Page 57 of Saving Grace

After the two lovebirds have had their fill, I rise from the bale of hay I sat myself down on and walk with them as Grace puts Trigger back in his stall. She unbuckles the halter, and he stands rooted to the spot as she says her goodbyes. Poor guy is lovestruck.

“Come on, gorgeous, leave him to his new crush.”

She smiles and kisses his forehead, rubbing a hand between his ears before walking out and closing the stall door behind her. She hangs the halter on the hook by his door, and I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “I think you’re Trig’s first love, Gracie.”

She beams up at me.

I kiss her forehead.

The gelding can take a number. This girl is mine.

Sweet Jesus . . .

Jealous of a damn horse. I drag a hand through my hair as we walk from the barn, and Grace stops abruptly. I falter to a standstill as she gives me an incredulous look.

“What?”

She huffs a laugh. “Nothing.”

“Not nothin’.”

“Never mind, I’m going for a shower before supper.” She glances at the house. “Would you...”

“Spit it out.”

She hovers on the spot, worrying her bottom lip through her teeth. “Can you—I mean, did you wanna join me?”

“Are you inviting me into your shower?”

She blinks, as if she can’t believe she said those words. With a sliver of hesitation, she steps into my space, tilts her head up, and looks me in the eyes. “Yes, Mackinlay, I want you in my shower.”

“Well, sure, if you ask nicely.” I grin at her.

Annoyance lines her scrunched-up face before she huffs, “Mack, will you please have a shower with me?”

“Nah, I’m good. Not dirty.”

Her mouth drops open, and she slaps my arm playfully.

I compose myself, tamping the smile trying to tug my lips up, and stand taller. “Okay, ask me again.”

“Hmmm.” Her eyes narrow. Then, as if something flipped in that beautiful brain of hers, her eyes turn from frustrated to fire. She undoes the top button of her shirt, then the next. Shirt fully open, a lacy cream bra with a sweet bow in the center covers her perfect skin. Those dusky rose nipples are hard and my mouth waters, wanting to be over themyesterday. I all but groan at the sight.

I know she has read the change in my composure and is going to exploit it. Because I want her to. Because I have been helping her own what she wants and take what she needs.

A sly smile blooms over her lips. She sweeps her hair around one shoulder and turns on her heel and walks away from me. Her shirt, still stuck between two fingers, flings over hershoulder and rests at her back. The world’s bestfollow meeyes home onto mine. “You coming, Mackinlay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Chapter Fifteen

GRACE

He’s big and so damn hard. The soft, velvety tip is heaven under my fingertips. I brush my thumb over it again, and the aching in my apex intensifies taking him in naked. Raw. The way I am, bare and on my knees for him.

“Fuck, Gracie.”

His legs tremble. The tile bites my knees as I take him into my mouth. I’ve never enjoyed doing this. But it’s completely different when you want to do something versus having to do it. The head is warm and soft and hard at the same time. It’s a literal oxymoron, hard and soft. Gentle and tough. So many ways to describe this man.

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