Page 48 of You Shouldn't Have Come Here

“Just fine. How are those clothes working out for ya, hon?”

“They’re holding up. Calvin’s got me riding horses and fishing in them.”

Calvin slid his card back into his wallet and pocketed it. He gave Betty a hug and whispered, “Missed you.”

“Happy birthday, sugar. I know today’s a complicated one but you enjoy it best you can,” she whispered back.

A complicated one? Why? Was it because of his parents?

“Thanks, Betty. Grace here has been keeping me happy.” He smiled and took a step back to put his arm around me. “Not sure what I’d do without her.”

Betty collected some items from her basket and placed them on the belt. “Look at you two getting along so well. You’re not going to want to leave, Grace.” She looked at me with a tight smile.

Charlotte let out a cough. “But youareleaving... right? In four days?”

I ignored her.

“Anyway,” Betty said, steering the conversation. “I was just here to pick up a few items for my famous honey cake, but I don’t wanna tie you two up. I’ll see ya later this afternoon.”

“I can’t wait. Your honey cake is heaven,” Calvin gushed.

“Oh, Calv. You sure know how to make an old lonely woman feel good about herself.” Betty blushed.

“You’re not old and you’ve got me,” he said, giving her a half hug. “I’ll see ya later.”

“Not if I see you first,” she said back with a wave and a small laugh.

The dynamic between Betty and Calvin was like mother and son, but Betty wasn’t his mother. His parents were dead. But Calvin never told me how they died. What happened to them, and were they the reason Calvin’s birthday was, as Betty put it, complicated?

26.

Calvin

I entered the kitchen with a towel wrapped around my waist—fresh from a hot shower. Grace stood at the stove with a wooden spoon in her hand. The smell of bacon and garlic entered my nose, and I breathed deeper, trying to get more of the best scents a kitchen could offer. I knew she’d ruin it soon with those brussels sprouts.

“Whatcha doing?” I asked.

She looked over her shoulder, and I think I almost saw her mouth drop open. Her eyes scanned my dripping wet body. I had done a poor job of drying off.

“Cooking up those brussels sprouts you love so much,” she said with a flirty smile.

Grace continued to stir her wooden spoon slowly, moving around the sautéed bacon and garlic, but her eyes stayed on me. I liked those eyes on me. That’s where they belonged.

I took a few steps into the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”

“A beer would be great.”

“You got it.” I pulled two cold ones from the fridge and popped the caps off. “Here.”

She took it from me, and we both tipped the beers back and drank—our eyes never breaking contact.

“Need any help?” I offered.

“No, Calvin. It’s your birthday. Let me worry about everything.”

She smiled, and it was inviting.

I took a step closer to her, pretending like I was trying to get a better look at the food she was cooking up, but what I wanted was more of Grace. She backed into me a little and turned her head, looking over her shoulder. When she didn’t jolt away or apologize, I knew this was the moment—our moment. I leaned down a few inches and kissed her. My lips were on hers, and all of a sudden, she was kissing me back. Her body turned toward me. Her hands went to my back, my chest, my stomach. Her mouth opened, and I slid my tongue in, circling around hers. She practically moaned. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her as close as she could possibly get to me. I could have crushed her to ashes—that’s how bad I wanted her. My hands ran through her hair and down her back, settling on her firm backside. She pushed me hard, and I let her, until I was thrust into the kitchen wall. The Sheetrock cracked behind me but I didn’t care. I’d fix it later, or maybe I’d leave it there to serve as a reminder of this very moment. The moment Grace became mine. One of my hands moved from her backside to her breast, grabbing it, caressing it. She moaned again. Her hand traveled down my chest, my abdomen, through the opening of the towel, and I grunted in pleasure when she gripped me. I moved my mouth to her cheek, then her neck, her ear—sucking and kissing—while her hand stroked and pulled.

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