21. Grace

TWENTY-ONE

GRACE

"That's…not right," I whisper to myself, looking at the monstrosity draped across the dress form in front of me. I was so excited when I had a random moment of inspiration earlier while I was looking at the new clothes that were delivered to the boutique. The pieces were amazing, but I thought of a few things that I could do that might make them even better. I decided to come home and put my own twist on some of this season's trending looks, but I guess I'm not quite there yet. What I was seeing in my head is not what I ended up with at all.

I'm not going to get completely discouraged, though. I've been begging my brain to feel something for so long, that I'll take any crumbs of inspiration I get when it comes to making clothes. I think I just need to blow the dust off of my sewing skills, to be honest. My seams are crooked and the entire dress looks kind of lopsided. On top of that, I was a little scared to think outside the box with this one like I would've when I was younger. The result is a plain, boring piece that looks like it would be sold at any old shop. But progress is progress.

I hate to say it, but one of the things I lost the day Tanner left was my motivation to design clothes. I don't think it happened all at once, but as soon as I knew I truly didn't want to go to the California College of the Arts, I decided to take a couple of months off. I was younger and a lot weaker than I am now, but when he walked away, I felt like my world had ended. Before him, I was happy and full of hope for the future. After him, I felt like every day was a struggle to even get out of bed. I mourned the loss of not only my first love, but one of my closest friends. The problem was that it felt so good to lie in bed and cry all day, that it was hard to stop. It took me a long time to move from that stage of emptiness and depression to the one where I was so angry, that I couldn't even see his face on a billboard without wanting to scream at it. Eventually, that anger turned to resentment, which is where I've been for years. Seeing him at my parents' anniversary party stirred up so many different emotions that it was hard to decide which one to let out. At first, it was shock. My parents have sent him an invitation to every event they've had for the past five years, but he's never shown up. He sends flowers or champagne, but has never actually come to celebrate. So, seeing his face when I swung the door open that day knocked me off-kilter for a minute. By the time he chased me down in the driveway, indifference had settled in. It wasn't until he touched me, and I felt the spark of electricity that I thought my body had forgotten, that I realized how angry I still am with him.

I ended up pulling myself together about a year after he left, realizing he was never coming back for me, and signed up for the business management program at our local community college. I figured it would be a good way to ease back into school and gain some knowledge about running a business. I knew my creativity had taken a huge hit, so I didn't want to waste time attempting to design clothes when I wasn't fully myself yet. Before I knew it, two years had gone by, and I had an associate's degree. When Claire offered me a job at her boutique, it seemed like another step in the right direction.

My goal was always to eventually start doing original designs again. I never wanted to give that up, and it never even crossed my mind that I wouldn't be able to do it again in the future. Every now and then, I'll sit down at my sewing machine and give it a try, but I'm just never happy with what I come up with. Sadly, this dress is the closest I've come to being proud of my work in a long time. It's just missing that extra something that used to set my pieces apart from everyone else's.

Just as I'm considering wrapping it up and giving it to my mom for her next birthday, because she loves boring dresses, I hear the garage door open. I check my phone to see that it's almost ten at night, and Cash is just getting home. Now that we're well into the summer, he's been staying late to work on the housing project almost every night. They've broken ground already, but they're still finalizing everything for the inside of the complex. I'm proud of him for being such a hands-on leader with this, but I can't say I don't get a little frustrated sometimes when he's gone.

I turn off the lights and close the spare bedroom door, heading down the stairs and meeting him in the kitchen just as he comes through the door. I can tell right away that he's been drinking, which is not uncommon since the team sometimes goes out after they work overtime.

"Hey, babe," I say, sauntering up to him and wrapping my arms around his waist. "I missed you." I burrow my head into his neck, but he just plants a quick kiss to my temple before pulling away.

"I stink," he says, already making his way toward the hallway. "I'm going to go hop in the shower and get in bed. It was a long day."

I deflate a little, because it seems like it's been weeks since we've spent any real time together, and I'm getting kind of lonely. I spend a lot of extra time with Monroe and visit my parents as often as I can without feeling like I'm intruding on their kid-free life, but sometimes I just want to be with my fiancé.

"Okay," I say quietly, giving him an understanding smile. "I'll get ready in the other bathroom and meet you in bed."

"Sounds good, babe," he says, taking off out of sight. I go into the downstairs bathroom, wash my face, brush my teeth, and fluff my hair a little. When I get to the bedroom, I think I'll have time to change into something a little sexier, so I can hopefully catch his attention, but he's already fast asleep. He must have taken a two-minute shower and barely even dried off before the exhaustion took him out.

I sigh, deciding that it would be okay to take care of myself since he's so tired. Quietly, I tiptoe into the en suite bathroom, locking the door before rooting around under the sink until I find what I'm looking for. I reach into the shower, turning on the tap to muffle any noises that may escape the room.

I drop to my knees, spreading my legs as wide as I can before turning on the small vibrator. Its size looks deceiving, but it packs a punch, which is why it's my favorite. As soon as I touch it to my clit through my thin panties, I start to feel the coil of tightness bloom to life in my stomach. I close my eyes, but immediately open them when I realize the face I'm seeing doesn't belong to my fiancé. I pull the vibrator away, tamping down my arousal for a moment. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes again, hoping that it was just a fluke, but it wasn't. All I see are Tanner Lake's endless, deep blue pools staring into me.

"Fuck," I say breathlessly, turning off the toy and tossing it across the room. I bring my hands to my face and drag them downward, shame filling me for the way my brain is working right now. I should be envisioning Cash. I'm attracted to him. I love him. I'm marrying him. So why is it not him that I'm seeing when I'm touching myself?

As turned on as I am, I can't finish myself off like this. Instead, I get up, ignoring the throb between my legs, and put the vibrator back under the sink. I turn off the shower and wash my hands before flipping the light switch and sliding into bed next to my fiancé.

But again, it's not his face I see before I drift off to sleep.