Lilly giggles, and I put my hand over my mouth to hide a giggle of my own that wants to come out over watching how gaga Marek's parents are over her.
"I have a name idea," he continues. "What do you think about calling us Grammie and Pop-Pop?"
Lilly looks unsure.
Gale points at Joan. "She's Grammie."
"And he's Pop-Pop," Joan says, jabbing her thumb in Gale's direction.
"Okay," Lilly says, her smile going shy again as if she's a little unsure of what it all means. I know she'll probably forget these names and will need reminders, but it's a beautiful start to what I bet is going to be a beautiful relationship.
Reaching out, I take the bag from Marek's hands and he straightens up as he lets it go. I move around the island counter, removing myself from them so they can have some more intimate time with her. Marek guides them into the living room while I cut the bagels and make coffee. I smile to myself as Lilly pulls out one of her puzzles, and her new Grammie and Pop-Pop sit around the coffee table with her to work on it.
Marek sits on the couch, watching with such happiness on his face that my gut cramps over the potent reminder of everything they've all three missed out on.
At least I've made it right, and I only hope Marek can one day fully let bygones be bygones the way Joan and Gale seem to be doing.
I'm momentarily stunned midway through cutting a bagel when Marek's gaze moves from Lilly to me and he winks at me with a genuine smile.
My knife goes down through the bagel and right into the tip of my index finger.
"Shit," I say all too loudly as the knife clatters to the counter and a drop of blood falls to the half-cut bagel.
"Mommy...that's a bad word," Lilly says reproachfully.
And fuck that hurts. I turn to the kitchen sink as I hear Marek say to Lilly, "No, that's a grown-up word, remember Lilly?"
I grimace at the blood that drips into the sink, but I'm amused to hear Marek say that to Lilly. That means she must have busted him using that word, and he advised her it was a grown-up word and not a "bad" word. Pretty damn smart if you ask me, because I'm sure she's bound to hear it again from us. I try to keep it clean around Lilly, but sometimes emotion--or pain and blood--derails the best intentions.
Flipping on the cold water, I plunge my finger under it, trying to analyze how bad it is once the water runs clear.
"Let me see it," I hear Marek from behind me.
His words and nearness cause me to jolt, but more than anything, I'm stunned by the worry in his voice.
For me.
Or, well, for my cut.
He doesn't even give me a chance to comply or deny, merely takes my wrist and pulls my hand out from under the stream of water. He bends over and looks at the cut that's no longer leaking blood but I know it would if I were to press on it. The thin red line of the cut is small, but I can't tell how deep without prodding at it.
"Needs stitches," Marek says confidently, his voice still laced with genuine concern.
My eyes cut over to Lilly, but she's engrossed in the puzzle with her grandparents. Since I'm the one with medical training, I use my other hand to pinch at the edges of the cut and it gapes open a little so I can see inside. Blood wells and pools, then slides over my finger.
Marek drops his hold on me and takes a quick step back. I look at him and valiantly manage to hide my amusement as I take in his pale face.
"Forgot you didn't like blood," I murmur as I put my finger back under the water to rinse it clean.
"I've gotten a little better over the years," he mutters.
I give a soft laugh and turn off the water before grabbing a paper towel to wrap around my index finger. "I don't need stitches, but if you have a Band-Aid that would be appreciated."
"On it," he says as he strides from the kitchen toward his bedroom.
By the time he returns, I've tossed the bloody bagel and I'm holding pressure to the cut while I watch Lilly, Gale, and Joan. They're naturals at the whole grandparenting thing, showing keen interest in her as she tells them stories while working the puzzle, with Gale intermittently doing silly things to make her giggle.
"Okay, let's see that finger," Marek says as he moves around the counter toward me, opening the bandage as he approaches.
I pull off the paper towel and hold my finger out. His tongue peeks out slightly from the corner of his mouth, and I forgot he always did that when he concentrated. Joyful warmth floods through me as I realize Lilly does the same thing--is doing it now as a matter of fact as she tries to fit a puzzle piece in--and I know that's something she directly inherited from her father.
"Lilly sticks her tongue out like you when she's concentrating," I say softly as he wraps the Band-Aid carefully around the tip of my finger.
His eyes pop up to mine before looking back down. "I know. I saw her doing it the other day."
"She also chews her nails the way you used to," I tell him.
Marek chuckles. "I grew out of that, Gracie."
"Then I'm sure she will too," I say with a soft laugh.
Marek's eyes slide back up to hold mine, and for a moment, there's no cut or bad memories or hurt feelings. Just a shared parenting moment that leaves us both smiling.
My breath hitches slightly when Marek's thumb grazes over the back of my hand ever so gently. His voice is barely more than a breath. "There...all better."
"Thank you," I say in a raspy voice, because my throat seems to be tightening with emotion.
He just stares at me, not long enough to be awkward, but drawn out enough that my breath freezes. Finally he gives a gentle squeeze to my hand and drops it.
Turning toward the bagels, he says, "I'll finish cutting these if you want to get some coffee going."
And just like that...the moment is over.
Chapter 13
Marek
"Come on, Gracie," I murmur as I move my finger in and out of her. "Let's fuck in the backseat."
She moans and spreads her legs wider for me. I brush my thumb over her clit and she bucks. I turn toward her to get a better angle, but the steering wheel of my sweet Buick LeSabre digs into my ribs. "Shit."
Gracen giggles and pulls my hand out from between her legs with a gentle tug. "Come on, stud. Let's get in the backseat."
Perfect fucking girlfriend.
She doesn't even wait for me. Just hauls herself over the center console and into the backseat, laughing the entire time. I crawl over behind her, my breath stuttering as I watch her pull her summer dress over her head before shimmying out of her panties. It seems all we've been doing during this summer break between my junior and senior year at Boston College is finding creative places to have sex. We don't get nearly enough time while we're in school, even though BC is only two and a half hours from her college in Connecticut. My hockey sc
hedule along with training is time consuming, especially since my goal is to go into the pros after I graduate.
But Gracie gets it. She gets everything about me.
I scramble out of my clothes, our hot breathing already having fogged up the windows good. We're parked out on Old Getchet Road, one of our favorite postdate spots to make out.
Well, to fuck.
It's secluded, dark, and a little creepy, which just adds to the excitement of it all.
"Me on top this time," Gracen says breathlessly as I start to push my shorts and boxers off. Her fingers push inside the waistband, helping me along. They get only midthigh when she puts a dainty hand to my chest and pushes me back. I outweigh her by a hundred pounds, but I'm powerless right this moment.
Gracen's impatient. She climbs right on top of me, spreading her beautiful legs wide as she wraps her hand around my cock. It aches to get inside of her.
I feel fevered and dizzy as I watch her brush the tip of me through the lips of her sex, my teeth digging down hard into my lower lip. Gracen's eyes sparkle in the moonlight and her breasts rise and fall as she pants with need.
"Wait," I say suddenly, my hands going to her hips to stop her from lowering down onto my dick.
Her gaze slides to me, all lazy and amused. "Baby...why in the hell would you want to wait?"
I chuckle, my thumbs stroking her soft skin over her pelvic bones. "You just look so beautiful right now. I want to remember it."
The heat in her eyes cools slightly, replaced with a tenderness that makes my chest squeeze pleasurably. "You make me feel beautiful," she breathes out slowly.
"I love you, Gracie," I tell her solemnly. I tell her this a lot, but she never automatically replies with an "I love you too." She wouldn't minimize what we have with such a rote response.
Instead, she squeezes my shaft gently and tells me, "You're my everything."
Yeah, she loves me too.
Then she pushes down, the head of my cock sucked into velvety heat that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head. I can never get enough of this, but truth be told, knowing I'm her everything is truly enough.