Page 108 of You First
“Just so you know, I’m not budging on this,” she said, turning back toward the hall. “Coming, Oscar!”
He planted his feet and held tight to her hand. She spun back to face him when she couldn’t step any further.
“What is it? Like you said, I’m wanted in the kitchen.”
Gray stepped closer. “Yeah, but you’re wanted in here, too.” He held her gaze and took the last step that separated them. If she wasn’t ready for this, he wouldn’t push it. He’d only held her as she’d asked the night before and then kissed her chastely on the forehead before she’d gone to bed.
But if they couldn’t see eye to eye on bringing charges against Jamie, he didn’t want her to walk away without a reminder of how he felt.
Meredith looked up at him, and the smile just dawning on her lips gave him permission to tuck their joined hands behind her back. When she didn’t tense or look away, Gray pulled her against him.
He brought his left hand to her cheek. “Good morning,” he whispered, tracing his fingers over her perfect skin.
Her slow blink spurred his pulse. “Good morning,” she echoed softly.
He felt her right hand land on his waist. When she tugged him forward, he didn’t hesitate. Gray brought his lips to hers and kissed her gently, lightly. She answered with small kisses of her own. He heard the pull of his breath, tucked his hand behind her head, and pressed his kiss deeper.
And Meredith drew back with a gasp.
Her hand shot up to cover her mouth. “Sorry. A little sore.”
Fuck.
It took every ounce of Gray’s will to hold back from flying out the door in a rage and coming back with Jamie McCormick’s head on a pike.
Instead, he gritted his teeth and tucked Meredith into a hug. She was in his arms, he reminded himself, and she’d fought — literally — with tooth and nail to keep that asshole from doing his worst. And Gray thanked God she was strong enough this morning to argue with him and at ease enough, at least, towantto kiss him.
Time would heal her physical wounds, and, God willing, he’d take care of the rest.
“YOU KNOW HOWthis sounds, right?” André sat in Gray’s living room, looking at him like he’d lost his mind.
Gray crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his friend. “No. Tell me. How does this sound?”
They’d finished signing off and witnessing the changes to Gray’s will, and André’s staffers had just left when Gray brought up Meredith’s attack and his wish for her to prosecute.
Dré leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, shaking his head. “Don’t be getting mad at me, Gray, but you just met this girl. She’s nineteen years old—”
“She’ll be twenty next month,” Gray interjected.
“She’snineteenyears old,” Dré repeated, letting his eyebrows crowd his forehead. “She’s got a kid. She’s got a violent ex-boyfriend-baby-daddy who allegedly roughs her up, and when the shit goes south, she comes to you. I think—”
“It’s not like that.” Gray gave a solitary jerk of his head. He held his composure by a fraying thread. “I had to beg her to come here. And fuckallegedly. She has bruises.”
“Now, hold on,” Dré cautioned, holding up his palms. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you. But it never crossed your mind she could be playin’ you?”
Gray would have laughed if he hadn’t been so pissed.“Playing me?She couldn’t play anyone. Meredith doesn’t have a deceptive bone in her body,” he bit out. “No, that thought never crossed my mind because she’s neveraskedme for anything. She refuses the help I offer, and the first time I made a move, she turned me down—”
“Well, shit, now I have heard everything,” Dré said, his words swimming in sarcasm.
Gray rubbed his head. He couldn’t tell André that Meredith’s innocence and her selflessness were the first things he loved about her. Half-a-dozen times last night and this morning, he’d wanted to say the words. Tell her he loved her like nothing else. Gray had been crazy about her since they first met, but the madness he felt the night before when he sensed — accurately — that she was in danger made the truth unmistakable. He was in love with Meredith Ryan, and giving her everything he had — his protection, his possessions, his passion — was all he knew how to do.
“Advise me, André. She doesn’t want to press charges, but I want to maim that son of a bitch.”
André gave a noisy sigh, jangling his well-muscled limbs as though shaking off a net of frustration. “Fine. Fine. Let me talk to her. I have some ideas, but she needs to sign off on them.”
“Good,” Gray said, nodding. “She’ll be here any minute.”
André shook his head. “I swear, I knew you were hard-headed, but this girl’s turned you into a horse’s ass,” he muttered.
