Defining Us (Rocky Waters)

Chapter 25

25

AINSLEY

I t takes me a few days to truly forgive Natalie, but in the end, I realize that despite her recent actions, she’s a really great person and one of the best friends I’ve ever had in my life. She’s got a rocky road ahead of her with Grayson—and Caleb too—and I don’t need to add to that burden. It hurts that she lied to me, but I’m over it. And she knows I won’t be as forgiving if she ever lies to me again.

As for Grayson and me, I’m actually kind of glad Nat put us in the middle. I know everything won’t always be smooth sailing between the two of us, and while I know this wasn’t a huge fight, it sucked when his anger was directed at me. It’s not something I need to be feeling again anytime soon. I’m just glad we are learning this together. Maybe I will even learn to let go of my need to hold grudges against others. Grayson can probably teach me that, as long as it’s not him I need to hold the grudge against.

One night a few weeks later, we walk in the door around 9:30 p.m. after being out for most of the day. Grayson drops the bags in the foyer and comes into the kitchen, plugging in and turning on the coffee machine before doing anything else.

“I need a big mug, please Gray,” I call out. I take a seat at the table and scroll through my emails .

Surprisingly, I don't have as many as I thought I would and by the time Grayson puts a steaming mug of coffee down in front of me, I've whittled my inbox down to twenty-five, one of which stands out, so I start with that one. The subject is “Cupcakes.”

I slowly read through the email, and by my facial expressions, Grayson knows it must be good news.

“What has you smiling from ear to ear, darling?” He takes a seat next to me and starts rubbing my thigh. His head snoops over my shoulder trying to read the email himself. I flip it around so he can't read it. “Hey! Share the news then.”

“It's a friend of a friend who was at the girls’ shower. She wants me to make cupcakes.” I can't help the even bigger smile that spreads on my face.

“That's great,” he replies, as his hand moves closer and closer up my leg. I swat it away as I continue.

“Apparently, she's hosting some gala at an art museum and needs like two hundred fifty to three hundred cupcakes next month.”

His face shoots up to mine. “And she wants you to make them all?” he asks, his face registering the shock he must feel.

“Yes. Isn't that pretty cool?”

“That's super cool. You okay with that many?” That's where his shock comes in. It’s a big order, bigger than anything I've, no we've, ever done. “Can we handle that big of an order?”

Without letting the smile slip, I nod my head. “It will take some preparation and planning, but I know we could pull it off. You in?”

“Of course. I can clear my schedule for whatever you need.”

“Thanks. You know how much I appreciate your help.”

It's only been a few weeks since I quit my job, and I haven’t baked every day. Pretty close to it, though. I’ve taken a dozen or so orders from people I know or friends of friends, for birthday parties mostly. Grayson's helped with all of the orders, following my lead. We did have one major tiff over the color of the frosting—he said teal and I said aquamarine and neither one of us were budging on our thoughts. Luckily Bella decided for us. I have to say, it was pretty hard to get the teal icing out of certain places after we made up.

The biggest order we’ve done remains the girls’ shower so to have to make more than double that amount, should stress me the hell out. But for some reason, it’s not. Like at all. And maybe that worries me just a tad.

“I will email her and get all the details. Maybe this will be the start of my new career.”

Grayson stops his hand mid-stride, halfway up my thigh. “Yeah?” he questions. “Something you've been thinking about?”

I nod, placing my hand on top of his. “This is a big order and if this goes well, I want to look into finding ways to expand my hobby into more of a business. Maybe.It’s just an idea I've been tossing around my head. I was waiting for an opening to talk to you about it, and this is the perfect one.” I know he can hear the hopefulness in my voice. I don’t have to say it; he knows me too well.

“I love it,” he tells me, moving his hand again. “And I love you.” He brings his face in to nuzzle my shoulder and quickly drops three kisses on my collarbone. He pulls his head away just to look at the clock. “Race you upstairs?” I don’t miss the hungry look in his eyes.

I grab my mug and push off my chair. “Go!” I yell out as I shove my arms out, pushing past to block him to make my way up to our bedroom, not even stopping to care about the coffee splashing out of the mug.

S o it turns out, baking close to three hundred cupcakes isn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be. I’m up early to get started, like six a.m. early, the time Grayson sometimes leaves for the gym. He couldn’t move his first two clients so he went to work while I got started .

My goal for the day was half. I figured that was doable. When Grayson gets home around eleven, the kitchen is not only a disaster, but I am as well.

He catches me muttering under my breath as he jumps up onto the counter to watch. That’s right, just to watch. When I take a batch out of the oven and turn to him, he’s got a wicked smile plastered on his face. “Hey,” he rasps. “Need some help, love?” His left eye winks at me, ever so slowly.

“Why did I think I could do this? What possessed me to say yes? I can’t handle this. I only have three dozen baked and I need like WAY more than that if I’m going to stay on track. This was a stupid idea. There’s no way this hobby can turn into a business…”

He cuts off my ranting by hopping down from the counter and grabbing my wrist. Luckily, I have already put the tray down on the stove to start to cool. He brings me in close to him and wraps his strong arms around me, clasping his hands behind my ass. “Hey,” he tries again, this time less jovial and more loving. I look up into his eyes, and I instantly calm. For the life of me, I can’t figure it out, but I’ve given up trying. He makes everything better. Always. Just by looking at him, my cares and worries fade away.

He unlatches his hands and wipes my cheek with the pad of this thumb. “Flour.” He chuckles when I question his gesture. “So, what were you saying? Something about you not being able to do this.”

I nod and lay my head on his chest. “I severely underestimated how much time this order would take.”

He shakes his head at me. “No you didn’t. That’s why you started today. You knew it was going to take a while. You planned it out. You’ve got this, love.” And just like that, with those words, I know that I can do it. And do it, I will.

I wrap my arms around his back and squeeze him before pulling myself out of his arms. “Go shower and then come back and help.” When he doesn’t start to move, I bat my eyes at him and add, “Please.”

He leans in and covers my lips with his own. When he starts to sneak his tongue inside my parted lips, I place my arms on his chest and push him away. “Later. We have cupcakes to bake.” Reluctantly, he starts to move away, but not before he places a kiss on the top of my head. I watch as he makes his way to the stairs, staring way longer than I can actually see him.

Smiling to myself, I take in my surroundings. The counters are a mess, there’s flour and sugar everywhere, well except the island. For some reason, I’ve never found myself using the island to prepare food. We eat there all the time; it’s just never become a place for prep work. There are twenty-four cupcakes stacked on cooling racks, and twelve more sitting in the tray. There’s a batch ready to put into the oven, so that’s where I start. I pop that batch into the oven and set the timer. And then I set to work on making more batter.

When Grayson finally reappears after his shower, I push all thoughts of how he looks—and smells—out of my mind to focus on the task at hand. I grab his apron off the hook and help him into it, ignoring the playful look and small noises he’s making, his version of a distraction. He tries one last-ditch effort at distracting me when he leans his head in close to mine to nibble my ear, but when I push him away once more, he harrumphs and then like a good partner, asks, “What do you need me to do?”

“A double batch of Salted Caramel.”

Without another sound, he gets right to work, choosing wisely to stay out of my way.

About five hours later, we have about thirteen dozen cupcakes baked. They will all be frosted in two days, so we start to make room in the freezer for the already baked ones. Fortunately, the freezer capacity is quite large so after some creative rearranging, the cupcakes will all fit once they have cooled.

Grayson pours me a mug of coffee and as he’s making me a grilled cheese sandwich, I say, “Sorry for panicking before.”

He just shakes his head. “I expected that,” he says, but quickly continues when he sees my fallen face. “Not in a bad way; just that I knew it would be overwhelming at first, but there’s no doubt in my mind that it wasn’t something you couldn’t handle.”

This man! I know it shouldn’t amaze me anymore, but it does. In all my life, Grayson is the only person who has ever “gotten” me. Ever.

“Okay,” I offer back to him with a smile. It’s all I can muster at the moment without cracking.

When he places the grilled cheese in front of me, he leaves a kiss on the top of my head. He goes back over to make a sandwich for himself and calls over his shoulder, “Hey, darling, you want to talk about our wedding yet?”

I freeze up, the sandwich halfway to my mouth. I have been avoiding talking about it, not because I don’t want to marry Grayson, but because I don’t know what I want. Well, I do know what I want, finally, but he doesn’t want it to be just our immediate family and close friends. Crazy, right? He wants to have this big-ass wedding. Who he plans to invite is beyond me. And that’s why I’ve avoided talking about it with him. Because he’s not budging on his ideas in the slightest. I don’t want to argue about our wedding, so I ignore it. At least he hasn’t brought it up in a while, thankfully.

I look over to him, a hopeful expression on his face. “How about this?” I start. “Let’s pick a date today.” Hopefully that should suffice. For now.

“Let’s hear your ideas.”

I take a bite of the sandwich and once I’ve swallowed say, “How about April?”

He shakes his head and turns his nose up at that. “That’s too far away,” he chides.

“Let me finish.” He shoots me a look and then zips his lips. “How about April twenty-fifth?”

He contemplates the date for a minute or two, and for a split second I don’t think he’s going to figure out why I’ve picked that date. And then his face lights up. “Yes, that works. I’m holding you to it.” He grins in my direction, flipping his sandwich .

I smile in victory. It’s a small one, but it’s a victory nonetheless. Until he adds, “Okay, where?”

“Grayson!” I squeak. “I picked a date. Let me be for at least an hour, or a few weeks,” I mumble under my breath.

He grudgingly gives in. “Okay. That only gives us like five months to plan so don’t think we won’t be discussing more of the details in the next few days.”

“Fine,” I concede, knowing that I will just put it off when he brings it up again. “How did you know about the day?” I’m really curious to why he agreed so rapidly.

“It took me a minute to figure out, not going to lie. I mean, of course I remember it was April when we met, but not the actual date. But then I remembered that my parents’ wedding anniversary was on the twentieth and knew it hadn’t passed that long ago when I was in the bar that night. So I just put two and two together. Smart, right?” He looks over at me, wanting confirmation that he is indeed, a smart cookie.

“So smart,” I confirm. And then the enormity of what he just told me dawns on me. “Oh. We can pick another date if you’d rather, if it’s too close to your parents’ date.” Selfishly, I don’t want him to take it back. I want to marry him on the day we met, the day my life changed forever. The day our first kiss became my last “first kiss.”

Not knowing whether he sees it written on my face or if he truly feels the same way I do, he shakes his head. As he walks over with his sandwich and sits down, he says, “I think it’s a perfect date, Ainsley. Even if my parents were still here, it would be the perfect date.”

“Okay, good.” The relief I feel is evident in my tone. “Glad that’s settled. I would have taken a few more weeks to come up with a date if you had said no.” I can’t help but chuckle.

He glowers over at me. “Real funny, Ainsley,” is all he mumbles before scarfing down his sandwich.

The next day, we finish up the order for the cupcakes. I haven’t quite figured out how we are going to deliver them, but luckily Grayson has the forethought to think it all through.

He manages to fit all three hundred plus cupcakes into the back of the Explorer. Once he’s done that for me, he hands over the keys. “They’re expecting you at the museum. Park around the back and go in through the back door. There should be a few guys there to unload them for you.”

“You aren’t coming with me?” I inquire, hoping he can hear and see my surprise.

“I have an errand to run.”

“You can’t run it after?” It’s not that I need him for this, but I would love his help. Plus, it just means spending more time with him.

“Sorry. I’ll meet you back home later tonight.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head. “Love you.” He tosses that out, almost as an afterthought. So weird, I think. Something’s up with him.

Realizing that I don’t have much time to get these cupcakes delivered, I climb up into the driver’s seat and drive off to the museum.

At the museum, I follow Grayson’s instructions and park around back. Before I’ve made it out of the car, Mary, the woman who placed the order, has come out of the back door and is walking up to my car. Even though I’ve never met her, she wraps her arms around me and pulls me into a hug.

“Ainsley!” she booms. “It’s so great to finally put a face to a name. I can’t thank you enough for baking the cupcakes and delivering them as well.”

“It’s my pleasure,” I tell her. “Hopefully they’ll be a big hit.”

“I have no doubts that they will. Lydia can’t stop raving about the ones she had at Bella’s shower. It takes a lot to get her to rave about something.” Her smile grows bigger.

As we are talking, a few men come out from inside the museum, one of them pushing some sort of cart. I walk around to the back of the car and open up the trunk. In a short amount of time, the cupcakes are loaded onto the cart and are being wheeled inside to be set up.

“Do you need my help with the display?” I ask Mary.

“No, we should be all set.” She hands me an envelope with the payment. “Thank you again. I know I will be in touch with you in the future.” She smiles at me.

“Thank you. Please send me a picture of the final display and email me any feedback about the cupcakes. I would appreciate it.”

“Sure thing,” she confirms. “It was a pleasure working with you.”

“You too. Enjoy the event.” I walk around to the front of the car, as she heads back inside the museum. I toss the envelope on the passenger’s side, start the car up, and drive back home to wait for Grayson, all the while trying to figure out what’s up with him.

When I get back home, Grayson isn’t home yet. I go inside and take a seat at the table. Opening up the envelope, I squawk at the amount of the check. It is way more than what we agreed on. Like, a lot more. I don’t have a chance to fully let it sink in before I hear the garage door open, and soon, Grayson is walking through the door. When he sees my stunned look, his face goes to concerned.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, coming closer to me. He doesn’t take a seat but leans up against the island.

I don’t even have the words to answer him; I’m still in that much shock, so I just hand the envelope over to him. He peers inside but either the amount doesn’t register or he doesn’t even look at the amount. He looks back over to me. “What?” His questioning tone is one of confusion as well.

“Do you see how much money that check is for?” He looks back in at the check and yet his look still doesn’t change.

“Yeah, so?”

I try as best I can to make him understand the shock I feel. “Grayson, that is way more money than she agreed to. Like five hundred dollars more than she agreed to. She didn’t even look at the cupcakes when I delivered them nor did she taste them yet. They could be horrible! ”

He comes over to the table and takes a seat on the chair next to me. Placing the envelope on the table, he motions for me to come onto his lap. When I don’t move quick enough, he practically drags me up onto his knees. Well, that’s one way to knock the shocked look off my face.

Once he settles me onto his lap, he brings his hands to my face turning it toward his, forcing my eyes to look into his. He runs one hand through my hair; the other gently caresses my face. Then he begins talking, all the while making sure that I am paying attention to him.

“Darling, one of these days I’m going to get you to truly understand your worth. You deserve that money, all of it. You worked damn hard to earn it. Even though it was more than what was agreed on, it shouldn’t come as a shock to you that she gave you more. You are worth it.”

As I listen to his words, I could argue. I could argue and tell him that I’m not, that despite what he thinks about me, I may never be worth it. But for once in my life, I try to let his words just sink in.

I lay my head against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart. I wrap my arms around his waist and his arms embrace me. “Okay,” I whisper, giving in and letting go of the shock. I feel his chin rest on the top of my head as he takes a deep breath. After a few minutes, he unwraps his hands from around me and then untangles mine from him. He pushes me back slightly, a bemused look on his handsome face. I’m about to ask him what the look is for when I remember his “errand” from before. “Hey, what was so important that you couldn’t help me deliver the cupcakes?”

The grin starts to fade from his face, but he quickly recovers back to being giddy. Without answering my question, he tips his face down and plants his lips on mine, barely giving me a second to realize what he’s doing. I try to push him away, while I try to break the kiss, mumbling, “Not funny, Gray,” but I’m not successful in the slightest. Instead, he’s pushing back from the chair, wrapping my legs around his middle and carrying me away, all the while still sucking my face.

For the second time today, I give in to this man. The man who has stolen my heart in more ways than one.