are you making all of these?” I asked while pointing to the stack of empty pie pans, pie dough, and, I was guessing other pie making ingredients.

  “Mom does it every year, donates her pies and whatever they sell for or get auctioned off for goes into a fund to help with things around Brown County,” Tucker answered for her, with a surge of pride in his voice. “Last year they were able to build a brand new soccer complex.”

  “That’s mainly what the Harvest Festival is for, raising money so it can be put back into the community.” She said wiping her floured covered hands on a dishtowel that was draped over her shoulder, then picking up two completed pies. “I’m going to go place these finished pies into the fridge in the garage.”

  With her gone for a minute now was my chance to ask Tucker about this morning. “Hey Tuck, what did you mean about your mom twirling her necklace?” I asked in a muted voice, just to be sure Emmalynne wouldn’t hear me.

  “Man, whenever she is lying, she takes her necklace into her hand and twirls it around her fingers. I can always tell by that move what I’m getting for my birthday, it’s so awesome.” He stopped to look towards the door to the garage, and realizing the coast was still clear, continued, “I’ll be like am I getting the new Lego Batman? If she says no and twirls that necklace…BOOM! Lego Batman.” He had the most devilish grin appear on his face about the same time Em came back inside through the door leading to the garage.

  This was very valuable information I’d just obtained. Now I was going to be trying to think back to see if she’d ever twirled her necklace when giving me an answer….hmm…

  “Tucker, my child, you are relieved of your apple peeling duties. Drew’s parents are on their way here to pick you up,” Emmalynne said to Tucker. And no sooner than the words came out of her mouth he took off, leaving me stuck peeling apples without a backwards glance. Traitor.

  After getting Tucker all squared away, Emmalynne came back into the kitchen to work on prepping more pies. She had a mini assembly line set up to where it made things faster and more efficient for her. You could definitely tell she’d done this a time or ten before.

  It warmed my heart to think of all the ways Emmalynne helped people. Not just donating her time and her pies to the Harvest Festival, she also volunteered for the PTO, and she was a classroom mother for Tucker’s class. She truly was a selfless woman, and I was so proud to call her mine. How did I get to be such a lucky bastard?

  As my woman was rolling out more dough on her flour-covered countertop, I asked, “So, sweetheart have you heard anything from your dad?”

  Hearing the loud thwack made on the counter from the rolling pin, I knew I had my answer. “No, I haven’t. Tucker asks about him all the time though, he misses him tremendously. I hope I did the right thing by issuing that ultimatum.” She really seemed to be torn on whether or not she had made the right decision, as if everyone’s life rested solely on her shoulders.

  “Babe.” I stopped peeling, putting my peeler and current apple down, and turned towards her, leaning a hip against the counter. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself but most importantly, Tucker. Your dad has to want to help himself. If he doesn’t address his problem head on, then he will just continue to deny it, thinking everything is alright. You did a good thing by planting the seed in his head, saying that he needed to get help.”

  “You’re right..” she started to say.

  “Damn straight I am…Could I get that in writing that you said I was right about something?” I said jokingly, of course.

  “What I was trying to say before I was so rudely interrupted,” she went on, but not before poking me in the ribs. “You’re right, my first priority is and will always be my son.”

  I cleared my throat. “While we are on the topic of parents, I spoke with my mom yesterday. She’s planning on coming to Georgia for Thanksgiving, I would really like for you to meet her.”

  She dropped the ball of pie dough that she had in her hands onto the counter with a splat, making a cloud of flour erupt in the air. “You…you want me to meet your mom?” Wa she for real? Damn, she was so beautiful but so very clueless.

  Looking deep into her chocolate brown eyes, I cupped the side of her jaw as she leaned into my hand. I cemented my point. “I’m in this for the long haul, sweetheart.” Seeing her eyes fill with tears wasn’t the exact reaction I was hoping for, but I would fucking take it.

  Now would be the perfect time to tell her that I loved her, because I did. I loved her so fucking much. But I was a coward. I’d never said those three words to anyone outside of family before.

  I did acknowledge it out loud the other day though, just not to the person it would matter most to.

  ---~~~---

  Uncle Mac cornered me before the bar opened. I had just walked into his office. “Son, close the door and have a seat,” Mac said while rubbing his hands on his old faded Levi’s.

  Uncle Mac was all country, even though he drove a Harley. He wore Levi’s, flannel shirts, and cowboy boots every single day of his life, even to church. “I see you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with Emmalynne Morgan lately and if your intentions are anything less than honorable, then I suggest you break it off now before continuing.”

  What the fuck?! I shot up out of my chair, ready to rip into my Uncle, family or not.

  “Now calm down,” he raised a hand, coaxing me back into my seat. “I see the way she looks at you, like you are the air she needs to breathe. Listen, she has been dealt a shit hand in life, and still comes out looking at the positive. Her mother died when she was young, her father is an alcoholic, hell, her husband turned into a fucking asshole. Emmy is special, she’s the type of woman who would do right by you and love you wholeheartedly until the day she dies. You don’t come across that type of woman too often, and when you do, you grab ahold with both hands and never fucking let go. I’ve heard you have a reputation back in New York, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t bring it along with you when you moved here and for you to do right by her.”

  I opened my mouth and snapped it shut. I felt as if I had been dealt a physical blow to my gut. Sure, I’d gotten around but I’d never, and I repeat never, felt as strongly for someone as I had with Emmalynne.

  “Uncle Mac, I know you mean well and, if you must know, I love Emmalynne, and I don’t throw that word around lightly.”

  “Alright, son.” He stood and walked over to me to clasp my shoulder. I looked up into his eyes as he said, “Then don’t fuck this up.” And with that, he walked out of his office.

  ---~~~---

  “Grady,” Em called, breaking into my thoughts. Locking eyes with mine, she placed a hand on my cheek. She took a deep breath, and whispered, “I love you Grady Finnegan.”

  I inhaled sharply. She loved me. She actually fucking loved me. Here was my chance to return my feelings, to lay them down at her feet. But instead of manning up and confessing my love to this unbelievable, beautiful woman, I froze.

  Instead, I pushed her back into the counter and kissed her deeply. Grabbing a handful of flour, I placed my hand on her face, thus leaving a handprint. She took this as an invitation as she grabbed herself a handful and blew it towards to my face.

  Game On.

  Her declaration of love dropped for now. I was such an idiot.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Emmalynne

  Today was the day of the Brown County Harvest Festival. I ended up making sixteen apple pies total, as well as numerous jars of apple butter. I was done with all things apple until next year. I didn’t even want to look at another apple until then. I finally had to call in reinforcements, by the name of Tessa and Toby, to help with peeling and coring of apples, since I had exhausted my other two helpers.

  The day in the kitchen when I confessed my love
for Grady wouldn’t be one I’d forget anytime soon. I felt foolish for blurting out the words. And then for him not to return them, I was not going to lie, it stung.

  After our flour fight we were both covered basically from head to toe. So we decided to take a shower, and one thing led to another. The pies were long forgotten.

  Anyways, both Grady and I spent all morning making our respective chili’s to be judged that afternoon. I was not worried one bit. I knew that I had this in the bag, I felt it. Although Grady’s chili did give me a little competition, it still didn’t rise to the quality that was my chili. I still valued his effort, though.

  Walking hand in hand throughout the festival with my son in tow, was the best feeling in the world. The aroma of street food was in abundance. It was great to see people come together as a community and help out our surroundings.

  The Harvest Festival had every kind of booth you could imagine, from food, to crafts, and games. There was always a great time had by all. All the booths were lined up and down each side of Franklin St. Businesses closed during the Festival, which was only one day, but the patrons were definitely dedicated to the Festival.

  “Mom, there is Drew. Can I go play games with him and his family?” Tucker asked while bouncing on the balls of his feet.

  “Sure honey, just be careful and…”

  “I know, I know, be good. See ya mom, bye Grady,” he said while waving back to us.

  “Tucker is such a great kid, Emmy Lou. You’ve done an amazing job raising him so far,” Grady said as he wrapped his arm around my waist, then leaned his head down to place a kiss on my temple.

  In the walkway, the crowd dispersed, leaving just a man and a woman in the middle. Seeing him get down on bended knee, I knew exactly what was taking place in front of us.

  I leaned into Grady to say, “Oh my, he’s proposing. How romantic to do it in front of everyone at the Harvest Festival.” Pure awe and excitement were in my voice.