“Uh, I can’t go to Mom and Dad’s like this,” Lenora moans. “Don’t want Trace to see me.”
I glance in the rearview mirror at Lenora and nod. I know where she’s coming from. I assume Trace is her son, and I wouldn’t want my daughters to see me in the state that she’s in either.
“My house. Do you know where I live, Grayson Davis?” Laken asks, making me smile.
“Yes, Laken Abbott, I know where you live.” Did she forget this is Mason Creek?
“Good. That’s good,” she mumbles, resting her head against the window.
The drive to her place is short. I pull up to the back entrance and park my truck, retrieving the keys. “Home sweet home,” I tell them.
“Thanks, Grayson.” Lenora manages to unbuckle her belt and push open the back door.
I climb out of the truck and rush around to help her. “I’m good,” she assures me. “However, Laken might need some help. She doesn’t drink. I don’t either, not really, but Laken definitely had more than usual.”
“She okay?” I ask her.
“Yeah, there’s this guy she’s always crushed on that was there. She needed liquid courage, I guess.” She shrugs, and I can’t explain why, but a surge of something… almost like jealousy courses through me. It’s ridiculous. I have nothing to be jealous about. She’s not mine, but the feeling is there all the same.
“She doesn’t need it,” I mumble. If she needs alcohol to be around this guy, she doesn’t need to be with him.
“What’s that?” Lenora asks.
“Nothing.”
“That—” She points at a sleeping Laken in the passenger seat of my truck. “It’s what happens when your high school crush is suddenly in your inner circle.”
My mind races as I run through all the men who were at the bar tonight and which one could be her crush. I’m pulled out of my thoughts by Lenora’s laugh.
“It’s you, Grayson,” she says. Reaching around me, she grabs Laken’s purse from the floorboard and reaches in, pulling out the keys. “You might have to carry her.” With that, she walks to the door, manages to unlock it, and leans against it, holding the door open for us.
It’s you, Grayson.
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I sigh. I need to get Laken inside and get my ass home. “Laken.” I shake her shoulder. Nothing. She’s out. “Laken, you’re home,” I tell her. This time her eyes flutter open.
A slow sexy smile pulls at her lips. “I like this dream.”
I don’t know why I do it, but I cradle her cheek in the palm of my hand. “You’re not dreaming, babe. Can you walk?”
“This is my dream. You have to carry me.”
Shaking my head, trying not to smile, I lift her into my arms and kick the door closed. She snuggles in close, wrapping her arms around my neck. “You feel so real,” she murmurs.
“Oh my God.” Lenora guffaws. “I’m never going to let her live this down.”
Walking past her, I give her a stern look. “Let’s just keep this between us, yeah?”
“No way, Davis,” she says, calling me by my last name. “I wish I would have recorded it.” She grins.
Hitting the stairs, I carry Laken up them with ease and step back, waiting for Lenora to unlock the apartment door. Inside is a small studio-style apartment. I take her to the corner and place her gently on the bed.
“Gray?” Laken asks.
“Yeah?”
“You smell good.” With that, she rolls over and closes her eyes.
Unable to stop myself, I brush her red hair out of her eyes and pull the cover over her. When I turn to leave, I see Lenora standing with her arms crossed over her chest, watching me.
“Thanks for the ride, Grayson.”
“Between us,” I remind her.
She nods. “Not for you, but for her. She’d be devastated.”
I want to look back, but I know that I shouldn’t. I feel a connection toward Laken, and it’s fucking with me. Instead, I tell Lenora goodnight and remind her to lock up after me.
The ride to my place is quick. I walk straight to the cabinet over the refrigerator and grab the bottle of whiskey that I sometimes indulge in. I pour myself a glass and down it before pouring another. I try to drink the beautiful Laken out of my mind, but it’s impossible.
Giving up, I clean up the kitchen and the living room, but I’m still amped up. For the first time in three years, I fall asleep thinking of someone other than my late wife, and I’m not sure I know how to handle that.
Chapter 5
Laken
“Morning sunshine!” my sister says. I feel the bed dip, and without cracking an eye open, I know she’s sitting next to me.
“Too early,” I grumble.
“It’s ten.”
“Too early,” I repeat, making her laugh.
“Come on, lazybones. Grab a shower, and we can walk to get your car, and you can take me home.”