Page 78 of Moonlit Colorado

“No, I should have. That’s on me. But it’s beyond depressing. That’s why I didn’t say anything.” Exactly like I’d told Margot earlier. I wanted this trip to be fun for Grace.

Lot of fun you’re being right now, Knightly, I scolded myself.

“I can handle depressing,” she said. “If you want to talk about it, I’m available.”

I cupped my hand at her cheek, dragging it down to the side of her neck, feeling her pulse thrum against my palm. She was so sweet. Maybe too sweet for me. Yet that truth only made me want her more.

How many times had I told Grace I wanted the chance to know her, and for her to know me?

“I can tell you the basics.” I was going to need whiskey for this, though. Grabbing her hand, I led her into the kitchen and opened my liquor cabinet. “Want a drink?”

“Just ice water.”

“I’ll grab you a glass. But I need something stronger.” I got Grace’s ice water, then a finger of whiskey for myself. Then I recalled what she’d said a few minutes ago, and there was a record scratch in my head.

“You were talking to Ainsley?” I asked.

She laughed. “It was fine. Bristol was awful to me, but Ainsley is kind of great. She said nice things about you. And also that you’re not her type and she has zero interest in you.”

I relaxed momentarily. “Wait, Bristol was awful?”

“Can we not talk about the bride and maid of honor? We will have plenty of wedding drama tomorrow.”

This time, it was Grace who took my hand, and we went into the living room. My lights were on timers, so just the floor lamps were on in here, emitting a soft, warm glow. I sat heavily on the couch, and Grace sat on the cushion beside me, kicking off her heels on the way.

But she wasn’t close enough. I hauled her right up against me and draped her legs over my lap. “That’s better.”

“You told me how your mom was an Olympic skier and a mountain climber,” Grace prompted. “And how your mom and dad met at Everest base camp.”

Half my whiskey went down in one gulp. A shame, given how expensive it was. “The highlight reel.”

“You wanted to focus on the happy parts of her life. Not the hard ones.”

“Yes.” And I was impressed that Grace understood that. Floored, actually. I’d spoken a little about Mom’s decline to Ashford and Emma, but that was different.

Gracewas different.

“My mother was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. She’s not doing well. That’s why she can’t be at the wedding.”

“Is she in a care facility?”

Another gulp of whiskey. “No, she lives at home. My parents’ apartment here in Manhattan. But she has twenty-four-hour care. Doesn’t leave the house much anymore. And I think that’s all I can say about it tonight.”

My arguments with Kip and my dad were too recent. It was all too raw, and Grace was already seeing more of my flaws than I’d ever intended.

Thankfully, she nodded. “That’s okay. If you want, I can take your mind off things.”

Interest swirled in my belly and went lower, pushing away the ache. “Oh yeah? I’d like that.”

She shifted so that she was straddling me, her hands going to my shoulders. “Today was one of the best days I’ve ever had.”

I squeezed her thigh with the hand that wasn’t holding my glass. “Same. Except for the dinner. Wish I could’ve skipped that part.”

“But we wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t needed a date to the wedding.”

“I’m not going to thank Kip for anything.”

“You don’t have to think about him at all.” Grace leaned forward to kiss my cheek, yet her hips also ground against me. A little sweet, a little filthy. Just like Grace herself. My cock thickened against the seam of my pants. “You were amazing to me today,” she said. “I have never felt so spoiled or so beautiful in my life.” Another light kiss, this one to my jaw.