G+B Chapter 18: MIA — Graham

This guy fucking sucks.

He really fucking sucks.

Bambi and I spent the last week trying to get in contact with the lawyer who handled her father’s estate, some dickwad named Joseph Randall, but he’s been giving us the fucking runaround. 

He’s either “busy with other cases,” “away from his office,” or just flat-out refuses to take our calls. 

Bambi is much more understanding than I am. I think the guy is shady as fuck.

“Would you stop pacing, Graham?” Bambi said. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Who the hell takes a two-hour lunch break at ten in the morning?”

“This guy, apparently. Now would you just chill out, please?”

I leaned against the brass plaque with Randall’s name etched into it, and crossed my arms.

“Thank you,” Bambi said. 

“Mmhmm.”

“Seriously, Graham. What is your deal?”

“You don’t know that,” she said. “He’s probably just—”

“Really busy?” I scoffed. “Right.”

Bambi walked over to me and stood in front of me. “Why are you so angry? I’ve never seen you this pissed off before.”

“Because we deserve answers. You deserve answers. And this fucking dipshit is the one who has them but won’t give them to us. I don’t get how you’re not angry.”

Bambi shrugged. “I’m plenty angry, trust me. But we’ve gone seven years without knowing about any of this. What’s another few hours?”

“I get that. I do. It’s not the waiting that I have a problem with. It’s the way this guy has been jerking us around. His business card should say certified dick for brains instead of lawyer.”

After finding his contact information on the trust document, Bambi and I thought we’d gotten incredibly lucky. Joke’s on us. The guy had done everything in his power to avoid talking to us since, and I was starting to wonder if it was on purpose.

Bambi pursed her lips, trying to hold back a laugh.

She ran her hands up and down my arms. “Let’s just give it a little longer. If he’s not here by one o’clock, we’ll leave.”

My phone started ringing. I pulled it out, allowing myself to hope it was Randall. Except it fucking wasn’t.

“God,” I groaned, silencing the call and shoving my phone back in my pocket. “Give it a rest already.”

“The clinic again?”

“Yeah. Third time this week. You’d think they’d get the hint by now.”

“Why don’t you just answer and tell them you’re not interested in what they have to say? Maybe then they’d stop calling.”

I sighed. “I just want to be done with her, you know? I’m not interested in anything she has to say. Besides, if it were that important, they’d leave a message.”

“Have they?”

“Nah. Not anymore, anyway. The last time they did, they didn’t give any specifics. Just that they needed to speak with me regarding Caroline.”

Bambi’s nose scrunched like it always did when she was concentrating, and she bit the inside of her cheek.

“What is it?” I asked.

She shifted on her feet. “It’s nothing.”

“Bambi?” I arched a brow, dipping my head to catch her gaze.

She drew in a deep breath. “Hear me out before you jump down my throat, okay?”

“I don’t know if Randall is being shady like you think he is or if he really is just that busy, but while we’re basically chasing our tails, there’s one person who has the answers we need. And unlike Randall, we know where she is. So why not go to the source? Why not ask her ourselves?”

“No.” I shook my head. “No way.”

“Oh, come on, Graham. At least think about it before you shoot the idea down. She’s our best chance at figuring this out.”

“My answer is no, Bambi.” I pushed off the wall and headed down the sidewalk toward the small lot where we’d parked the truck.

I heard Bambi hurry after me.

“Graham!” she called out. “Graham, stop!”

I halted at the corner of the street and waited for Bambi to catch up. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have brought it up. We’ll just wait for Randall or find someone else who can help.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and released a slow breath before turning to face her. 

Her eyes were glassy, tears threatening to spill over. 

Fuck me. I’m such a fucking dick.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry, Bambi. I know you were just trying to help. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did or walked away from you like that.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and fixed her eyes on the ground. 

“I shouldn’t have suggested it. After everything she’s put you through, I…”

I stepped toward her and took her by the elbows, pulling her closer until the tips of our shoes touched. I slipped my fingers beneath her chin to tilt her head up. She turned her head, pulling away and refusing to meet my eyes. 

“Bambi,” I said softly, reaching out again. This time, she let me guide her face toward mine. Tears slipped from her big brown eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.” I wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

Her bottom lip trembled. “You can’t do that, Graham,” she said, her voice cracking.

“I know.” I kissed her forehead. “Forgive me?”

She unfolded her arms and wrapped them around me.

“Yeah,” she sniffled.

I never told Bambi what had happened when I’d gone to see Caroline at the clinic. A part of me hadn’t wanted to admit that Caroline had gotten under my skin or how much she’d seemed to enjoy it. At the time, Bambi hadn’t fully known how cruel Caroline had been to me. I hadn’t wanted her to. 

But I wasn’t the same man I’d been the last time I visited her. And this time, I’d have Bambi by my side. Things might turn out differently. Maybe not necessarily better, but… yeah. Differently. 

This wasn’t about me anyway. This was about Bambi. This was for Bambi.

I slid my hands to Bambi’s waist and took a step back. “I’ll call the clinic back,” I said. “We’ll go talk to her.”

“It’s okay. We don’t have to.”

“No, you were right, Bambi. We’re clearly not getting anywhere with Randall. Our next best option is to talk to Caroline.”

“Are you sure?”

No. “I’m sure.”

I took Bambi’s hand in mine. “But if she says one wrong thing, if she even fucking looks at you wrong, we’re leaving.”

“Deal,” she said. 

Back at the truck, I opened Bambi’s door and waited for her to climb in and buckle before closing it. 

I got in behind the wheel and pulled my phone from my pocket.

“You don’t want to wait till we get home?” 

“I’d rather just get it over with.”

I pulled up the clinics number and clipped my phone into the dash mount before backing out of the parking spot.

I drew in a sharp breath, steeling myself for the call I was about to make. 

Then I hit the call button.

The line rang twice before someone picked up. “Thanks for calling Second Chances Rehab. Macy speaking. How may I assist you today?”

“This is Graham Woods. My mother, Caroline, is a patient there.”

“Last name is Woods, you said?”

“That’s correct. I got a call from you guys a little while ago.”

“Right. Yes. Um, could you hold, please?”

Bambi looked at me from the passenger seat, her brows pinching together.

“Sure,” I said, shaking my head and shrugging at Bambi.

The line clicked, and soft hold music filtered through the speaker. 

“What’s that about?” Bambi asked, keeping her voice low.

“No idea.”

A minute or so later, the hold music stopped, and Macy’s voice came through.

“Mr. Woods? You still there?”

“Yeah. I was just wondering if it would be possible to arrange a visit with my mother this afternoon. I’m about ten minutes away.”

“Yes. About that, sir. Our records show that your mother is no longer with us.”

“I’m sorry, what? What are you saying?”

Macy sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh goodness me. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, Mr. Woods. What I mean is that your mother is no longer a patient here. She was discharged.”

“What do you mean she was discharged?”

“Um, she was… discharged?”

“Macy, with all due respect, may I speak with a supervisor, please?”

Macy was silent for a moment, then said, “Of course. I’ll connect you right away.”

I pulled onto the shoulder and switched on the hazards.

A moment later, a man picked up. “Good afternoon, Mr. Woods. I’m Dr. Sutton, the facility director. I understand you’re inquiring about your mother.”

“Yeah, and your receptionist told me she was discharged. Why?”

“Your mother checked herself out, Mr. Woods.”

“And you didn’t try to stop her?”

“We’re a rehabilitation clinic, sir, not a prison. Your mother was here voluntarily. We strongly advised her to continue treatment, but we couldn’t force her to stay. She chose to leave against medical advice.”

I rubbed at my temples, an ache beginning to form behind my eyes.

“How long ago was this?”

“About two weeks ago. It looks like multiple attempts were made to contact you about your mother’s departure, but all attempts were unsuccessful.”

“Christ,” I said under my breath. If I’d just answered my goddamn phone.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Of course. Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Woods?”

“Did she happen to mention where she might be going?”

“No, sir. She didn’t provide us with that information.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck.

“Alright. Thanks.”

I disconnected the call before he could reply. 

“What do we do now?” Bambi asked.

I lowered my head to the steering wheel.

Either we kept pressing Mr. Dipshit Randall or we tried to track down Caroline. Neither one of those options was appealing in the least. 

“I have no fucking idea,” I said, a sinking feeling forming in my stomach. 

Caroline had been MIA for two weeks. Where the fuck could she have gone? She sure as shit couldn’t get into the apartment. Not anymore, at least. I had the locks changed the day after the junk guys had been there.  She didn’t have any family locally to stay with, either, which meant she was probably crashing with one of her dealers.

More importantly, though, why hadn’t she shown her face? 

The feeling in my gut only worsened.

Bambi’s hand smoothed down my back. “Let’s just go home, okay? Fuck Randall. Fuck Caroline. We’ll find another way.”

I turned to look at her. “Yeah.”

I sat up, turned off the hazards, and pulled back onto the road.

Chapter Nineteen →

G+B Chapter 17: Secrets Revealed — Graham

I wiped away the sweat trickling down my temple with the back of my hand and squinted up at the apartment building.

Bambi had said she’d rather never set foot in the building’s elevator, deeming it a giant death trap, but after my third run down to the dumpster this morning, I’d kill to have that giant death trap working.

Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my phone and glanced at the time. The junk removal company should be here soon to take care of the rest of the shit I couldn’t haul down three flights of stairs myself.

I drew in a deep breath, preparing myself for the trip back upstairs.

“I sure hope you’re enjoying yourself this morning, Bambi,” I muttered to myself as I climbed the last few steps.

Bambi had chosen to stay at the cottage today to play with her new art supplies, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. I’d much rather be literally anywhere else than here. But the apartment wasn’t gonna clean itself.

I pushed open the apartment door and looked at the pile in the living room, bigger now that most of the crap from my room had been cleared out. A few trash bags stuffed with my old clothes sat beside it, along with more useless shit that needed to go down to the dumpster.

I grabbed another trash bag from the kitchen counter and headed back to my room. All that was left to clean out was my desk and nightstand.

My desk was cluttered with engineering and industrial design textbooks and loose sheets of graph paper with half-finished designs. Old action figures sat toppled over on the top shelf, dust collecting in every crevice.

I gathered up the graph paper, old notebooks, and action figures and chucked them in the trash bag. Then I stacked the textbooks on the desk. They’d be taken to the library with the other books we’d set aside.

I opened the desk drawer and spotted a pack of sketching pencils. I pulled them out to give to Bambi before dumping the rest of the contents into the trash bag.

I moved to the nightstand next. The drawer was filled with classic car magazines and empty snack wrappers. All of it went into the trash.

Looking around the mostly bare room, I half-expected I’d feel some sort of sadness or grief, but all I felt… was nothing.

I turned and walked out, shutting off the light behind me.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the unknown number flashing across the screen.

Figuring it might be the junk removal company, I answered.

“Hello?”

There was no response.

“Hello, Graham speaking,” I said after a few seconds.

The call dropped.

I slid my phone back into my pocket and set the garbage bag from my room down with the others in the living room.

There was a knock at the door.

“Clean Slate junk removal!”

Oh. Must’ve been them.

I answered the door and let the three men inside.

After giving them a quick tour of the apartment, pointing out which items needed to go, I left them to it and headed into Caroline’s room.

I shook out a new garbage bag, wishing I’d brought gloves so I didn’t have to touch her shit with my bare hands.

I grabbed the shoebox first, setting it on the dresser to get it out of the way. I tossed the dirty spoons next, not wanting the junk guys to have to see that shit. Her clothes and shoes went after that. I tied up the bag and set it by her bedroom door, then grabbed a new bag for everything left in her dresser and closet.

As I worked in Caroline’s room, I heard the front door opening and closing as the guys hauled out the furniture.

At least Caroline’s room would be easy. The only piece of furniture she had was the dresser.

Two and a half trash bags later, Caroline’s room was cleaned out.

I grabbed the shoebox and carried it into the living room, setting it on the kitchen island. Then I went back for the trash bags.

One of the men was coming back inside as I hauled the bags to the door.

“The last room’s good to go,” I told him as I passed him.

“Sounds good, man,” he said.

I tossed the bags from Caroline’s room into the dumpster, then came back up to grab the rest of the bags that had come from my room.

Once I’d finished, I returned to the apartment to go through the shoebox. If Caroline had put divorce papers inside, who knew what else might be in there.

I stood at the island, emptied its contents onto the counter and shuffled through the papers. A lot of it was old mail, most of which was inconsequential. There were bank statements, parking tickets, and collection notices. There were also several bills from two other rehab facilities. I remembered Bambi saying she’d tried to get Caroline into rehab before, but none of them stuck. These must’ve been the places she tried. I set the papers aside for the trash and sorted through the rest, finding nothing but more of the same. I was about to chuck the entire box into the garbage when something caught my eye.

Bambi’s name.

My pulse quickened, though I wasn’t sure why. Seeing her name on some old mail wasn’t out of the ordinary. She lived here too. But as I scanned the paper, I realized it wasn’t just an old piece of mail.

I didn’t understand most of the document, but a few words stuck out. Trust. Beneficiary. Age twenty-five.

What the fuck was I looking at?

I held the paper closer, as if that would suddenly turn all the legal jargon into average fucking people wording. Sur-fucking-prise. It didn’t. But after a second read-through, I understood what it was saying well enough.

When Bambi turned twenty-five, she would gain access to whatever her father had left for her in the trust.

Her twenty-fifth birthday was three months away.

Did Bambi know?

I took my phone from my pocket, pulled up Bambi’s contact, and called her.

I carried the document down to my truck and waited for Bambi to answer.

“Hey,” she said, her voice sweet and bright. “You miss me?”

“’Course I did, but that’s not actually why I’m calling.”

“Oh? Everything going okay with the junk removal?”

“Yeah, that’s all going fine. They should be finished soon.”

“That’s great. So, what’s up?”

“Did your dad ever talk to you about what would happen after he passed?”

Bambi went quiet. “No, why?”

“You remember the box we found with the divorce papers?”

“Yeah…”

“I found something else inside. Some sort of paperwork naming you as the beneficiary of a trust he’d set up.”

“What? What trust?”

“I don’t know. But I have a paper in my hands right now that says you get access to it when you turn twenty-five.”

The line went silent. I pulled my phone away from my ear, thinking our call had cut out, but her name was still on my screen.

“Bambi?”

“I’m here. Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting this.”

“So, your dad didn’t say anything to you at all?”

“No. Nothing. Was there anything else in the box?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, laying the paper in my passenger seat. “Most of the crap was just crap. I’ll bring everything back home with me and we can look through the rest together.”

“Yeah, alright.”

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. No, I’m good. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Okay. Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. We’ll figure this out.”

“I know. And I love you, too.”

The call disconnected.

I dropped my head back against the headrest.

I wasn’t certain what this all meant, but my gut was telling me that something about it was off. It wasn’t as if Bambi’s dad had died suddenly or unexpectedly. He’d been sick for months. More than enough time for him to make sure his daughter was taken care of. So why hadn’t he told her about it? And why the fuck hadn’t Caroline?

The junk truck’s rear door slammed shut behind me. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw one of the men waving me down.

I hopped out of my truck and headed over to him.

“We’re all finished here,” he said.

“Great.” I extended my hand toward him. “Thanks for your help, man.”

“Of course,” he said, shaking my hand.

He whistled to one of his guys standing by the truck, who came jogging over with a clipboard.

“Just sign and date here for me,” he said, handing the clipboard to me.

I signed where he pointed and gave the clipboard back. He tore off the pink copy and handed it to me.

“That’s your copy there. You have a great rest of your day.”

“Thanks, you too.”

The man nodded and he and his partner headed to their truck.

I returned to the apartment and did a final sweep of the place to make sure that everything that needed to go was gone.

I stood in the middle of the living room and looked around one last time. Again, I expected to feel sadness or grief, but all there was was relief. That neither Bambi nor I would have to endure this place ever again.

I collected all the papers and mail I’d emptied from the shoebox and stuffed them back inside.

I sent Bambi a quick text to let her know I was about to head home. Then I left the apartment and locked the door behind me.

Later that night, Bambi and I sat in front of the fire in the living room, the shoebox between us.

“Are you sure you want to go through this right now?” I asked her.

“I’m sure,” she said, dumping the papers onto the floor. “I want to know what else Caroline is hiding from me.”

Some of the old mail went into the fire. Everything worth keeping, including the divorce papers and the trust document, went into a pile beside us.

There were only two other legal documents. One was her father’s death certificate, and the other was a life insurance policy naming Caroline as the beneficiary.

“Whoa,” Bambi said, her eyes going wide when she saw the amount of money on the policy. “Do you ever remember Caroline having this kind of money?”

“No,” I told her. “At least I don’t think so. I don’t remember anything changing that significantly after your dad died.”

“Do you think she collected it?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s possible.”

“And what about the trust?” She set the paper down and picked up the trust document. “Why wouldn’t she say anything about this?”

“I don’t know, Bambi. Caroline was hardly ever sober. Maybe she just forgot about it.”

“You really believe that?”

I thought about it for a second. “No. Not really.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. None of this does.” She put the paper down with the others. “Why haven’t I been contacted about the trust? My father died seven years ago, Graham.”

“Well, you’re not twenty-five yet. Someone might reach out to you then, like what happened with me after my dad died.”

“Or Caroline intervened somehow,” Bambi said.

“Maybe. I wouldn’t put it past her, honestly.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I don’t know.”

Bambi flopped onto her back on the floor.

“Look,” I said, crawling over to her and angling myself over her. “We don’t have to figure it all out tonight, Bambi. Let’s call it for now, yeah?”

“I guess.”

“Good.” I leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. Her cheek. Then the other side. I pressed my lips to hers.

“Are you trying to distract me?” She asked when I pulled back.

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“Maybe,” she shot back, a smile pulling at her lips. “I think you need to do it again. Just to be sure.”

I slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back and lifted her from the floor.

“What are you doing?” she asked, giggling as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Taking you to bed.”

Bambi’s brow lifted, her smile turning suggestive.

“Not like that, you horn-dog,” I said, shaking my head.

“Aw,” she whined. “No fun.”

I laughed and carried her to the bedroom.

Chapter Eighteen →

G+B Chapter 16: Blank Pages

His bare feet padded softly across the floor, and I heard the slide of his dresser drawer opening, the rustle of clothing, then the drawer closing. His door cracked open, and a minute later, the shower kicked on. 

When I stirred again, Graham was pressing a kiss to my forehead. 

“Graham?” I mumbled.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, lifting the blanket higher over my shoulders.

“Are you leaving?” 

“I’m needed on-site today,” he whispered. “I’ll be back in the afternoon.”

“Mmkay,” I said.

He planted another kiss to my forehead, and I was asleep again before he left the room.

I turned, reaching across the bed for Graham, but my hand found cool sheets instead.

My brows furrowed and my eyes drifted open. 

Oh yeah. He’d already left. 

“Coffee’s prepped and ready to go. Love you. G.” I read aloud.

I hit the start icon on the machine, then moved to the small window above the sink and drew open the curtains.

Some small patches of snow still lingered, but more of the yard was visible now than it had been a few days ago. For the first time in weeks, the heavy gray clouds were gone, replaced by puffy white ones and a clear blue sky. It seemed like spring was finally on its way.

I turned away from the window and sat at the kitchen table while I waited for the coffee to brew. 

My notebook was still on the table where I’d left it yesterday. I slid it in front of me, but something sticking out from between the pages caught my attention.

I pulled it from my notebook.

“Another card?”

I knew this is where you’d end up. Sometimes I think I know you better than you know yourself. Anyway, I have something for you. You’ll have to find Bear first. He holds the key. 

Coffee forgotten, I set the notecard down and went looking for Bear. I checked the living room first, remembering Graham setting him on the couch when we’d gotten back from the apartment. But Bear wasn’t there. I scanned the living room. There were only so many places he could be. He wasn’t on the coffee table or a bookshelf, nor was he sitting by the fireplace.

Where the hell did he go? 

I headed down the hall to check Graham’s room, since that’s where we’d been spending our nights together lately, but quickly discarded the idea. I would have noticed Bear in there when I’d woken up. 

That’s when I noticed my bedroom door was shut. I never shut my door. 

I opened the door, and there he was. Bear was propped up against the pillows on my bed, and tucked in his lap was another notecard. 

I picked up the notecard first, then Bear. Just as I was about to read the notecard, something hit the floor with a clink.

It was a small key. 

I grabbed it from the floor and turned it over in my fingers. I didn’t recognize it. It was too small to be a house key, and it wasn’t like I needed one of those anyway.

I turned my attention back to the notecard. 

You dropped the key, didn’t you?

“No,” I said, scowling at the card. 

I set Bear back on the bed and gave him a serious look. “Do not tell him I just did that. This stays between you and me.”

I continued reading Graham’s note.

Now that you have the key (that you’ll swear you didn’t drop), you’ll find what it belongs to in the place I once found you.

My brows scrunched together. “The place I once found you? What the hell does that mean?” 

The apartment? No, it couldn’t be. I didn’t have a way to get there. The shed in the woods I’d gotten stuck in during the blizzard? I shook my head. Hell no. He wouldn’t risk me going out there. Assuming I could even find it again.

Where the hell could he be talking about? 

I left my room and headed back toward the living room. Then it hit me. His office! The day I’d found my old notebook!

His office door was shut. There was keyhole, but it looked too large for the one in my hand. 

I turned the knob, and it gave way. “So, not the door then.”

I stepped inside his office and looked around but saw nothing that the key might fit into. No box, no chest, nothing. Maybe it was for one of the drawers in his desk? But I’d already looked through them before and didn’t remember seeing any keyholes.

It was worth a shot to check again, though, so I walked around his desk and sat in his chair. In the middle of the desk, right above my knees, there was a long, narrow drawer. And in the center, a keyhole. 

I slid the key inside. It was a perfect fit. 

I unlocked the drawer and pulled it open. 

A bright pink bow sat on top of a piece of white tissue paper. I pulled the bow and tissue paper away, and my breath caught. 

It was a brand-new sketchbook. It had a tan leather cover, engraved with my name—Bambi, this time. Not Hazel, like on the notebook. I undid the tie that held the sketchbook closed and opened to the first page. 

I hope you love it and get great use out of it. Thought you deserved something better than a beat-up old notebook.

I love you, Bambi.

Graham.

Tears filled my eyes. He really was perfection.

I lifted the sketchbook from the drawer and noticed something else underneath it.

There were four smaller packages wrapped in white tissue paper. I pulled the first one out and tore the paper away. It was a pack of sketching pencils. The second one was pens. As I started to unwrap the third, a loud ringing interrupted me.

I looked around, confused as to where the ringing was coming from. For a split second, I thought it might be Graham’s phone, that he’d come home without me realizing because I’d been so absorbed in unwrapping my gifts. But then I noticed that the ringing was coming from the drawer.

I quickly tore off the paper from the fourth package. Tucked inside the box was an iPhone, its screen flashing with Graham’s name and a photo of him.

I pulled the phone from the box and swiped across the screen, answering the FaceTime call.

His face came into view.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, grinning like a fucking madman. “I see you found my gifts.”

I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I can’t believe you sent me on a scavenger hunt before I’ve even had my coffee. You’re diabolical, Graham.”

“The first notecard was literally set against the coffee machine, Bambi.” 

“Yeah, I know. But I found the second one while I was waiting for the coffee. I couldn’t not go looking for Bear.”

“Of course not.” Graham chuckled and shook his head. “Well? Do you like your gifts?”

“I love them,” I told him, tears welling in my eyes all over again. “Thank you, Graham.”

“You’re welcome, baby,” he said, a strange echo following his words.

I squinted at my phone, trying to get a look at the background. Something about it seemed familiar. 

“Where are you?” I asked. 

I heard the front door shut, and a moment later, Graham appeared in the doorway. 

“Home,” he said, looking at me. 

I set my phone on the desk and ran into his arms. He hugged me tightly, lifting me from the ground and spinning us in a circle. 

“I love you so much. Thank you for everything, Graham. Thank you!” 

I pressed kiss after kiss to his cheek until he was laughing so hard that I was shaking against him.

“Anytime,” he said, setting me back down. “Anything to see that smile of yours.”

“God,” I said, sucking in a sharp breath. “Stop being so cute. You’re going to—” I hiccupped. “Make me cry—” Another hiccup. “Again.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He wrapped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. 

“I thought you were at work,” I said, looking up at him. “How did you even pull this off?”

“I was. I’d been putting it all together for a while, but I set it all up before I left this morning.”

He released me and headed for the kitchen. “You’re a damn heavy sleeper, you know that.”

Huh. I didn’t use to be. But now that I thought about it, ever since I’d started sleeping in Graham’s room, I’d been sleeping better than ever. 

“Oh. That reminds me,” I said, following after him. “I thought you worked from home?”

“I usually do. I’m occasionally needed on site, but it doesn’t happen that often.”

Graham started setting things out on the counter. 

“What are you doing?” I asked. 

“Celebratory PB&J’s.” He held up the jar of peanut butter in one hand and the jelly in the other. “Duh.”

There was something so endearing about him standing there with a goofy grin on his face, peanut butter and jelly in his hands, that all I wanted was to freeze this moment in time. 

“Don’t move!” I shouted at him, before hurrying back to his office to grab my phone. “I mean it! Not a muscle!” 

I snatched it up from the desk, opened the camera, and ran back to the kitchen to snap a photo. 

“Perfect,” I said, grinning at the picture. “I love it.”

“I’m glad,” he said, turning back to make our sandwiches.

“Can I just ask? Why the phone? The art supplies I get, but I’ve gotten so used to being without a phone that it almost feels weird having one again.”

Graham set our PB&J’s on the kitchen table, then pulled out a chair for me.

“You needed one,” he said, taking his seat. “If something happens while I’m out, I want you to be able to reach me. And vice versa.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. I guess I never really thought about it that way.”

“Exactly. I’m not required to be on site very often, but there are times, like today, where I am. Most job sites are pretty safe, but accidents can happen.”

“Was your job site today safe?”

“Definitely. Probably the safest one I’ve been to yet. It’s a summer camp about an hour from here. Camp Green Cay. The owner, Dane, and his girlfriend Kylee are renovating the main lodge. If anything, Kylee is the only dangerous thing on the site. She’s a spitfire, that one. Not hard to tell that she’s the one who actually runs the show.”

I took a bite of my sandwich. “I like her already.”

“I’m sure you do.” He laughed. “Lord help us the day you two meet.”

“Can’t wait.” I smirked.

“I’ve actually gotta head back in a few days. I can give her your number.”

“That would be great,” I said.

After we finished eating, we headed back into Graham’s office to collect my new things and bring them into the living room.

We spent the rest of the afternoon on the couch, talking about what I might draw first in my sketchbook. Graham listened to me gush over my new pens and pencils. He let me take way too many photos of him and an embarrassing number of selfies of us without a single complaint. I, of course, set the goofiest photo of him as his new caller ID. 

By the time we settled into bed that night, I realized what I wanted to put on the first page of my sketchbook.

“I know what I’m going to draw,” I told Graham.

“What is it?”

“The cottage.”

“The cottage? Why?”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” I said. “It’s just… this feeling I have. I want the cottage to be the first thing I draw.”

There were a million different feelings wrapped up in that little cottage, most of which I didn’t have names for. It just felt… right.

Graham pulled me against him, and I rested my head on his chest. “I think that’s a great idea,” he said.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Chapter Seventeen →

G+B Chapter 14: Heart to Heart

I looked out across the property. A thin layer of snow still covered the yard, though patches had begun to melt, revealing the earth beneath. A light dusting clung to tree branches, making them look like they’d been sprinkled with powdered sugar. 

My view used to consist of a cracked parking lot and overflowing dumpsters. It was honestly kind of wild to think that this is where I’d ended up. I never imagined I’d be living in a quaint little cottage… and with Graham of all people. 

What was even fucking wilder was that he was sleeping. In. My. Bed. My bed. Naked.

My cheeks heated at the memory of last night. 

I could still feel the imprint of him—the softness of his mouth, the strength of his hands. Every part of him. My fingers traced the outline of my lips, as if I could hold the memory there a little longer.

I was finally home.

The back door creaked open. 

 “Good morning,” he mumbled against my skin.

He pulled away, and I tilted my head back to look up at him. “Morning,” I said.

 “How are you feeling?” he asked, coming to sit in the chair beside me. 

“I’m good,” I answered. “A little sore, but good.” 

“You didn’t. Not at all, Graham.” I squeezed his hand. “It was perfect.”

He gave me a smile, then brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “Yeah. It was.” 

I smiled back at him, a warmth spreading through my chest as if sunlight had found its way inside. 

I let my gaze drift over the property again. “Have I ever told you how much I love it here?”

“No,” he said. “But I’m glad you do.” 

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then continued. “My father left it to me in his will. I didn’t even know this place existed until one of his lawyers contacted me. Hell, I hadn’t even known he’d passed.”

He shrugged a shoulder, but the way his fingers tightened against mine betrayed how painful it still was for him. 

I’d never known much about his father, only that he’d left shortly after Graham was born. I almost envied him for that. I had a few memories of my mom, but as the years passed, there were times I’d think of her and wonder whether my memories were real or something I’d simply imagined. 

Graham turned to me, his expression somber. “Come here,” he said.

He released my hand, and I stood, crossing the small distance between our chairs. Graham pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me.

“You did?”

“Yeah. Stood in the parking lot staring up at the apartment for like an hour, trying to convince myself to walk inside. I was afraid of what Caroline might do if I did. I had no idea she was out. She came back and found me just standing there, looking up at the place.” 

“I didn’t know. She never said anything.”

“Nah,” he said. “She wouldn’t have. She basically tore me a new one in the parking lot. I’m surprised no one heard her screaming at me and called the police.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure we ever will, Bambi.” 

Graham’s phone buzzed beneath me. He pulled it from his pocket, silenced it, and set it aside. 

“You shouldn’t have had to do that. You were just a kid too, Graham. What about your childhood?” 

“Don’t say that.” I turned in his arms so I could face him. “You deserved to that too.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But I gave up on that long before our parents married.”

“It’s okay, Bambi. I’ve made peace with it, really. I worried about you then, you know? You were, what? Five or six when they married? Here you were, this innocent doe-eyed kid who had no idea anything bad in the world existed. You were dropped into my fucked-up family and I couldn’t stand the thought that you might have to go through what I did.”

“That’s not your fault, though, Graham. I didn’t care that I had to deal with Caroline on my own. It wasn’t all bad, either. I only cared that you left at all.”

I took his face between my hands. “Look at me, Graham, and hear me. Really, really hear me, okay? None of what happened was your fault. Caroline was the parent. She should have been the parent. She was the one responsible here. Not you.” 

For several heartbeats, Graham just stared at me.

His hand slid to the nape of my neck, and he held me there, pressing his lips harder to mine.

“Fuck, Bambi,” he said when we pulled apart. “I love you, too.”

“I should have told you that sooner,” he said. 

“You told me now. That’s good enough.”

“I love you, Bambi. So fucking much it makes my chest fucking ache.”

My heart felt like it was beating a million times a minute, something warm and impossibly full settling beneath my ribs.

I guess neither of us knew just how badly we needed to hear those words. 

I would love him through it all.

Chapter Fifteen

G+B Chapter 11: Undeniable

Again. And again. And again. 

My fingers tightened around my colored pencil, the tip ripping through the paper. I tore the page out, balled it up, and tossed it aside. It rolled across the kitchen table, joining the rest of the crumpled pages I’d already ripped from my notebook. There had to be at least ten pages now.

I groaned and dropped my head to the kitchen table. 

Graham had been in the front yard since I’d woken, hacking away at log after log, each strike of the axe further chipping away at my resolve. 

Don’t look, Bambi. Do. Not. Look!

I lifted my head from the table anyway and immediately regretted my decision.

Graham stood in the yard, his shirt clinging to sweat-soaked skin as he raised the axe overhead. His forearms flexed as he brought the axe down, splitting the log into two perfect halves.

My thighs clenched.

In one smooth motion, he hooked the shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground. He swung the axe again with effortless precision, buried it deep into the splitting block, and exhaled a heavy breath. 

I bit my bottom lip, just barely holding back a whimper.

God, he should not be allowed to be this attractive at nine o’clock in the morning. It’s entirely unfair.

Shit. Well, now you’ve gone and done it, Bambi.

There was a retort ready at the tip of my tongue. I swear there was. But my eyes caught on a bead of sweat trailing from behind his ear and down his neck. I tracked it lower. And lower. Until it settled in the hollow of his throat. 

My eyes snapped back to his. 

“You wanna give it a go?” 

My eyes flicked to the axe still buried in the stump, then back to him. “You know you can just buy the wood at the store, right?”

He stepped closer again. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. “When I’ve got everything I need right here.”

“Come on,” he laughed. “Give it a try.”

He placed a new log on the stump, then moved behind me. His hands settled firm and steady on my shoulders, and he turned me toward the stump. His chest hovered at my back, the heat of him seeping through the fabric of my shirt as if there were nothing separating us at all. 

He released my hands and took hold of my waist. 

“Move back just a little.” He eased me backward until my back was pressed firmly against his chest. He leaned in, his voice low but steady. “Feet shoulder-width apart.”

I adjusted my stance, sucking in a sharp breath as my bottom brushed against the front of his jeans and the noticeable ridge beneath. 

His fingers tightened around my waist.

Oh fuck.                                

I slowly turned my head toward him. His eyes were fixed on mine, his gaze darkened and his jaw clenched.

I faced forward and tried to focus on the instructions he gave, but I was too aware of him to move. His breath at the back of my neck. The solidness of his chest. His hold on my waist. 

“Bambi.” 

I almost jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“Right. Sorry,” I rushed out. 

Graham let go of my waist and stepped to the side.

I lifted the axe above my head and swung. It was heavier than I expected, and my foot slipped, throwing me off balance. 

Graham reacted instantly. His arms locked around my waist, pulling me into his chest.

I braced my hands against him, steadying myself. His heartbeat hammered beneath my palms, his breath coming in short, choppy bursts. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

I glanced back at the stump. The axe had missed the log completely and was lodged in the ground.

“I think I’ll leave the wood chopping to you, though.”

“Yeah. Good idea.”

When our eyes met, his gaze dipped to my lips, lingering there before sliding back to my eyes. 

My mind immediately wandered to last night’s kiss, reigniting the desire I’d been trying so hard to ignore.

I looked away, hoping he couldn’t see the effect he had on me.

“So, lunch?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’m starved.”

I swallowed hard. Somehow, I had a feeling he meant for more than food. 

“Great,” I said, my voice coming out more high-pitched than intended.

“Let’s go, you big lumberjack.” I turned away and continued inside. 

I walked to the fridge and peered inside. “How do sandwiches sound?” I called out, grabbing the deli meats and condiments.

“Geez, man, I thought you were still in the living room.”

“Sorry,” he said, his lips quirking upward. He moved past me to pull two plates down from the cabinet. “Sandwiches sound good.” 

“Had what?” I asked, bringing my plate to the table. 

“The log.” He brought his own plate to the table and sat in the chair across from me. “You were pretty damn close.”

“Pfft. Hardly. Did you forget that I buried the axe in the ground instead of the stump or the log?”

“We’ll make a lumberjack out of you yet.”

I arched a brow at him. “Please don’t. The lumberjacking is all you.”

“Sure.” I plucked a napkin from the holder and held it out to him. 

His fingers grazed mine.

God, was he doing that on purpose?

“Thanks,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

Yeah, he definitely was. 

“Yep.” I brought my sandwich to my mouth and took a bite.

My hand stilled, my sandwich halfway to my mouth.

I waited for him to move his foot, but instead, it settled more fully against mine. 

This motherfu–

His foot slid against mine again. 

I bit into my sandwich. More focused on chewing, swallowing, breathing than ever before.

I finally looked up. “Graham.”

His gaze dipped below the edge of the table for half a second. When he met my eyes again, he wore a barely-there, corner-of-his-mouth, I-know-what-you’re-doing smirk.

“I’m gonna shower,” he said, stepping away from the table like nothing had happened at all. 

I glared at his back as he disappeared down the hall. 

Fucking. Bastard. 

I slid my chair back from the table and escaped to the living room. I flopped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. 

Do. Not. Think. About. It. 

In the end, though, my efforts were futile. 

I covered my face with a throw pillow and groaned into it. “Damn it.”

Chapter Twelve →

G+B Chapter 5: Unanswered Questions

The house was quiet. It was a different kind of quiet than I was used to. It was calm, not tense like the apartment.

“Morning,” I replied, unsure how he’d known I was there without looking away from what he was doing.

“Coffee’s fresh, and there’s muffins and fruit in the fridge for you.” 

“I’m fine,” he replied, throwing me a quick glance over his shoulder. “But thank you.”

I gave him a small smile. “Sure.” 

Shit. Why am I making seating arrangements so freaking complicated?

I shook my head at myself. I was being ridiculous. 

I took my coffee and joined him in the living room. I sat beside him, tucking my legs beneath me, my knee just barely brushing his thigh.

“Yeah.” He reached for his mug, then leaned back. “A tough client.”

“Anything I can do?”

A slight smile curved his lips. “No. Thank you, though.”

He breathed a laugh. “Do I look that bad?” He ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling the strands further. 

“No,” I chuckled lightly. “Just tired.”

Talk to me, I wanted to say. Help me understand. Because I was having a hard time reconciling the boy who had left me with the man who was sitting in front of me now. 

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “Sorry for interrupting.”

I cranked the shower handle as far as it could go and waited until the steam had fogged the glass shower doors to step inside. I stood under the hot water, not washing, not scrubbing. I just stood. 

I dropped my head back and let the water run over my hair, wishing that the water could take my thoughts with it. 

I closed my bedroom door behind me and took a tentative step forward. 

They were Graham’s clothes—another black shirt, long sleeve this time, a pair of black sweats, and— 

My cheeks heated. 

A pair of plaid boxer shorts.

Why? 

But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t come up with a reasonable answer. Or rather, I could. 

He cared. 

And somehow, that only left me more confused. No matter which way I looked at it, I kept arriving at the same conclusion as yesterday.

If he cared, why did he leave?

From outside my window, Graham’s voice grew louder.

I clutched my towel tighter and slowly made my way to the window, carefully drawing back the edge of the curtain to peer outside. 

He continued pacing as he spoke, and the deeper his voice grew, the more unsettled he looked.

I’d never seen him like this before.

I dressed quickly and shoved my boots on, then headed toward the porch. The French door hinges creaked as I opened them, and Graham whirled around. 

“I’ve gotta go,” he said, his eyes fixed on mine.

He shoved his phone in his pocket with more force than necessary. “You shouldn’t be out here.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Who were you talking to? Was it about Caroline?”

His jaw clenched. “Get back inside, Bambi. It’s too cold for you to be out here.”

“What? No, I’m fine, Graham.”

“You’re shivering,” he pointed out.

“I don’t care. You can’t avoid these conversations forever. What is going on?”

“Dammit, Bambi. Nothing is going on.” He moved toward the door. 

“Because there’s nothing to discuss, Bambi—”

“Yes there is! God, Graham, there is!” Frustration flooded my system until I barely noticed the cold anymore. 

“You can’t just keep me here and keep me in the dark. You can’t just… just… make decisions that impact my life and not tell me what the hell is going on!”

“I am trying to protect you, Bambi,” he said, frustration slipping into his tone. 

“Well, I didn’t ask you to!” I shouted. “And what about the last four years, huh? Where were you to protect me then?”

I hoped this was it. That if Graham were going to tell me anything, it would be now, but once more, he remained quiet. 

“Still have nothing to say to me?” I hated how my voice cracked when I spoke. Hated that I was still so affected by everything he did and didn’t do. Everything he said and didn’t say.

The silence stretched between us. 

I sighed heavily. “Fine, then. Fuck you, Graham.” 

I turned and walked down the porch steps and into the yard. 

I pushed farther into the woods, blinking furiously at the sting behind my eyes. The farther I walked, the thicker the trees became and the deeper my boots sank into the snow. 

“Idiot,” I muttered, my breath leaving me in white puffs. “So stupid.”

I trudged farther still, walking until the cottage had vanished completely, swallowed by thick pines.

For just a moment I wondered if I’d gone too far and considered turning back. But the thought of facing Graham again made my chest tighten and stomach turn. 

So, I kept walking. 

Chapter Six →


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