Grissom (In the Company of Snipers #26)

Chapter Twenty

They lay quietly on the guestroom bed, catching their breaths, their arms and legs tangled, and their heartbeats in sync while the overhead light bathed them in soft LED. Tuesday’s warm breath fanned over his chest. Grissom wasn’t in a hurry. They still needed to have a talk about birth control, but that could wait. What she’d just given him, allowing him to be the first man to explore her exquisite body, knocked the wind out of him. But when she said he was all hers? He’d damned near bawled like a baby.

The only honest love he’d ever known hadn’t come until Tanner was born. His dad used to say the right words. He was good at talking about how much he loved Grissom, but not once had he proved it by being brave enough to save his son by leaving his wife. That would’ve been hard, sure. But real men protected their children from bullies and the chaos they eagerly inflicted on everyone around them. Even when those bullies were family and standing up to them was hard. Especially then.

Grissom couldn’t help wondering what kind of man he’d be if his dad had, even once, manned up and stood up to his mother. If he’d ever protected his only child from witnessing the cruelty that woman had dished out. What she was probably still dishing out.

Instead of growing up carefree and innocent, playing baseball during summer break, like those kids in that “Sandlot” movie, he’d been stuck at home every winter, spring, and summer break doing chores. Every day. Scrubbing floors and toilets on his hands and knees—because that’s how his mom’s mother always did it. Washing dishes by hand for the same dumb reason. Fixing meals, breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. Dusting like a damned maid. Every day. He’d been his mother’s slave, while his spineless dad had been the whipping boy for any and everything that didn’t go like his mom wanted.

Even when the toilet backed up because she flushed her ‘feminine products.’ Another rule from Grand-Mommy-Dearest: Those damned ‘feminine products’ had to be called that and only that, not tampons, pads, or napkins. Hell no, every damned thing in that hell house had to be said or done ‘the right way.’ Grand-Mommy-Dearest’s way.

Grissom now knew how sick his grandmother and her daughter were, and that the best things for his dad would be plenty of distance and counseling. He might be weak, but he’d also taken the brunt of Grissom’s mom’s physical and verbal abuse long enough.

Tuesday was right. A safe house for abused men was an incredibly smart, thoughtful, and compassionate idea. His old man did need a way out, and Grissom meant to give it to him. To at least offer a way out. Funding was a huge obstacle, though, and Grissom would never hit up his boss for a cent. Alex Stewart was a well-known philanthropist in these parts. He could fund the entire project and not think twice about it, but Grissom needed to do this for his dad on his own.

Just like this over-priced house. There might’ve been more affordable options on the market. But Tanner and Luke had needed a home fast and his buddy, TEAM Agent Taylor Armstrong had one available.

Grissom had never carried this much debt before, but after Costa Rica, giving his sons a fresh start quickly, had been important. Fortunately, Taylor had recently finished building his latest house and it ended up being a mere two miles from TEAM HQ. It’d never been a priority to live close to his job, but Grissom was fine with the location. Taylor knew construction, and given his side gig, restoring aged Victorian mansions throughout northern Virginia, Grissom grabbed onto the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with both hands.

After a frenzied week of dealing with the bank, shopping for food and other necessities, and moving in, Grissom and his boys went back to the place they’d once called home. He’d wanted Tanner and Luke to grab the few things they treasured, toys and such. But stepping inside and seeing the nasty violence Pam had wreaked on all they’d once held dear, was a wake-up call for both boys. It was a tough day that brought a shit-ton of closure. The boys cried while they’d dug through the debris in their shared room for their toys. Fortunately, Pam hadn’t known Tanner kept his art supplies in an old box in the garage.

Thankfully, Murphy stepped in with TEAM muscle then. The house in Crystal Spring was now repainted, re-carpeted, and on the market. Good riddance. The TEAM stepped in again with used furniture and free labor, while the TEAM wives kept everyone fed during the moving-in process. His new mortgage was a killer, but once he went back to work and after the old house sold, things would even out. Somehow.

For now, he was one contented man. Whatever Tuesday wanted, he’d get it for her. The pleasure of being hers made him smile. She’d humbled the hell out of him with that simple, “Me, too,” back in the kitchen. Then she’d made a man out of him by letting him love on her sexy body. She loved him like his boys did. Freely. Without reserve. Without qualification. She just—she just loved him. And she didn’t have to say it. He knew. He could tell.

“You awake?”

Grissom knew she was smiling by the glow in her question. Quickly, he brushed a hand over his face and manned up before she saw the tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. “Yup. You ready for round two?”

“As a matter of fact… yes.” Pushing up from the bed, she slid one leg over his stomach and straddled him.

Grissom settled her over his hips. Cupping her jaw, he kissed and nibbled while he stretched his legs between hers. “I think we’ve done enough for your first time,” he whispered. “I’m a big guy. It will hurt.”

She squirmed beneath him. “But Grissom…”

He loved when she whined like a little girl not getting her way. “It’ll hurt, so no. We’ll wait until you’re rested and ready.”

“Awww. How long will that take?” Again with that adorable whine from a woman who should be on the cover of every high-class fashion magazine. A woman who should’ve been a helluva lot more experienced with men, not stuck in desolate climes by herself. What was up with that, anyway? No woman, especially one as young as Tuesday, should ever work alone or travel unaccompanied to far-off places, some of them warzones. Not that Grissom wasn’t thankful for the solitude that had saved her for him. Maybe he was a greedy pig after all. But the question begged answering. Who was Robert Freiburg and what was he up to?

“You were right before,” he answered, licking a circle around one diamond-hard tip, his palms pushing both breasts together so he could play with them at the same time. Forsaking that nipple, he turned his head and slurped the other. “This thing between us is happening awfully fast.” Suck. Kiss. Nibble. Nibble. Tease. “I want you to be absolutely sure of what you’re agreeing to before we take the next step.”

Tuesday’s chest lifted in his hands with her petulant sigh. “But I am sure.”

Wasn’t that the greatest? Her, a spoiled brat. Him, the reasonable one. Him? The crazy guy with no impulse control, who usually panicked, and until now, had messed up everything?

Stepping back and analyzing the pros and cons of situations before jumping to conclusions wasn’t a new concept. It was an Army-taught life skill he’d forgotten and had to relearn in counseling, how to control himself in order to better manage life with his boys. To be the adult in every situation, never the aggressor, just because he was bigger. To never engage in power struggles with children, but to stay true to what he knew was right for them. To be gentle, kind, and empathetic. To put others first, no matter how old or small they were. To believe in his kids so they could learn to believe in themselves. That was how boys became men instead of bullies, perverts, and pedophiles. With plenty of parental trust and the right kind of teaching. With love. Always with love. Like he told his boys: Every time. Anytime.

Popping her nipple free from the suction of his hot mouth, Grissom pressed his chin between her breasts. “This is play, love. This, right here. What we’re doing with each other now.”

“I like naked play,” she purred, rubbing her sweet-smelling flesh against his face, her neck flushed the prettiest pink.

“Have I created a sex maniac?” Hey, a man could wish.

Her deep breath encompassed his cheeks in a lush, warm fragrance. One part roses. The rest all Tuesday. Delicate fingers gently massaged the knots he’d never realized had all but locked his neck muscles into stiff ridges. Or maybe, those muscles relaxed because her touch was magic.

“I only know I like the here and now we’ve created,” she murmured, her green eyes soft and hazy. “I’m not afraid of you, Grissom. I believe in you. I trust you.”

She. Trusts. Me.

“Fuck,” he hissed, so damned raw, but mostly proud as shit. “I wish I’d met you years ago. My life would’ve been so different.” He knew, even after just one day, that Tuesday had never manipulated anyone in her life. She didn’t know how. She simply was who she was, kind and honest with a heart as big as the great outdoors. And she’d just given him the power to break her heart—or die protecting it.

Her fingers smoothed around his head to cup his jaws. “That would’ve been perfect. Maybe we should invent a time machine, go back and do things differently,” she whispered, her torso curled forward as she kissed the tip of his nose. “But then you wouldn’t have Tanner and Luke, and I’m sorry, that’s just not acceptable. I love those kids.”

Grissom squeezed his eyes shut. It was either that or bawl like a baby, which he seemed to be doing a lot since he’d met Tuesday. What she said explained a helluva lot, and once again, she was right. Every single mistake he’d ever made, every wrong turn and stinking deployment, had brought him to her. They were two magnets, drawn through time and circumstance to each other. To love. Was that destiny or density? He no longer cared, as long as he ended up with Tuesday.

“There are no do-overs in life.” Lifting her chin, she pressed her lips between his brows. “There’s only us four kids, and we’re doing the best we can with what we’ve got. And right now, I’ve got everything I ever wanted. I’ve got you.”

The flowery scent of her hair floating over his face caressed Grissom like irresistible angel wings. It was time to change the subject before he broke down.

“So, umm…” He hugged her tight, giving himself time to breathe and calm down. He’d only ever been this emotional when his boys were born, and these feelings were wearing on his good intention to not roll her over and rut like a caveman.

“Umm” —what was I going to say? Oh, yeah— “I’ve been thinking about your idea. Thought I’d call Dad tomorrow and get a feel for how things are back home. You know, see if I can get an honest answer out of him. See if he’d be interested in making a change, maybe moving into a safe house, maybe even helping us put one together.”

“Why don’t you just invite your parents for a visit? You have a big house. Maybe then, you and your dad could talk, while me and your mom—”

“No,” snapped out of Grissom before he could stop it. He shook his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean that how it sounded, but I don’t want Mom inside this house. It’s Tanner’s and Luke’s safe place. I can’t let her take over, like I know she will.”

Tuesday’s fingers never missed a beat as they soothed over his suddenly tense scalp and neck. “Okay, no problem. Whatever you decide. You know them better than I do, and honestly, I’m afraid I’d hurt your mom if she made even one teensy mean comment about you or your boys.”

“Which she would the second she arrived.”

“Which would get her smacked, trust me.”

Grissom chuckled. “You smack many people in your life?”

Still lying on her back, Tuesday smiled shyly. “No, but I’ve put down a couple of belligerent bullies before, and I know how to stand my ground, Mr. McCoy. What are your parents’ names? You just call them Mom and Dad. Want to share?”

Oh, fuck, did he want to share. Just. Not. Them. But Tuesday deserved to know so Grissom settled for a terse, “Randy and Vivian McCoy. Dad’s a janitor at a private hospital between Portland and Vancouver, and my mom’s a, a housewife.” If that was what you called being a prima donna who did nothing all day but expect everyone to kiss her ass.

“Which is a noble career choice, motherhood. A full-time mom is better than an army of babysitters. She’s never worked outside the home?”

“Nope.” Grissom let the P pop. “That’s Dad’s job, according to the Book of Mom.”

“Then…” Tuesday ran her fingers down Grissom’s neck to his collarbones, and he shivered like that ugly, three-legged ugly dog again. He was caught in the gentlest snare, one he savored instead of fought. One he craved. She was breathing on him and her eyes sparkled like green fireflies in the middle of a dark night. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear there was magic in the air.

“Then what?” he asked, striving to keep from pushing her legs apart and shoving deep into her body.

“Then what’s she do all day?”

“Nothing, as far as I know. But I haven’t kept in touch.” He didn’t want to explain how rotten his mother was. There. That did it. Just thinking about his mom halted the blood supply to his cock.

“Okay then, call your dad whenever you’re ready. I’ll support whatever you decide. In the meantime…” Tuesday yawned. “Mind if I sleep over? Just tonight? Then tomorrow, I’ll—”

“You’ll stay right here, woman. In my house.”

“But the boys—”

“The boys will be thrilled when they wake up and find you’re still here.”

“Well, okay.” She burrowed under his arm, her head on his shoulder. “If you insist.”

Grissom’s hand smoothed down her back to her warm, plump ass. “I insist. I finally found you; I’m not letting you go.”

“Hmmm,” she whispered, her fingers fluttering over his like tiny angel wings asking to come inside. Tipping forward, she pressed a kiss to his sternum, her lips so damned soft against his skin that tears brimmed again. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted the one with him now, and it wasn’t just for sex. He’d watched Tuesday work her gentle, loving kind of magic on his boys, and she’d sprinkled it on him. He was a goner. Standing, not falling. He was totally in love.

Threading his fingers into her hair, he closed his eyes and whispered, “Stay as long as you want, love.” Was it too soon to ask for forever?

“I will,” she murmured through a sleepy sigh.

“Promise me.”

“One more day, yeah, I can do that,” she whispered.

Grissom knew he was grasping at the only gold ring he’d ever stumble across in his life, but he wasn’t letting Tuesday go. Somehow, he’d convince her to stay tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that.