Chapter 18

We decidedto evaluate things for two full weeks before making a decision. I loved the idea, but I also hated it. Two weeks did not feel like long enough to get to know myself better. At the same time, it also felt way longer than necessary.

How had I reached my thirties without knowing who I truly was? I should’ve been secure in my identity by now. Not having the answers left me feeling bereft.

During the first day of keeping track of my feelings, I noticed how giddy I felt in the times leading up to seeing Weston. I originally thought it was from the crush I had on him. With my focus on evaluating my feelings, though, I realized it was only partially because of that.

Deep down, I enjoyed knowing that I was getting to take care of him. It was knowing that he would be pleased with my presence, and with whatever food I brought him.

I didn’t know what to make of the realization. Instead of dwelling on it, I focused on writing down every emotion in my notebook. The spiral bound pocket size bundle of paper had become my best friend. I had it on me at all times to ensure that I could catch things in real time.

By the third day, it was obvious to me that I did very much enjoy taking care of him. It wasn’t just knowing I was doing a good job. It was being able to feel a sense of accomplishment. I felt like less of a failure whenever I was getting things done.

I was reminded of my time on the ranch with those thoughts. Because even back then, I loved having a checklist. The guys used to make fun of me for it. I was so uptight about things, and that I had to note it all down.

How could I have forgotten about that part of myself?

I knew the answer, of course. When Clancy became sick, I had to step in as his caregiver. My entire focus was on hospital stays and medication. There was no time to create a checklist. And there wasn’t much of a need for one. We formulated a routine and kept it damn near till the very end.

Being back in a position where I could sync into my task minded way felt great. So great, in fact, that I didn’t much worry about things around me. Whatever I couldn’t handle, Weston made sure to take care of it.

My boss, and my inappropriate crush, had turned out to be even more amazing than I originally thought. After our discussion about him being a Dominant, I noticed how true it was. There were things he did, little things, that my brain had glossed over.

Like opening doors for me. And being closest to the street. He never forced me to be anyone that I wasn’t. I had full confidence that he would have my back no matter what came our way.

During the day, my tasks were focused on the house. I cooked, and I cleaned. I ran errands that he often gave to me in my preferred list format. I would make sure he had his lunch whether it was delivery or from a personal visit. It was a wonderful system that I had come to understand created a thriving environment for my service-oriented desires.

Evenings were a different story. After my near relapse, he began coming home earlier. He wasn’t always able to quit working; however, more often than not, he would tuck away his phone and laptop to simply sit with me on the couch.

He would always tell me to pick whatever show I liked best since he rarely watched television. And as we sat side-by-side on the couch, his fingers would lace with mine. The first time he did it, I felt jolted at the contact. In the nights since, I’ve looked forward to the moment his body is pressed against mine, even at just that one small point.

We also have dinner together in the evenings. No more late-night dinners at the office. It’s made his staff speculate things. He told me as much himself one night.

“They all think I’ve gone mad. Or that I’ve begun a new relationship.”

I shook my head. “And what have you told them?”

“Nothing, obviously. While I am quite open with my staff, they have no need to know my personal life so in depth. Not when I”m still working on knowing it myself.”

The reminder that we were in a limbo of sorts didn’t terrify me as much as it should have. I knew better than to get involved with Weston. There was not a future that could work out between us. Not in my mind, at least.

I had seen firsthand what a relationship with a — power dynamic, I think he called it — looked like. There was only one true winner when someone held the power. And unfortunately, it was never me.

But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t open to the idea of learning about myself. If there was one thing I intended to do before my time with Weston came to an end, it was to uncover the true nature that was within me.

Who was Gerald Grimes? And what did he love? What did his future look like?

Those questions ran through my head in a loop, often filling the space between tasks as I worked on my to-do list each day. I couldn’t complain. Not really.

For someone who had been near death less than a year ago thanks to self-medicating with alcohol, I was lucky to be alive. Even luckier to be thriving in a well-paying job with a man who wanted nothing but the best for me. The luck became unreal when I added in the fact said boss also desired to have a romantic relationship with me AND that he would wait for me as long as I needed.

Talk about swoon worthy.

If I weren’t so jaded, I’d have been barking like a lapdog at this man.

I smiled at the thought one morning as I left the apartment to go grab lunch for Weston and myself. It was a gorgeous day, with not a cloud in the sky. The sounds of the city greeted me as I stepped out of the front doors.

My enjoyment of the day ended rather quickly thanks to what came next. A voice called out from across the street. “Gerald!”

I turned to see if I recognized the person since their voice didn’t seem familiar. At the sight of a large muscular guy with a dark expression and equally dark clothing, I froze. Was he here to rob me? Or was he some hired muscle coming after me for some wrong I didn’t commit?

“Gerald Grimes?” He asked once he was within arm’s reach.

I nodded since my throat refused to work.

“My name is Preacher. I’m a private investigator. Your friends hired me to find you when you didn’t come back to the ranch. Do you have a minute to talk?”

Relief came at the knowledge he wasn’t here to harm me. It was followed swiftly by frustration. I didn’t want to talk to this man, to this stranger. I didn’t want to be reminded of the life I’d left behind. There wasn’t enough money in the world to convince me to have a chat with this Preacher guy.

“No thanks,” I said, my voice firm. “I don’t have anything to say about it.”

When I turned to leave, his arm shot out to grab me. “Wait a second, there. I’m not sure you understand. These people are worried sick about you. They have been since you disappeared without a word.”

He spoke about them like he was their friend too. But I knew instantly that it could be true. Not when it hadn’t been that long since I was living on the ranch. I knew everyone there and pretty much everyone they knew as well. If there’d been someone like Preacher around, I’d have been clued in.

Would you, though? A taunting voice in my mind was quick to put a stop to the idea. There was a long period of time where I was too inebriated to even see straight. Preacher could have been at dinner five nights a week, and I wouldn’t have noticed.

“I can understand why they’d be worried, but there is no need. As you can see, I’m perfectly fine. I’m also sober. In order to keep myself that way, I have to stick to my new life.”

There was something that looked awfully close to understanding in his gaze. He released me, though he didn’t step away initially.

“Would it be ok to let them know where you are? Maybe give them an ETA of when you’ll visit? It would go a long way to giving them peace of mind. For both you and Weston.”

“Weston? What about him?”

Preacher rubbed his jaw. “You know how they say it’s a small world sometimes? Well, turns out Weston’s brother Robin works with Griffin at the clinic. He’s been worried about his brother after his failed engagement. When I was called to search for you, we added hunting down Weston in the mix. Imagine my surprise to find the two of you in one place.”

I fought not to blush at the insinuation of his words. Sure, they were mostly true, but that wasn’t something he needed to know. He might tell the guys at the ranch, or even Robin, and then it could make things worse. I was only just getting my footing.

“Can you just give them an update to say I’m alive and leave it at that? I don’t plan to go back to the ranch for a long time, if ever. Most importantly of all, you cannot tell them where I am. They will all load up in an instant to come here to convince me I’ve made a mistake. They mean well, I know they do.”

He raised both his hands. “Easy. I get it. Sometimes life throws you a curveball, and you need to switch it up. I’m not going to judge.”

“Thank you,” I said with a relieved sigh.

“And I’ll do as you’ve asked. I’ve watched you and Weston for enough days to know that neither of you is truly in danger. If you’re truly sober and happy, then there’s no need to send in the cavalry.” He grinned, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I wish you nothing but the best, Gerald. I’d say it’s goodbye, but I have a feeling it’s only a see you later.”

With that cryptic message, he left me standing on the sidewalk with more questions than answers. Why in the world had the guys taken to calling a private investigator? Well, that part wasn’t all that confusing, really. In their place, I’d have likely done the same.

Even so, the fact of the matter was that I was safe and adapting to my new life. Telling me to come back to the ranch was silly. It wasn’t even home anymore. It hadn’t been in a long, long time.

Shaking myself from the shock of the encounter, I took off to grab the food that was surely well past ready. I only hoped it hadn’t gone cold. Talking to Preacher took far too much of my lunchtime. Thank goodness Weston wouldn’t start his break until I arrived.

After getting our food and rushing to his floor, I felt relief swell at the sight of Weston talking to his team. I moved to where he could see me. The second he did, I watched him end the meeting and rush into the hall.

He pulled me close. “There you are. I was worried when you didn’t show up at the normal time.”

“Sorry. I was stopped on the street by this P.I. the guys back at the ranch hired to track me down.” I shrugged as his jaw dropped.

“My office. Now. We’ve got to discuss this. How are you feeling? Do you need to rest? Hugs and a nap? Tell me, and we’ll make it happen. I can even reschedule my afternoon appointments if need be.” Weston spoke quickly as he tugged me into his office.

Once the door was closed, I set down the food and turned to him. He was close. Impossibly so. And I didn’t hate it.

I pressed my hands to his chest to calm him down. “Preacher was very nice about the whole thing. He agreed to give them an update to say I’m alive and ok, but that he wouldn’t tell them where I was.”

“Did you say Preacher? What a weird name for a P.I.” He said carefully.

“I did. He was also looking for you too. Apparently, Robin wanted in on the investigation once he heard about it.”

Weston scowled. “Robin, as in my brother Robin, right? How could he be involved with your friends on the… holy shit. Is he working near the ranch?”

I chuckled at his shock. “Sounded like it. The job is with Griffin, who”s dating Harlan, the cook on the ranch. I’m sure the group is all tangled up now.”

I wasn’t sure what kind of response I expected, but a grin and laughter weren’t it. With my hands still pressed against him, I tapped his chest.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

He shook his head. “It’s just ironic that they all overlapped. Seems like we’d have wound up together one way or another. If I hadn’t found you before, then my brother’s meddling definitely would have done it. Must be that you and I were destined to find each other.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I wasn’t all too sure just yet. How could I be granted another irresistible boss to tempt me after the heartbreak I’d been through?

Wes hummed as he pulled food from the bag I’d brought in. “Anything else happen today? Something you might want to talk about?”

A thought hit me at his words. One I hadn’t had since leaving rehab.

“Yeah, actually, only I just thought of it.”

He stopped what he was doing to turn my way. “What’s got that confused look on your face?”

I hadn’t realized I was so openly showing how I felt. I tried to school my features as I replied, “I was just thinking about group therapy. One of the docs from Sunny Shades recommended it to me. After my last… weak moment, I feel it’s probably time I put some effort into finding a group. Maybe actually talk about my feelings a little.”

Wes smiled at me then, his features softening in a way that stole my breath. “I think that’s wonderful. If you want, I can go with you to the first meeting. That way, you won’t be alone.”

At the suggestion, I felt a wave of relief. “If you’re sure, then yes. I’d really like to have some backup. Just in case.”

I didn’t have to explain what I meant. He and I both knew that I was still in a delicate state after the birthday debacle. It wouldn’t be anyone’s intention to upset me, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t. Even a simple “what led to your addiction?” opening question might be too much.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t try.

I had to. More so now than before.

The community aspect of group therapy was touted as being transformative for so many. There was no doubt in my mind that it was going to be part of my life, long-term.

“Do you have a meeting time in mind? I’ll make sure to block it off on my calendar moving forward. You have me for as long as you need.”

I knew Wes was talking about the meetings, but a tiny part of me wanted it to mean more. It wanted those words to indicate more than the friendly way he intended them.