Take Me Home (The Heartbreak Brothers 1)

“I didn’t say that. It’s just not…” she trailed off and took a deep breath. “It seems so impersonal.”

His eyes softened. “It’s okay,” he told her. “I feel the same. It’s like living on the set of a movie or something. It’s not real life.”

He’d captured it exactly. Being here felt like being on vacation. Perfect to spend a few days, but after that, she’d yearn for home.

He turned to her and cupped her face with his warm palm. She closed her eyes and breathed him in.

“I bought this place because I had something to prove,” he said softly, leaning in to brush his lips against hers. “To my dad, more than anybody. And he doesn’t even know it exists. I wanted everybody who saw it to know I’d made it. That I’m someone. But at the end of the day it’s just bricks and mortar.”

Her eyes caught his. “I know you have to spend a lot of time here. And L.A. is an amazing place. But Hartson’s Creek is home. For me at least.”

He kissed her again. Firmer and surer this time. In spite of her exhaustion, and the throbbing ache in her hand, she could feel her body respond to him. She pressed her chest against his, curled her good hand around his neck and kissed him harder.

Gray moaned into her lips and a jolt of pleasure shot through her.

“Baby, home is wherever you are,” he told her, his mouth moving against hers. “Hartson’s Creek, London, Paris. I don’t give a shit. I just want you in my arms.”

“You say that now, but what about your job?”

“I’m always traveling, you know that. Maybe sometimes you’ll travel with me and sometimes you won’t. Eventually, we’ll have to rethink things when we have kids.”

Her lips curled. “We’re having kids?”

“Yeah. I’m thinking four boys.”

She laughed. “Because that worked out so well for you.”

He ran his finger along the sharp line of her cheek. “Boys, girls, I don’t really care. I just want a few of them. And you, playing the piano and keeping us all in order. I like the idea of that a lot.”

She was grinning now. The picture he was painting was pulling at her heart.

“And on Sundays, we’ll go to church and make Reverend Maitland happy. Then we’ll take the kids to Murphy’s and tell them to avoid the eggs.”

“You’ve got it all planned out.”

“I’ve had a while to think about things,” he told her. “Maybe Hartson’s Creek is in my blood. The same way it’s in yours. God knows I’ve tried to out run it, and I thought I’d done it, too. But then I went home and found my heart. Found a way to breathe again.” He pressed his brow against hers, their lashes touching. “Thanks to you.”

“Where would we live?” she asked him, not ready to give up the picture yet.

“We’d find a piece of land. Build a big house and have a studio attached. You can teach piano. Maybe write songs, too. When I’m not touring I’ll record my albums there. Maybe even produce for a few others. And at the end of each day we’ll sit on a couple of Adirondack chairs with a beer and stare at the lightning bugs.”

God, she wanted that. More than she’d ever realized. “What about the paparazzi?”

“They’ll move on because we’ll be boring as hell.” He grinned. “There’s not much money in a rockstar living happily ever after.” He tipped his head to the side, his eyes scanning her face. “Of course, that means you’ll probably have to hang up your boxing gloves.”

She raised her brows. “I can do that. It was only for one night.”

“That’s good, because you have a mean right hook.”

“You’d do well to remember it.”

“Baby, I will.” He kissed her jaw, her throat, the little dip at the base of her neck. She held her breath as her nipples peaked beneath her thin t-shirt. “And I mean every word of it. I want the happily ever after, the white picket fence. The Brady Bunch family who sings together.” His eyes were intent as he lifted his head from her chest. “I want you, Madison Clark. Will you have me?”

Her body ached with need. For him. His vision of the future. The family he wanted them to make. She could see the truth in his eyes as the corner of his lips curled up into that sexy smile she could never resist.

“Yeah, Gray Hartson. I’ll have you.”

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