You’re Still The One by Erika Kelly

Chapter Fifteen

Griffin stood at his window,gazing up at a sky full of glittering stars. With Thanksgiving two days away, the Pilsons were picking up Austin the day after tomorrow, and he was worried.

If he could get ahold of Peyton, he could have his friend talk to them, tell them to ease up, or they’d be seeing much less of their grandson.

Movement in the carriage house caught his attention, and when Stella came to the window and looked up at him, his pulse quickened. She pressed her hand to the glass, and he could feel the ghost of that touch on his chest.

Wanted it there.

Wanted her.

All of her.

He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and hit her number.

When she stepped away to answer, the gauzy curtain swung shut “Hey. How’d it go tonight?”

“He doesn’t open up to me the way he does with you.” He willed her to come back to the window, needed to see her.

She didn’t make him wait long. “Did you tell him he doesn’t have to go there for Thanksgiving?”

“I did, but he said he’d go. He’s told me it makes things worse when he speaks up for himself or defies them.”

“Defies them. Can you imagine? Not going along with everything they ask of him is viewed as defiance? I would love to give them a piece of my mind.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind if he spends time with them, but I don’t want him spending the night anymore.” He touched his forehead to the cold glass. “Nothing’s going to change, though, until I talk to Peyton.”

“You worried about him?”

“Yes.” How could he be anything but?

“And it’s only been three weeks.”

“Right, and he said it could be as long as six weeks.” Which also meant he could come back online before that. “I just want to talk to him before the holidays. The less time Austin spends with his grandparents, the better.” He needed her here, with him. The distance physically hurt. “You eat dinner?”

“Well, I had a really nice salad I found in my mini fridge. I seem to have a secret chef who loads it up every now and then. Wonder who it could be?”

He couldn’t deny how good it made him feel to know she had something to eat when she worked such long hours.

“I can see that, you know. That sexy little man-grin you try so hard not to show.”

He broke into a full-on smile. “I’m not hiding anything. Hey, speaking of shows. Thank you for not doing yoga in your living room tonight. There’s only so much a man can take.”

“I prefer to save those kinds of activities for when there isn’t a fourteen-year-old boy in the house.”

“I could send him to boarding school.”

She laughed. And when emotion took up too much space inside him, he went quiet.

She went quiet, too, and it made him wonder…why did he only notice his beating heart when she was around?

Because she is my heart.

She just is.

“Stella?”

“Yes?” Her voice was all breathy, a little eager, a little scared.

“You want me to make you some tea?”

“Yes. Very much.”

The urgency pounded like a drum in his throat. “What kind?”

“Anything. I want anything you have to give.”

Fuck. This woman.“Get over here.”

He disconnected, let the curtain fall shut, and headed downstairs. Body strung tight, he felt brittle, like if he tripped and fell, he’d shatter. By the time he hit the kitchen, she was there. In her leggings, fluffy slippers, and an oversize sweatshirt, she was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman.

She gazed up at him, that look in her eyes that made his blood heat. And he kissed her. Oh, hell, did he kiss her. It all came roaring out of him, the desire, the need. It broke down the restraints he’d put in place to guard his heart from this reckless, wonderful woman.

But she wasn’t reckless. He just couldn’t control her, and that was his issue, not hers. Because Stella was fierce. And he wanted that fierceness—wanted to taste it on his tongue and feel it in her touch. He wanted it in his bed, and he wanted it in his life.

Cupping her ass, he lifted her onto the counter. Stepping between her legs, he slid his hands under her sweatshirt to feel the warm, smooth skin of her back.

She scraped her fingernails across his scalp and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. His heart thundered, and a current of hot pleasure ran through him. When she reached between them and rubbed his hard cock, he growled.

She pulled her mouth away. “I don’t want Austin to catch us.”

“Good point.” He scooped her off the counter and, never taking his mouth off hers, carried her to the door. Pressing her against the wall in the mudroom, he ground his cock against her hot center, and she rocked her hips, tugging fistfuls of his hair.

One hand under her ass, he reached for the doorknob.

“Wait.” Her tone cut through his hunger.

“I don’t want to be with you if you’re going to pretend like nothing happened. Like last time. You can’t mess with me, Griffin. I want…I want everything with you.”

He tipped his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to keep everything together for Austin, and I keep telling myself I can’t have any complications. But I want you, sweetheart. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you—”

“I know you want me. That’s not what I’m saying. You have to accept me the way I am. You have to know…this is me.”

“The worst thing I’ve ever done is make you feel like you’re not good enough. You’re the best person I know, and I’m so fucking lucky you want to be with me. I want to try with you, okay? Can we do that? Can we try again?”

“I’m not the one who has to answer that question. If you can’t get over what I did when I was eighteen, then I’m not sure—”

He kissed her hard and fast. “It hurt. Knowing you’d moved on so quickly destroyed me. And I held onto those pictures for seven years. But now that you’re back, now that we’ve spent time together…I know you couldn’t have loved anyone the way you love me. Because I know us. I know what we are, what we’ve been, and what we’ll always be.”

She wrapped her hands around his neck and kissed him until he was hot and frantic to feel more of her. Reaching behind her, he felt for the doorknob and stepped outside.

She wriggled her hips. “Put me down.”

“Like hell, I will.” Shutting the door behind him, he made his way carefully down the stairs, loving the feel of her arms around his neck, the jiggle of her tits against his chest. “Fuck, it’s cold.” In his T-shirt, sweatpants, and bare feet, he dashed across the freezing patio, shoveled clear of snow, across the patch of icy grass, to her front door.

He hurried in, kicking it shut behind him. “I can be nice and take you to bed, or I can strip you right here and bend you over the couch.”

“If you take the time to carry me into the bedroom, I’ll think you don’t like me very much.” Twisting free, she got down and went straight for the curtains, whisking them shut.

By the time she’d turned back around, his sweats had dropped to his ankles.

Her expression went hot, hungry. “Commando. That’s so hot.” She stripped off her sweatshirt and yanked down her leggings, standing before him in nothing but sexy black lace panties. No bra.

“Jesus.” He lost his mind for this woman.

When her hands went to the waistband, he advanced, batting them away. Gripping her hips, he spun her around, pressing on her lower back and bending her over the arm of the couch. He dropped to his knees, pulling one side of her panties aside to reveal a perfect ass cheek. It was so plump, he smacked it, just to watch it jiggle. She was delicious. Every inch of this woman turned him the fuck on.

She shifted restlessly, popping her ass out, clearly wanting more.

“Temptress.” He took a bite of her peachy flesh.

“Come on, Griffin. God. I’ve waited so long.”

“And you’ll wait longer.” He teased a finger along her slick, hot center, loving how aroused she was. Peeling off the panties, he let them fall to the carpet, as he spread her open and licked her clit.

She cried out, her body shuddering, and he eased two fingers inside her—fuck, she was wet—and licked her into a frenzy, until her legs shook, her cries turned frantic, and she buried her head in the cushion.

Every twist of her hips, every moan, wound him tighter, sent him closer to the edge, and he had to grip his cock to relieve the pressure. He loved the taste and smell of her, loved the way she let herself go so completely.

Loved them.

Together, they were fire.

And then she came on his tongue, her hips writhing, as she cried out. “Oh, my fucking God.”

When she finished, her knees buckled.

As he stood, he swatted her ass. “You been tested?”

“Huh?”

“Condom or no?”

That perked her up. “Oh, I’m clean, and I’m on the pill.” She swished her ass, as she peeked at him through the curtain of blonde hair that fell across her eyes. “Do it.”

“I haven’t been with anyone in a while, so this is going to be fast.” A hand on her hip, he gripped his cock and lined himself up. “And hard.” He eased into her, a gentle push and retreat, covering his cock with her slickness. With every press into her hot channel, electrical explosions lit him up. Back when he was nineteen, he’d always used a condom with her. Couldn’t risk a pregnancy.

But now? He wanted everything with this woman. Whatever happened…he was done fighting.

Once he’d reached as deep as he could go, he took a moment to watch his cock slide in and out of her, and desire ignited him into a fervor. Pulling all the way out, he choked out, “Brace.”

Her eyes flared, and a shudder went through her. With a punch of his hips, he thrust back in, letting his hand travel up that beautiful back, taking in her hourglass shape. He reached under and cupped her full breast, squeezed it, and thumbed the nipple.

“So good.” That voice, coated in sex, fueled him. “Harder.”

He gave it to her. Fingers digging into her hips, he yanked her back onto his cock, as he pounded into her. He’d never felt anything so good. With her, he’d never had to hold back. She took it all and gave right back.

Combustible, explosive…she made him lose control.

Nothing made Griffin lose control. Nothing.

Except this woman.

Every time he slammed into her, her ass bounced, her neck arched, and she moaned like she was lost in erotic bliss. The tension ramped up until he couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything but the frantic imperative to come.

And there it was, the tingling, the pressure at the base of his spine. He clamped onto her and slammed home, hips punching, each blast of his release a shock to his system.

His vision went white, and he soared right out of his body into a state of euphoria.

Griffin must’ve dozed because the bathroom light startled him. It flicked off, and Stella came back to the bed. He felt sated, content.

She pulled back the covers and slid in next to him, curling up when he wrapped an arm around her. But he could feel the tension in her body. She wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon.

“You okay?” He trailed his fingertips down her inner forearm.

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

Which of course, woke him all the way up. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well.” She drew the word out like taffy. “Princess Rosalina came in today.”

“Okay.” He kissed her temple.

She drew in a breath. “You’re the last person I should talk about this with but the only one I want to talk to.”

“She’s not canceling, is she?” She and Brodie were rock solid, so that wouldn’t be the issue. Unless… “Do they not trust anyone but Diane to run the wedding? Because that’s not on you. Diane put you in an impossible situation.”

“Look at you, always rushing in to protect me. No, she’s not cancelling. But her wedding’s in two weeks, and I could tell she was dreading it.”

Oh, shit, Stella. What have you done?He hiked up on an elbow. “You could tell?”

“Yes, and I was right, so don’t look at me like that. That’s why I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“But I’m the only person you want to tell. So, go on.”

“She came in to see if I’d throw a party for her close friends, and the more we talked, the clearer it became that she wasn’t happy about her wedding. Her mom had taken over, and Rosie’s vision got lost in the process.”

“And I’m guessing you resurrected Rosie’s vision for her?” That’s so Stella. She knows what you want, and she makes it happen for you.

She ran her fingertips over his chest, and he broke out in goosebumps. “Yes, but only because Rosie had been very clear about what she wanted, and her mom and Diane ignored her. They wound up recreating the royal wedding, only this time in Calamity.”

He didn’t like to see her so full of anxiety. “So, you found a way to give her the wedding of her dreams?”

Her searching gaze told him she wasn’t sure if he was mocking her, but he wasn’t, and when she saw it, the tension in her shoulders eased. “I told her we could keep the ceremony in the church, but instead of the grand ballroom, we could have the reception at Wild Billy’s.”

“What’s that now? You told the princess of St. Christophe to have her reception in a bar?”

“Well, when you say it like that…” She gave a nervous laugh. “No, but listen, I can transform the place. The reason I missed dinner with you guys tonight is because I talked to the owners. They’re actually really excited about it. So, you know how it’s got three sections? We’re going to turn the bar area into a formal dining room for the royal family. We’ll make it every bit as fancy as the Grand Ballroom.”

“I can picture that.”

“Right? And we’re transforming the whole place. We’ll borrow chandeliers from Carter’s—you know that fancy lighting shop in Jackson? And we’ll polish the floor, so it looks shiny and new, hire a band and do line-dancing, and we’ll let the guests ride the mechanical bull.” It all came out in a rush like she was ripping duct tape off a hairy arm.

It was hard for him to see her so worried and not want to make things better. “And she agreed to this?”

“She loved it. I’m telling you she was so relieved we’d found a compromise.”

“You. You found the compromise. Which was Diane’s job, so it sounds like a win. What’s the problem?”

She gave him a genuine smile this time. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that. I’m pretty sure Diane won’t agree, though. She might fire me.”

“Is she happy with your work so far?”

“I think so.”

“Are you happy being there?”

“I love it. I love it more than anything I’ve ever done.” She kissed his chest. “Except having sex with you. That’s the bomb.”

He lowered back down, and she nestled in against him again. His hand caressed down her back, cupped her ass, and he drew her even closer. “There’s nothing like it.”

“I’ve just been so out of my depths with all of this, but my dad used to say something that I try to keep in mind. Whenever I was overwhelmed, he’d tell me to be methodical about it. I know that sounds obvious, but it calms me down to know that there might be a hundred things on my calendar that need to get done, but I can only tackle one of them at a time.” She looked away. “I just…I haven’t told Diane yet, and I could punch myself in the face for just blurting out my idea before running it by her.”

“Diane’s not here. She hired you to run the place in her absence, and that’s what you’re doing. You can’t effectively run the business if you’re getting her approval for every move you make. She hired you. That means she trusts you to make decisions.”

“Well, this one involves a king and a queen. It could make or break her business.”

“Possibly, but if they’re not happy with the reception, isn’t that on Rosie, not you? She’s a grown woman who makes her own choices. If she comes back tomorrow saying she’s changed her mind, it’s not worth upsetting her mom, are you going to back off, or are you going to push her into following your new plan?”

“No, I won’t push. I don’t think she’ll be happy with her mom’s plans—like, what’s the point of doing the same thing all over again? But I won’t argue with her final decision.”

“Then, as far as I can see, you’re good. Your job is to give brides the wedding of their dreams. This bride wasn’t happy, so you changed things. You made her happy. Diane can’t fault you for that. In fact, she’ll have to credit you for it and kick herself in the ass for kowtowing to the bride’s mom.”

“God, Griffin.” She flung her arm across his chest and hugged him. “Thank you. I thought you’d tell me I’d gone and done it again, that I should stop being so impulsive.”

“I don’t want you to stop being anything, sweetheart. You’re amazing. You’re perfect.”

“I want to believe you. I do. I’m just afraid…”

“Yeah, I know. But this time, I know what it’s like to be without you. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

* * *

Stella lounged in Griffin’s arms.

Repeat: I’m lounging on the couch with the love of my life, acting like we’re an old married couple. And I’ve got an engagement ring on my finger.

It almost felt real, like those seven years had never happened. Like they’d stayed together as she’d always hoped they would.

But it wasn’t real.

Because no matter how perfect this moment felt, she lived with a niggling fear that if she made one mistake—well, come on, she knew they were more than mistakes. Kissing Trace? Pretending they were engaged?

Pretty big whoppers. And for another man, maybe they wouldn’t be reasons to break up with someone you loved. But for Griffin, who’d watched his friend plummet to the ground, who’d sat with him in pain so agonizing he’d passed out, it was a whole other story. Especially since the accident never should’ve happened. They’d made a reckless, stupid mistake that had nearly cost Booker his life.

It had cost him his dreams of playing in the NHL.

So, yeah, she understood why Griffin had become cautious. And that, combined with being the oldest of seven…well, the man had legitimate triggers.

But it wasn’t like she could snap her fingers and stop being impetuous. She’d do something again.

She believed they were wired for each other. She believed he cared about her, wanted her, even needed her. In bed, they were explosive.

But she could no more change her impulsive nature than he could change his need to control situations. The very things they loved about each other were what could drive them apart.

Which meant she’d dive right in, immerse herself in all this gooey loveliness—and try not to run this joyride off the rails.

Griffin lowered his book, listening to Austin strum. “Best thing I ever did was buy him a new guitar.”

“He’s good, too.” She sat up a little straighter. “I still can’t believe they took his last one away. What a terrible thing to do. I mean, his dad gave it to him. What right did they have? They’re such awful people.”

“I agree, but the weird part is that they believe they’re doing what’s best for him. When they destroyed his guitar, they thought they were saving him from going down the wrong path. In their minds, they helped him.”

“That’s awful. You’d think you’d change your ways if your own child cut you off.”

“True, but when Peyton got their daughter pregnant, he was a hard-partying bass player in a grunge band. So, I believe they’re genuinely trying to keep Austin from going down that path.”

“You have a nice way of looking at things.”

“The difference between us is that when you care about someone, you want to fix the world for them. I want to keep them locked in my basement.”

She laughed. “You’re not that bad.” She pretended to look scared. “Are you?” She started to get up. “I mean, I’ve never really been in the basement. Should I be worried?”

He yanked her back down. “Oh, come on. You know I have to reveal my secrets to you slowly, over time.” He patted her hair clunkily with his big paw, and she pushed him away.

“Creeper.” She kissed him on the mouth. “But you’re my creeper, so if you’ve got people in the basement, I’ll make sure to double my next batch of enchiladas.”

“See what a good team we make?”

“The best.” She deepened the kiss, smoothing the hair off his face. But they heard a voice…and she pulled back. “Oh, my God, is he singing?”