Grace (The Family Simon #5)- Juliana Stone Page 0,26

her legs wrapped around his and her hands clutched at his back. His eyes flew open and he stilled, just for a moment, when he found her eyes on him.

There were gold flecks around her pupils. He’d never noticed that before. They smoldered as he began to move, slowly at first, taking his time. He’d never been this connected to another human being before. Never.

His forehead fell to hers and his tempo increased. Grace matched his thrusts, her body slick and straining against him. And when he knew he couldn’t hold off any longer, he found her mouth once more, his lips on hers as he came hard.

When he was spent and weak from pleasure, Matt rolled over and brought Grace with him. He held her body with gentle hands and listened to her fast beating heart. He stroked her temple, and kissed away the tangled hair that stuck to her skin.

He glanced around his room, at the familiar things that he owned and it wasn’t much. He’d never been the guy to need more than a place to rest his head and a plan for each day.

This was his life. A bedroom with nothing but a few pieces of furniture, and a home that was a place to crash.

“You’re the first woman to sleep in this bed,” he said without thinking. And surprised at himself, he continued. “The first woman who’s ever been up here.”

Grace didn’t answer and maybe that was a good thing because Matt had no idea where his head was at. And for him that was a dangerous place to be. Because when Matt Hawkins strayed from the only road he’d ever known, things easily got out of hand.

And right now he was feeling too damn content. He didn’t want to ruin this moment.

So he tucked her back into his arms, settled the both of them deep into the covers and pillows, and as the sunshine crept into the room they both fell back asleep.

11

It was a well-known fact that Grace Simon had a habit of diving into situations without thinking. Literally. She’d nearly drowned when she was four after jumping into the lake in order to save a small duck that had become separated from its mother.

The duck could swim. Grace could not.

Sure it was scary because her feet didn’t reach the bottom, but she was determined to shoo the duckling toward its mother. In the end, the mother duck returned for her baby, and Grace’s older brother Jack pulled her out of the water.

All was right in her world. She was saved and so was the duckling. That’s what Grace did. She saved people. She wore her heart on her sleeve and said to hell with the consequences. Of course she’d been hurt in the past, but who went through life without at least a few scrapes and bruises?

All that it meant was that you were alive. Hurting meant you were alive. Plain and simple. It meant that you were willing to jump into the deep end and possibly drown. To some folks, that thought was scary. But to Grace, it was a part of her genetic code. It was how she was wired. As far as she was concerned, you couldn’t have joy or love or anything good without hurt.

Grace was used to falling. Used to brushing off those scrapes and bruises. She was used to picking herself back up and moving on.

And right now? Right now she was standing on the edge of something. But what that something was, she couldn’t say. The only thing she did know, was that she wasn’t drowning. At least, not yet.

“What am I doing here?” she asked quietly, stroking the back of Rosie’s neck. The dog’s eyes were half closed, clearly enjoying her attentions. It was early afternoon and with the roads finally passable, Matt had taken Dory back to her place. He wouldn’t be long and her stomach was in knots anticipating his return.

They hadn’t talked about what had happened, mainly because they hadn’t had the chance. She’d woken up alone hours after they’d had sex, and Matt was out clearing snow from his driveway. He’d come in for a quick bowl of chili and then headed back out without more than a few words.

Was he avoiding her? For sure.

The only question was, what was she going to do about it?

Grace got up, ignored Rosie’s protests, and with one more pat on the head moved into the kitchen. She was bored and the house was