AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It was the emotional connection I felt when I was inside her. The way my chest felt open and exposed for her to take it—as if she’d be careful with my heart in a way I never trusted any other woman to be. It was unique and beautiful, raw and real. It was simply everything.
So yeah, to answer her question…I’d do that. At this point, I think I’d do pretty much anything for her.
“Of course I would,” I say, giving her the short answer instead of the longer one.
“How’d I get so lucky?” she wonders softly, her eyes meeting mine.
I drop a soft kiss to her lips, and then I give her my answer. “You waited for the right time.”
We’ve eaten dinner and cake, and we’re at the dancing the night away phase of the night. Lincoln and Jolene are dancing nearby, and Lincoln leans over toward us.
“Heard you praying earlier,” he says to Grace. “Hope everything’s okay.”
Jolene smacks him in the arm and rolls her eyes.
Grace shoots him a curious look, her brows knit together as if she has no idea what he’s talking about. “Praying?”
Lincoln nods. “Something about oh God.”
“You heard us?” Grace asks, gasping as her eyes grow wide.
“No!” Jolene interrupts as Lincoln is about to answer that question. “Nobody heard a thing.” She tries to sound reassuring, but the damage is done.
Grace buries her face between my collarbone and shoulder. “I’m so embarrassed.”
If I’m being honest, I’m not. I’ve never been prouder. That might be the competitive brother in me speaking—the sibling rivalry. Did any of my brothers make a woman scream like that today?
There’s only one right answer: not loud enough for the other three brothers to hear it.
“Don’t be,” I murmur softly, trying to hide the quaking pride in my voice and also trying—but failing—to sound sympathetic. “Lincoln’s just an asshole making a guess.”
I raise my brows at my brother as Grace continues to hide her face in my chest, and he wiggles his eyebrows at me.
That only indicates one thing. He definitely heard.
And maybe everyone out here did. I can see why Grace might be embarrassed by that, but I’m sure as hell not. All I did was bang my wife, and there aren’t any laws against that—at least not that I’m aware of. This whole being married thing is still pretty new to me, though, so I can’t be sure.
Nobody else says a word to us about it. We sit with my mom for a bit, but Grace has grown quiet since Lincoln’s words to her.
Guests start to leave, and Grayson pulls me over to talk with a few of his teammates—guys I’ve met on the field plenty of times. I glance at Grace, who nods that she’s content with my mom, and head over to talk to the guys for a while. By the time I walk back over, my mom has Grace in stitches—probably regarding something embarrassing to me, but I’m glad to see she has snapped out of the mini-funk she fell into.
“Excuse me for just a minute. I’m going to run to the ladies’ room,” Grace says when I sit back down, and I squeeze her hand and grab her for a quick kiss before she goes.
“That’s really something, Spence,” Mom says.
“What is?”
“That girl you found,” she says, nodding toward Grace’s retreating figure. “Don’t mess it up.”
“I’m not Asher,” I say petulantly.
“I know, honey,” she says, and she reaches over to squeeze my arm. “And I know how this thing started for the two of you, but I can also see that you two genuinely care for one another. Just think hard before you lead her into something you can’t come back from. Are you over Amelia? Are you biding time for the next year?” She shrugs. “Grace deserves all of you, and I just think you need to be honest with both her and yourself. She’s incredible, and she deserves the world. Give it to her.”
“What about what I deserve?” I ask quietly.
“You know I hope all the best things for all four of my boys,” she says softly. She glances over at the dance floor. “Linc and Gray are there. Ash…I don’t know about that boy. And you, you’re my special one. You’re so smart and thoughtful, and you’re kind and sensible. I know you’ll always do the right thing.”
“Barring marrying someone during an allergic reaction,” I say dryly.
