26. Grayson

Grayson

I wake to a stripe of sun on my forehead. Maggie's curtains aren't quite long enough to cover the whole window. I feel her on my chest and look down. After she came out of the bathroom, she was clingy. Not that I'm complaining. Sleeping was a little… strange. I never thought of myself as a cuddler, but she doesn't really give me a choice.

She's sprawled out over me, her entire torso resting on mine, hair in wild tangles across my chest.

God, she's gorgeous. My body reacts immediately, my thoughts drifting to how we could start the day. Maybe if I wake her now, we can have a quickie before she has to leave.

"Maggie?" I whisper, gently shaking her shoulder.

"Coffee," she groans, her voice heavy with sleep. Instead of pushing her up, I pull her hand back and start kissing it. I watch a smile spread on her peaceful face. "Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Cardenas?"

"Mmm," I murmur. I'd love to, but I know she needs to work. I'm a little desperate for her to get whatever needs doing, done. She said I wouldn't like it, and maybe it's odd, but I'd love to be able to leave bad news in the rearview.

Instead of worrying about it, I let the beautiful woman on me chase those thoughts away. She props herself up, still smiling. "I might be persuaded if it's productive…" She makes a show of tapping her chin. "Say, if you maybe… showered with me."

My body is screaming for me to say yes. Instead of answering, I get up and scoop her into my arms. Carrying her out of the room, I head straight to the hall bathroom. Once inside, I set her on the counter, keeping my eyes on her as I turn the water on.

As the shower heats up, I go back to Maggie. She bites her bottom lip, her feet rubbing together. "Can you help undress me?" she asks.

I slide my hand under her pajama shirt and tug it off. Then, using my teeth, I clamp onto her pajama bottoms and pull them down.

Her hands slide around my neck, and I put mine on the sides of her ass. "I could get used to this," Maggie says.

Me too, I think as my heart swells. I want it so damn much. I pick her up when she's naked and kiss her deeply, pouring every ounce of admiration and affection into her mouth. When we disconnect, I walk us to the shower and set her inside. "Now let's get you clean, Detective," I say in a low growl.

***

After our shower, I make us scrambled eggs for breakfast. As we eat and drink our coffee, I hold her hand. She scrolls through her phone, talking aloud whenever something catches her eye.

It's so peaceful and feels so right. Domestic but comfortable. I hadn't realized how much I wanted a normal life. Prison hadn't been too tough, other than missing my son. It was more about missing out on a family.

And Maggie makes it so damn easy.

When breakfast is finished, I start rinsing the plates before loading her dishwasher. Maggie goes to get dressed and comes out in jeans and a t-shirt. I know she's going into work but don't see her holster.

"Where are you off to?" I ask, taking in her casual attire.

"Skid Row. They can spot cops a mile away. So, Harry and I are gonna grab a bunch of donuts and try to look like volunteers instead."

"Want me to come along?" I don't like the idea of her going to such a hazardous area.

"No." She doesn't elaborate, and I see her body tense.

"Then I should head back to San Diego. Will you…?"

Looking at the ground, she sighs. "I'll call when I can." Again, she doesn't explain, and I know she's thinking about my case.

She steps up to me and kisses my cheek. "Bye, Grayson."

I nod, though my chest tightens at her reserved tone.

"Bye, Maggie," I say. She smiles and cups my cheek, but her eyes fill with emotion. For some reason, it feels like she's saying goodbye for more than just the day. Things were odd after I confessed my feelings last night. When she was hiding in the bathroom, I knew she had been crying. What I don't know is why. I'd love to believe she was so overwhelmed with happiness that she couldn't contain it. But I'm not a naive man. Her touches were too desperate, her words too clipped.

Whatever she has to do today, I know I'll hate it as much as she does.

***

After Maggie leaves, I take a few hours to wash her bedding and vacuum the house. It's nice to keep my mind occupied with meaningless cleaning. More than that, I'm not sure when the last time she did any of this was.

My Maggie isn't a stickler for cleanliness. As I wind the cord to the vacuum back up, I smile at the thought. She is perfectly imperfect. All the little ways she struggles with being a functioning adult, from the lack of cleaning to the Batman pajamas, and even her love for that silly yet somehow extremely violent game she was playing briefly last night.

It was fun seeing her yell into a microphone for a while last night, even if she did let my perfect cooking go cold. She has a filthy mouth. I hope none of those "squad" members are children. Their ears would probably have bled from the nasty things she was spewing.

After the vacuum is back in the closet, I gather my few items and head out to my car. I find myself looking back over the living room, wishing I didn't have to go. Being in my own place has felt entirely too lonely. Maggie has a way of bringing a room to life. Her personality fills every corner. Her bright laugh and sweet smile disarm me. The only thing that would make our time together more perfect is if George were here. I could watch them play and talk together for hours without moving a muscle.

Last night, I didn't know my heart could feel so full. While they were chatting away about who knows what—Batman versus Superman, and which of them would beat Joker faster—I was doing my best not to blurt out questions I have no business asking.

Like when can you move in, how many more kids do you want, and please don't ever leave me. I guess the last one isn't a question, but I still shouldn't be thinking things like that.

I climb into my car and start it up, hoping that on the drive home, I will get some clarity. For what? I don't know. Figuring out where I go from here should be the first thing.

But as I get onto the freeway, all my thoughts are consumed with Maggie. Wondering what gift I should buy for her, how soon I can ask to meet her sister, and when I should bring her around the rest of my family.

So when the exit for Henrietta's place comes up, I take it. Talking to Tilly or Miranda is out. They would only manage to make fun of me. But Henrietta isn't going to be amused by my confusion or feelings. She will be thrilled. And that's what I want right now. I want someone to be as excited about the connection I have with Maggie as I am.

When I stop in front of her place, I find multiple cars parked along the street. Guess I won't be getting my wish after all. I already recognize Sam's VW and Miranda's Jaguar.

Still, I walk up to the door and find myself knocking. The door is whipped open, and Henrietta stands there, one of the twins on her hip. "Gray! We were about to call you." She steps aside, and I walk through the doors. TJ runs past me with a Nerf gun in his arms. "Freeze!" he screams, and I see Greg stop in his tracks, a glass raised halfway to his lips.

Even though Greg did what he was told, TJ shoots him in the forehead. "Ow, you little shit!" Greg yells, and TJ laughs before sprinting away.

Instead of following after his young son, Greg comes up to me, still rubbing the red spot on his forehead. "Well, we can probably cross FBI agent off his list of potential jobs." He sighs and takes a sip of what I think is iced tea. "How's it going, Gray?"

I hum out a wordless response. "That good, huh?" He hands me his tea. "Drink up, dude. The girls are in a mood today."

Taking the offered drink, I follow him out to the back patio. I can hear the squawking of women arguing before the door is even open. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," Miranda scoffs.

Tilly rises from her seat and glares at her sister. "You have to go, Andy."

"I really don't."

"I'm technically your boss!"

"And technically, I'm older so…"

"Til, if she doesn't want to, the kids will know that," Sam says. But Tilly is shaking her head as I take a seat.

"We need volunteers. At the very least, I expect all my employees to be there. I don't care if it cuts into their random hookup time."

Miranda starts picking at her fingernails, not the least bit concerned with Tilly's anger. "If Roger's there, I will not attend." Ah, I see the issue now. Roger and Miranda are like oil and vinegar. Whatever event they're talking about, I would have to agree with Miranda. If Roger's there, she shouldn't be in the same state. Working with the two of them is bad enough.

"What's this for?" I ask.

Tilly hardly spares me a look. "Wishes for Waves, Hi, Gray."

I finally bring the drink to my lips and am surprised by the taste of scotch. It burns my mouth unpleasantly when I was expecting refreshing tea. I splatter the table as I choke it out. Greg is laughing right as Tommy comes out with the other twin. I really need to learn to tell them apart. He sits down, a scowl on his face. "Jesus, Gray, it's barely noon!"

Greg is doubled over now, slapping a hand on the table. Like my mess summoned her, Henrietta appears, sans kid, with a rag. "It was Greg's drink. He made it after the second hour of you two bickering." Her tone is not amused as she swipes up the puddle.

"Thanks for spoiling my fun," Greg pouts. But after a second of watching her clean, he rises with an eye roll. "Let me," he says and takes over the task.

Tilly and Miranda are still glaring at each other. Still coughing a bit, I clear my throat. "How many volunteers do you need?"

"Another two or three," she says, her eyes not leaving Miranda's. "We have ten kids that are coming from all over the country to learn to surf. Kids that have been through shit. Kids that have never seen the ocean. We need experienced bodies in the water, and others to make lunch and cart them around."

I perk up. I've heard nothing about this, and it's obviously been in the works for a while. "Wait a second, kids?" I say with a hand up. "Are they going to be with guardians?"

Waving a hand, Tilly finally breaks her stare with a sigh. "Yes, Gray. We have one guardian for each. And before you ask, we have waivers and we upped our insurance. Everything's taken care of."

"By who?" I ask because I can't help myself. This is something I would normally handle.

"Me." With the look of incredulousness I give her, she lolls her head back. "Do you really think I'm incapable?"

Do I? Maybe a little bit. She was a surf bum hiding out at a bar in Costa Rica for ten years. Doesn't exactly scream business positive. "Of course not. But isn't that under my list of duties?" At that, the table tenses up. Greg and Tommy both suddenly find watching TJ slink through the bushes along the edge of the yard completely interesting. I think TJ is going to be shooting us with his Nerf gun soon, but I turn my attention to Miranda; she won't beat around the bush.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you can't help, Gray. You're a damn felon, and these are at-risk kids."

Ah. I rise from my seat. "I see."

Henrietta is out of her chair next. "We would love to have you there, but Miranda is right. We thought it best not to include you in this." It makes more sense now. Why they were here, and I wasn't called. Usually, I'm included in everything. "No problem. I should probably get out of your hair then."

A round of protests pops from each of their mouths, but I'm already making my way toward the patio's French doors. When I get there, one of the twins is holding his hands up, tears in his eyes. "Excuse me," I say awkwardly because I'm about as uncomfortable as I've ever been. It feels like a betrayal of the highest kind. I'm not dangerous. Not in any sense of the word. I have my own son that I take excellent care of.

But do I? He's not currently in my care because it would be too dangerous. The little voice in my head makes my temples throb. Stepping around the small infant, I hear my name being called behind me. Tilly catches up, swooping her son into her arms before grabbing onto mine. "Grayson, wait."

"I need to be getting home," I say stoically.

Her grip tightens on my upper arm as the kid in hers starts wailing. "Tommy!" she yells over her shoulder, her voice laced with concern. I'm obviously the furthest thing from her mind right now. I have no idea what's going on, but the kid in her arms continues his crying, his sobs more panicked than before. Tommy comes running over, along with every other person in the group. When Tommy is there, he takes the boy. "Hey, Drew," his tone is soft and calming. "Did you get lost again?"

Fuck me. I'm such an asshole. The tiny boy nods, rubbing his tear-saturated eyes. "You're in the kitchen, bud." He takes the young boy's hand and puts it on the back of one of the chairs. "Feel that?" Drew nods, sniffling as he does.

Tilly is rubbing Drew's back right as TJ and Matty arrive. Tommy kneels down, and both boys start trying to hand him toys. "Itsa Nerf, Drewbee."

Matty has a stuffed tiger. "Here, bub," he says. Drew feels the softness on his skin and cuddles it close. Henrietta holds out a sippy cup of chocolate milk. "Baby, it's okay to be scared. We're here."

Coos sound from around the room as my head swims. Even Miranda is here, tapping her foot impatiently, but a look of pure worry etched on her face. It must not be the first time this has happened. To make matters worse, Henrietta meets my eyes. "Whenever you're lost, we're here." She smiles, and I know the words are for me.

I do feel lost. Lost without my son. Lost without my pride. Lost knowing I'm forever going to be labeled as someone to be avoided. A dangerous man.

With the boys taking over, each sneaking sips of Drew's treat, the adults all let out a collective sigh. "Sorry," Tilly says.

I shake my head. She should not be apologizing. This is my fault. If I had known he was confused, I would never have been so cold to the boy. It probably made the situation far worse. He's confused, and I treated him like a stranger? "It's fine," I manage to say.

"No, it's not, Gray." Miranda's no longer worried. She looks pissed. "When a kid is crying, you pick them the fuck up. Even I know that."

"Andy—"

I'm shaking my head again. "She's right. I'm sorry."

"So fix it," Miranda says, her eyes narrowed. Rubbing the back of my neck, I sigh before striding over like a kicked puppy to where the boys are gathered. They're trying to pull back the spring on the Nerf gun. Unsuccessfully. "Uh, Drew?" I ask. His head turns my way. I take a knee next to him. "Sorry, I'm your Uncle Gray. Can I, uh, help?"

He nods and hands the Nerf gun over. Not to brag, but I easily cock the plastic weapon and hand it back. Only to be immediately shot in the throat. My hand flies up, grabbing at the skin dramatically. It did hurt, but not much. I cough out and let myself fall to the ground. The boys are cheering. Matty slaps his brother's back. "You did it, Drew!" TJ yells, then grabs the bottom of his shirt and rips it off over his head before roaring like some sort of adorably psychotic lion.

I keep my composure, pretending to be vanquished. But my God, it's hard. These kids are hilarious. George would love all this chaos. Matty is the first to jump on me, but the other two quickly follow. One of them knees my balls as they try to stand on my limp body. I groan, but manage to keep myself from the slew of curse words that want to fly out.

"Is he dead?" TJ asks, poking my face.

That's my cue. I spring to life, finding sides to tickle before the boys scramble away. Laughing, I sit up to see that every single one of my family is staring at me, each with their own smug expression.

"Welcome home, Uncle Gray," Tilly says. A wide smile breaks out across my lips. It feels good to be home. Now, if I could only manage to figure my issues out with Maggie, and I think I know the perfect way.