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by LSI |
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Chapters: Prologue 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18
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Chapter Eighteen A glass didn’t last long in Gil’s house when he was in this kind of mood. Not that he’d ever been in this kind of mood until today. He’d needed water to down the pills that would nip the beginnings of a headache in the bud. He’d missed it, the glass, by no more than an eighth of an inch and the liquid had splashed onto the countertop. In an irrational fit of temper the glass had ended up against the wall, shattering in several pieces to the floor. He wouldn’t even clean up the mess—a small but significant concession in support of his broken heart. He rolled his head to relieve the tension in his neck as he returned to the corner of the living-room that housed his desk. There was this ten-year-old unsolved case he worked on when he had nothing better to do or when current mysteries hadn’t exercised his brain enough. He kept it at home and would often stare at the old crime-scene photos or re-read the various police and forensics reports, certain that this time he’d see something he’d missed the last hundred or so times he’d gone over it. This morning he needed the distraction. He looked at his watch. Seven-thirty. Sara should have left work by now and would soon be on her way to the airport…with Blake. He took a sharp breath and opened the file. He’d decided not to return to work after leaving her in his office. Shift had been almost over anyway, so he drove straight home…albeit in a mental and emotional fog. By the time he’d reached the house and gone through his ritual of showering and changing into a well-worn and comfortable pair of jeans and a loose T-shirt, he thought he’d worked through most of his anger. He had no right to be angry with her anyway, he chided himself. If she’d given up on him, he had no one but himself to blame. But damn he hurt! He physically ached in a way he hadn’t known it possible to ache. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. They too were beginning to hurt. Probably because of that headache that was growing in intensity. He put the glasses back on and squinted as he looked at the first crime-scene photo in the file. But all he saw was her. Her face, her stubborn hair that wanted to curl no matter how hard she tried to keep it straight; her generous mouth that would sometimes curve up in a quick, unexpected smile and stir something in him that reminded him he had a heart. And her eyes…beautiful eyes that had often revealed so much more than he’d wanted to see. She’d always been there, his for the taking, and like a fool, he’d pushed her away and kept pushing until he’d pushed her right out of his reach. He shoved the folder aside and threw his glasses down on the desk. He closed his eyes on the moisture that was building in them. Self-pity? He shook himself. Definitely not my style. He went to the couch and stretched out—as much as he could stretch out on the damn love-seat! He closed his eyes and flung his arm over them to block out the daylight. Sleep was what he needed, a rest from the painful memories and the burgeoning fear that this pain would never go away. But all he thought of was her. How she had taken possession of his heart…slowly, tenderly, patiently. So adorable, so endearing…another sharp pain pierced his chest. She had become so necessary to him. And losing her was unbearably painful. He didn’t blink the moisture away from his eyes this time. He gave it free reign, let it build and overflow, and found some comfort in the release and in its burning heat against his skin. And eventually, emotionally and physically spent, sleep found him. * * * * * Sara looked at her watch. Seven-thirty. She’d finally finished her paperwork. It had been tedious, as paperwork usually was—this was not the part of being a CSI that she enjoyed—but it had taken longer than usual to complete because her thoughts had constantly wandered to Grissom. She smiled again. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling. She wanted to go to him so badly, to confirm what she thought she’d heard him say, and it was through sheer force of will that she didn’t. She had to get this paperwork done first. She absently looked at her watch again. She really should call Blake. Their flight was leaving in two and a half hours. She couldn’t put it off any longer. After printing her documents and neatly placing them in a folder, ready for Grissom’s signature, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Blake’s number. He picked up immediately. “Hey, Princess. Almost done?” “Uh…Blake, you’re going to hate me.” “I can’t imagine that happening. But let me guess…you’re not going to meet me at the airport, right?” Sara hesitated. She hated to do this to him. “Right.” “Didn’t think so.” After a beat, “So, did you get the declaration of love you’ve been hoping for?” She hesitated again. As far as declarations of love went, it wasn’t what most women hoped for. But when it came from Grissom it was as close as it got she supposed. “I think I did.” After a few seconds of silence, she said, “Blake? Still there?” “Yeah.” Then, “You’re welcome.” “What?” “I figured the guy needed a good kick in the ass.” She smiled. “So that’s what your performance was about earlier? I wondered.” “It worked, didn’t it?” “Maybe. Don’t go congratulating yourself too quickly. You either really helped or really hindered. I won’t know which until I see him.” After a long silence, he spoke again and she thought she detected a bit of wistfulness in his voice. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. He loves you, Princess. I saw it that night at the Habitat. That’s when I knew there wasn’t much hope for me.” “Blake…” “Forget I said that. Be happy, sweetheart.” “Thank
you. You’re a good friend,
Blake. Enjoy “Yeah…so am I. It would have been fun.” SARA DROPPED HER report on Grissom’s desk, hoping but not really expecting to find him in his office. When he wasn’t, she went home. Once there, she showered and changed and had ten arguments with herself over whether she should take the next big step and confront him with what he’d said, or rather didn’t say earlier in his office. It wasn’t an easy decision. She’d misread him way too often in the past to be overly confident today. But darn, she’d blown her trip to San Francisco and a great job offer for him…she wasn’t about to sit at home for the next four days wondering if he’d meant what he said. Or at the very least implied, she reminded herself. But Blake seemed to think he was in love with her, didn’t she owe it to herself to find out for certain? Less than an hour later, she knocked on his door. He didn’t answer, but she knew he was there. His car was there. She knocked louder and waited, rang the doorbell and waited. Nothing. He probably didn’t want to see her. She hung her head and smiled, but it was a humorless smile. She shook her head at her folly and turned to leave. Just then, the door opened. Her breath caught and she forgot all she was going to say. She wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted her. He looked…asleep…or at the very least out of it. His eyes were red-rimmed and unfocused and all she could do was stand there and stare at him. “Sara?” he asked finally, like a blind man verifying her identity. “Is this a bad time?” She felt the quiver in her lips and took a steadying breath. He frowned, but didn’t say anything. Have
I made a colossal mistake? Sara wondered.
Damn, I shouldn’t have
come— “Aren’t
you supposed to be on your way to Her discomfort grew. “I…changed my mind.” His frown deepened. “You did? Why?” Why indeed? His confusion rubbed off on her. Was he still angry? No, he didn’t look angry, just puzzled, but in a way she hadn’t seen before, as if he was in some kind of stupor. He was looking at her, but Sara had the uneasy feeling that he wasn’t fully aware she was there. Several options trotted in her head. She could apologize, say this was a mistake, retreat gracefully and forget the whole thing, or go for broke. And go right back to where they’d been for a couple of years. No! She’d be damned if she’d walk away this time without answers. “Because you’re not there,” she said rapidly before she lost her nerve. There! If he didn’t get that message he didn’t want to get it. Something flickered in his eyes, and jumped in his throat, but otherwise, he remained unresponsive. Then, as if in slow motion, his mouth opened slightly and she waited for him to speak. But he didn’t. That look she recognized. Damn you, say something! Anger intermingled with frustration and fear that she’d misread him—again. Jumped to another conclusion where he was concerned. Her eyes widened in horror and filled with tears as she realized the magnitude of her mistake. She could feel another rejection coming and she didn’t think she could stand there and take it. “Forget it,” she said brokenly and took a step back. “Sara…” He spoke her name so softly she thought she might have imagined it. But the hand on her arm stopping her escape was very real. “This is not a dream,” he said hesitantly as if he was just coming to grips with what was happening. She shook her head. He stared at her with eyes that burned with such intensity, a small whimper escaped her throat and her tears broke free and started streaming down her face. And then he drew her into his arms and held on to her so hard it knocked the breath from her. She put her arms around his waist and hid her face in his shoulder. She was only vaguely aware of the mess she was making of his shirt, but the tears wouldn’t stop. They poured onto his shirt, months of frustration and tension and hurt spilling with them. “Shhh…” he whispered against her ear after a while. “Come inside,” he said, and kept an arm firmly wrapped around her as he led her into the house. After closing the door behind them, he gently turned her to face him. “Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he said softly, drying her cheeks with his thumbs, yet his eyes were full of his own tears. “Make love to me,” she said slowly, too overcome with emotions to wonder at her boldness. What she needed more than anything was to feel him close to her, to be a part of him and chase away any remnant of uncertainty about how he felt from her heart. He took an unsteady breath and drew her face to his. He captured her lips softly and her eyes closed, but they still burned intensely beneath her lids. Her heart wasn’t quite steady either…how could she still be so afraid when he was kissing her so lovingly? She touched his arms and let her hands wander up to his wrists. When she applied a little pressure there, he broke the kiss and looked at her. “I love you, Sara,” he said in a strangled voice. “I thought I’d lost you.” She tried to smile, to reassure him, but her lips only shook as she said, “You’ll never lose me.” The next instant she was in his arms again and he was kissing her with such wild abandon it knocked the breath from her. She knew she would never recall how they got to his bedroom, but get there they did. He captured her lips again as he lowered her to the bed and stretched half on top of her. Their lips parted simultaneously and their tongues met, slowly, almost tentatively at first, and then more passionately as their hands began a similar exploration of each other’s body, their need too strong and desperate to take things slowly. He slid his hand under her top and ardently caressed her skin, her waist, her abdomen, and then drew her to him as if he couldn’t get her close enough. She pulled on his T-shirt, desperately needing to feel him too. It inched up and her hands slid underneath, roamed over his bare skin until he let out a groan of pleasure. He broke the kiss and looked at her with eyes so full of hunger and adoration she thought she would die from the pain of it. Then, he sat up and back on his legs and swept her up into his lap, her legs on either side of him, and in one quick movement, slipped her top over her head. Next he unclasped her bra and discarded it. His T-shirt came off just as quickly and at long last, her bare chest came into contact with his. On a ragged breath his mouth ravaged her neck, his lips trailing a slow path from her jaw to her collar bone and lower to the top of her breasts. Her head fell and she arched her back, tangling her fingers in his hair as she gave him access to her breasts. She thought her heart would stop when he closed his mouth over a hard nipple, and made love to the sensitive tip with his tongue. “God, Sara, I want you so much…” he rasped out as he lifted his head from her breast and took possession of her mouth again, his tongue plundering in, sucking, tasting, devouring and sending her pulse soaring to a dangerous level. His hand, strong and hot, slid down her back to her rear and pulled her up hard against him. His arousal strained against the fabric of his jeans, and when it made contact with the neediest part of her, her heart hammered in her chest. Time stopped ticking. She was no longer aware of anything but his body and the new sensations he created with his mouth and his tongue and his hands as one slid down inside the back of her jeans and caressed the sensitive hollow at her tail bone. Sara wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed herself even harder against him, a small moan escaping her throat … they had too many clothes on, the thought came as her need for him became so urgent she thought she’d die if he didn’t take her immediately. She tore her mouth from his and looked at him, her breathing ragged against his mouth, “Gris…I need you, now…” He lowered her onto the mattress and slipped his hand in the waist band of her jeans, his fingers easily taking care of the button and the zipper. She un-wrapped her legs from around him and lifted her lower body off the bed. Grissom slipped her jeans off, taking her underwear with them, so that she lay fully exposed to his blazing gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, lowering his head and trailing soft kisses down her abdomen to where the thatch of dark hair started. Realizing his intentions, Sara grasped his head between her hands and pleaded for him to stop, knowing full well that if he touched her there, she wouldn’t be able to control her response. “Gris…no…I want you inside me.” “I need to taste you, Sara. Please let me taste you.” And without waiting for an answer, he buried his mouth into her moist center, flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub then sucking her gently into his mouth. When he slipped a finger inside her, Sara bucked and let out a feral cry. “Gris, please…I won’t be able to hold back.” He lifted his head and looked at her in wonder, and then he nodded slowly and left the bed to remove the rest of his clothes. Her eyes traveled unashamedly down his broad chest to his soft belly, and followed the thin trail of hair between his navel and his—they widened as she took in the sheer size of his arousal, and wondered how she’d be able to accommodate him. Grissom wasn’t a small man…wider than he used to be in fact, but even with the spread of age and a little paunch, his body was still strong and muscular…and most definitely all male. Sara licked lips that had suddenly gone dry. But when he joined her in bed again, there was no urgency in his manner. If anything, there was something like resignation in his conduct. He lay down next to her, his body only partially covering hers. He held himself up on his forearms, his hands on either side of her head. “Sara…,” he said hesitantly, his face twisting, “…we have a problem.” Her heart thudded sharply. “A problem?” “I don’t have any protection.” “Oh.” After a beat, she reached a hand up his arm to his shoulder and cupped his cheek. “Have you ever had unprotected sex?” His brow creased and his eyes narrowed as he thought back…not where she wanted his mind to wander, but it couldn’t be helped. “Not in twenty-five years—at least.” “Neither have I—ever.” He smiled. “There’s still the danger of—“ “Pregnancy?” He nodded. “Got that covered. I’m on the pill.” He raised a brow. “Oh?” “Don’t even go there, babe. I take it for medical reasons.” When she saw the quick frown of concern on his face, she added, “Evens out my moods.” His mouth twisted and he sucked in his upper lip, obviously struggling to keep his incredulity from showing. She gave him a slight shove and a mock-dangerous look. “Don’t you dare! Now, would you pick up where you left off before I show you how nasty I can really be?” His eyes glinted playfully. “If I recall, I was somewhere you didn’t want me to be—babe.” Sara smiled, fully enjoying the lighter mood despite her body’s cry for release. As much as she wanted him and loved him, there had been some other tension, an awkwardness that was typical of the first time with a man. That awkwardness had suddenly vanished. “True, but only because…because—“ “I know,” he said, kissing her gently. “I want to feel you falling off the edge too…I want to see your face…” His eyes burned with renewed passion. “Sara—“ In one fluid motion, he moved between her legs and entered her, stretching her walls painfully, but the pain almost immediately ebbed to minor discomfort and then disappeared completely as intense pleasure took its place. “You okay?” “Hmm…don’t stop,” she breathed, her hands moving to his hips and encouraging him to go deeper, and then she wrapped her legs around him and moved her hips in time with his. He moved exquisitely slow at first, plunging up into her, hitting that wonderfully sensitive spot with each thrust. He never took his eyes off her, nor she off him, and her hands moved up and wrapped around his neck as a host of sensations started swirling in her belly. “Gris…” she whispered. “Please…” His tongue teased her lower lip, then slipped in and tangled with her own in a languorous open-mouth kiss. Then his mouth left hers and he withdrew a little to thrust deeper and faster into her. Her eyes glazed over, blurring his face. It was happening…that powerful, excruciating and exquisitely mind-numbing sensation that warned her she was very close to the edge…that point where you shut your eyes tightly to block out everything but the sensation, except that looking at him made the moment that much more exquisite. Suddenly, her muscles contracted and wave after wave of hot pleasure released and sprayed over him. He closed his mouth over hers, absorbing her cry and muffling his own strangled one as his powerful climax immediately followed. He collapsed a little and rested his brow to hers, their fast breaths intermingling as he continued rocking back and forth slowly until the throbbing and pulsing sensations ebbed and every last drop of his passion had spilled into her. Only then did he roll over on his back taking her with him, and wrapped his arms around her. Sara nestled comfortably in the cocoon of his arms, physically spent, but on such an emotional high that her heart still raced. She closed her eyes, but fought sleep. She wanted to savor this moment as long as she could. Nothing she’d experienced in the past had even come close to what she was feeling at this moment. Her heart, mind and soul were filled with a joy and sense of well-being such as she’d never known…had not even known possible. And she was thrilled—thrilled that she and Grissom had finally found their way to each other. She felt as though she had finally come home. She wondered if he felt that too. A soft sigh of contentment escaped her lips. Grissom pulled her closer and dropped a light kiss on her forehead. After several minutes of lying quietly together, Sara disentangled herself from the circle of his arms and propped herself up on an elbow. He’d been so quiet that she’d half expected him to be sleeping and was surprised to find him not only very alert but as she looked at him, she was shocked by the torment she detected in his dark-blue gaze. A little of her happiness slipped away. “Everything okay?” she asked tentatively, resting her hand over his heart. “Sure,” he said unconvincingly, his voice low and scratchy. He cleared his throat. As an afterthought, he gave her a small smile, but it was no more convincing than his ‘sure’ had been. Sara frowned. “Do you, uh…regret this?” “No!” he said quickly. “Don’t even think that.” He reached up with an unsteady hand and brushed her hair back. For a moment his eyes roamed her face as if he wanted to burn every detail of it to memory. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, barely above a whisper. He brought her head down to rest on his chest and held her close, his fingers tangling in her hair. His words and his caress warmed her, but Sara couldn’t shake the feeling that all was not as it should be. “Gris, please tell me what’s wrong.” After a good minute of silence, she looked up at him and saw a man struggling for words. Not a-typical for him, but Sara had hoped that they’d crossed that barrier. That he obviously hadn’t could only mean one thing…whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Something very much like fear started in the pit of her stomach and must have shown on her face because he suddenly gave her a quick comforting smile and kissed the top of her head. “I expected the pain to go away,” he finally said. “It hasn’t.” Sara propped herself up, concern etched on her face. “What pain? What are you talking about?” He shrugged. “I don’t quite know how to explain it. It’s more like an uneasy feeling that…” He shook his head and let out a frustrated sigh. “Sara...what do you want?” What do I want? That question again. She frowned internally. How could he still be asking her that? Wasn’t it obvious? She looked at him, saw the uncertainty on his brow, the worry in his eyes and she wondered if he feared she wanted too much, or not enough. Perhaps she’s the one who should have been asking him that question all along, and there was no time like the present. Bracing herself for the worse-case scenario, she said, “You keep asking me that. How about you tell me what you want?” He gave her a faint nod, acknowledging the fairness of the question, then dropped his eyes and inhaled deeply. “I want it all, Sara,” he breathed out and then looked at her. He cupped her cheek with his hand. “I want to be the last man on your mind before you go to sleep and the first one you think about when you wake up—“ She interrupted him with a quick kiss. “You already are that man, Gris…have been for a long time.” His lip curled up in a ghost of a smile. “I need to know that whatever it is you feel for me is real, not just some—“ “School girl crush?” she supplied, pursing her lips teasingly. He wasn’t impressed with her attempt at humor. “Sara, do you love me? Really love me?” “Oh,
Gris. How can you doubt
that? Why do you think I
wanted to go back to He pulled her face down to his and kissed her, hard. “I was never indifferent,” he said when he released her lips. He reached down and pulled the sheet up over them and hugged her close. “Then why did you always push me away?” He was silent for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I justified it to myself in so many ways, for so long, that after a while I believed my own press. I think…I think I was afraid of you…of the power I knew you’d have over me. So when I found myself drawn to you despite my better judgment, I had to push harder. I didn’t want to need you.” “So what changed?” “There are some things I can’t control, Sara. The way I feel about you is one of those things. I came to terms with that. I realized that it wouldn’t go away just because I wanted it to. Doc helped me with that.“ Sara shifted slightly and looked up at him. “Doc Robbins,” she stated, surprised. “He knows about this?” Grissom shrugged. “He guessed. The other night, after the party at the Mayor’s mansion, at your apartment,” his face twisted at the memory, “I convinced myself that if I could get you into bed, only once, I’d be able to get you out of my system. Instead I realized that one night with you would never be enough.” He looked down at her and placed another kiss on her forehead. “I knew then that how I felt…what I’d been feeling for a long time…I knew what it was, that I was in love with you. I didn’t handle it very well. I’m sorry about that. The truth is that it scared the hell out of me.” “So that’s why you came back…” “Yes, and found you with Garrison,” he stated baldly and grimaced at the memory. She propped herself up on an elbow so she could look at him properly and laid her hand gently on his throat. “I wanted to strangle you!” she said mock-seriously. If someone had told her that night that she’d be making light of it a few days later she never would have believed it. But nothing short of him telling her that this had been a mistake would make her unhappy today—not even her most painful memories. Grissom took her hand away from his neck and dropped a soft kiss in her palm. “I suffered a fate far worse,” he said and Sara could see he was still hurting. “You do believe me, don’t you…that he’s only a friend? He was a shoulder to cry on that night, and he was a perfect gentleman. He knows that I love you…” His eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah? So that display in my office earlier was for my benefit?” Sara chuckled. “Afraid so…someone had to give you a good kick in the ass...his words, not mine.” “Damn! I’m going to end up liking this guy, aren’t I?” “I hope so…he is a good guy, Gris. He used to be jealous of you, so I guess you’re even.” “Used to?” “Ah…a few years ago. He said your name came up way too often.” Surprise and pleasure crossed his features. “It did?” “Maybe.” She smiled coquettishly. “We wasted a lot of time, didn’t we?” “It doesn’t matter how we got here, what’s important is that we did,” he answered, always the pragmatist, but she saw the emotions starkly etched on his features as he cupped her face in his hands and drew her lips to his. It would be a while before they spoke again. SEVERAL HOURS LATER he’d fed her a vegetarian omelet—the only vegetarian meal he knew how to make, he said, but filled with enough carbohydrates to replenish his energy, because he had every intention of making love to her again. And make love to her he did. Her lover extraordinaire—he’d surprised her at every turn today, it seemed—had insisted on taking his time and exploring every inch of her body. She hadn’t stopped him this time when he’d wanted to taste her, and he had allowed her to taste him as well, every wonderful inch of him. And then, their passion spent, they’d fallen into a blissful sleep in each other’s arms. Earlier, when she’d started to get dressed for breakfast, he’d insisted she wear one of his shirts as a makeshift robe, saying that he didn’t want her in any state where she could easily run out if he screwed up. But of course, he hadn’t screwed up. He’d been loving and romantic and fun and…perfect. Just as she’d always suspected he would be. “I’ll have to start getting ready for work soon,” he said now against her ear, the regret in his voice palpable. She lay curled against him, her back nestled to his chest, his arms enveloping her, and she wanted to pinch herself. She smiled and stretched like a content feline, turning in his arms to face him, then she almost melted from the intense warmth and unguarded love in his eyes. She kissed him softly on the lips. “I love you,” she said simply, and something twisted inside her at his sharp intake of breath. “I never thought I’d say this, but I don’t want to go to work.” She chuckled. “I’ve got a good boss. He gave me a few days off.” He winked at her. “What will you do with them?” “Oh, I don’t know…maybe I’ll just lie here and feel sorry for my boss because he’ll be missing my considerable skills—as a CSI, of course.” “I’d like that.” She crinkled her brow. “What? Missing me?” “No. Knowing that you’re here waiting for me. Will you be here when I come home?” Sara couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be. “If you want me to be.” “I want you to be.” He gave her a quick, hard kiss on the mouth and hopped out of bed. Fifteen minutes later, he was back from his shower and rummaging through his closet for clothes. She watched him dress, and he watched her lying in his bed. Every thirty seconds or so, he’d stop, bend down and kiss her. Each kiss lasted just a little longer than the last and after a particularly passionate one during which she dragged him down onto the bed with her, he said, “I can’t believe I’m leaving you here to go to work,” and grabbed his cell phone from the night table and dialed. “Catherine. Grissom. I’m not coming in tonight. If anything important comes up, give me a call…Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just not in the mood for work…Okay, thanks. I owe you one.” He hit the end key, and threw the phone down on his dresser. Within a few seconds, his clothes had been tossed haphazardly on the chair in the corner and he was back in bed. “Well, Doctor Grissom, I am impressed. I don’t ever remember you taking an unscheduled day off.” “I’ve never had such a strong incentive to do it before. Now come here Ms. Sidle…your boss has a very special assignment for you tonight.” “Again?” she teased, and allowed him to gather her in his arms and kiss her. Only when they broke free for much needed oxygen, did she voice her concerns. “You know, you were a little abrupt with Catherine. She’s going to be worried about you.” He considered that for a moment and then shrugged. “It’s not like I could tell her I wanted to spend the night in bed with my girlfriend,” he said, a devilish grin lighting his face. “Oh…so I’m your girlfriend now,” she teased, but her heart swelled at the thought. “Got a problem with that?” He kept his tone light, but she could tell her answer meant everything to him. “Well…let me think. If I’m your girlfriend, that would make you my boyfriend. Not so sure about that.” A quick frown morphed into understanding. “I see where you’re going with this. It does sound juvenile doesn’t it?” “Yep.” “Okay, so…my lover then.” “Umm, don’t think so. I’m here to pick up my lover’s laundry. Doesn’t wash.” He laughed. “I love you,” he said easily, getting into the game. “Okay, let me think…my partner?” “Gris…I’ve only ever heard gays call their significant other their partner…and don’t go the significant other route either,” she teased. “Let’s not waste any more time on this,” she said, settling down in the circle of his arms and trailing her fingers down his body suggestively. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be as long as you tell me more about that special assignment you’ve got in mind.” “Will you be my wife?” Her heart staggered in her chest, then stumbled and fell in shock. She stiffened and said slowly, “Your wife?” He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head gently. “I know…it seems too soon to talk about that, but I love you, Sara and I can’t imagine not spending the rest of my life with you.” He shrugged and smiled. “It doesn’t even seem rushed to me. It took me forty years to find you…I don’t want to let you go.” It wasn’t that she wasn’t sure about how she felt about him. She’d loved him for so long she couldn’t imagine not loving him. But she was worried that he didn’t know her well enough yet, personally, to be proposing marriage. What if they rushed into this in the height of passion and he ended up regretting it? He knew her at work, as an employee…he knew little else about her otherwise. She had to make him understand that. “Grissom,” she shook her head and got up abruptly. She sat on the edge of the bed and kept her back to him. She couldn’t look at him or she wouldn’t say what needed to be said. “You don’t have to decide right now, Sara,” he said quickly and she heard the panic in his voice. “Just…think about it, okay.” “That’s just it. I don’t need to think about this, but I believe you do.” She stood and shrugged on the shirt he’d loaned her and stepped up to the window. She looked out, her eyes unseeing as all her senses focused internally on the very real fear that this was happening too fast. “You don’t really know me, Gris. Not outside of work. I can be a colossal pain in the ass. How do you know I won’t be driving you nuts in a couple of months?“ She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the slight chill from having left the warmth of his bed. She also suspected the stress of the moment was a contributing factor. She hadn’t heard him leave the bed and cross the room, but the next instant he was behind her. “I have no doubt you will,” he whispered against her ear, amusement having replaced the panic in his voice. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. When he spoke again, his tone was low and gentle and it sent a tingle down her spine. “I have known you almost eight years. Seven years, eleven months and…eight days, almost.” Despite the nervous tension in her stomach, she smiled. “You’re just trying to impress me again.” “You wonder how I know that, Sara?” She nodded. “The
first time we met was on your birthday.
Remember? She’d forgotten that. “I’ve thought about you on your birthday every year since.” “You have?” That surprised her. “Yes. And last year when you weren’t at work, I wondered what you were doing, and who you were with, and it bothered me far more than I wanted it to. I also know that, yes, you can be a colossal pain in the ass when you don’t get enough sleep, which happens much more often than I’d like. I know that you’re a neat freak…I’ve been to your place. I know that you care deeply about everyone on the team, though you feel you need to keep a certain distance from them. I know you’re very sensitive and that more often than not you hide what you feel because you want us to believe you’re strong. I also know you have a dry sense of humor, a sharp wit and an even sharper intellect, and you’re not afraid to use any of them. And I know you’re very persistent when you set your mind to it.” He turned her to face him and brushed her hair back. Moved that he would have noticed even this much about her, moisture had pooled in her eyes as he spoke, and as she tried to blink it away, a tear escaped down her cheek. He brushed that away too. His voice was unsteady when he continued. “I know you pretend not to like kids because they terrify you. I know you hate your hair when no matter how much you try to keep it straight, it still wants to curl. I know you’re self-conscious about that adorable gap between your teeth. And I know you hate bugs, and that could be a problem, except that I have an empty shelf in my office and I’ll gladly move my roaches there if that makes you feel more comfortable.” Her brows came together. “You know all that,” she said, struggling to keep the tears at bay. She didn’t think she could ever love him more than she did at this moment. “Yes, I know all that…and many other things. And every time I learn something new it only makes me love you more. Sara,” he caught her chin in his hand. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have as my wife.” Her heart swelled until she thought she’d choke from it. Grissom looked into her eyes and waited. She was stunned that he wanted to take that step so quickly, yet had to acknowledge that it wasn’t quick at all. They had been making their way to each other for a very long time—in a strange, dysfunctional mating ritual of sorts. So what if they didn’t know all of each other’s minute peculiarities? Few couples did until they lived together anyway. As she looked at the man she had wanted almost from the moment they’d met, there was not an inkling of doubt that she’d want to be with him forever. And as luck would have it, it appeared he felt the same way. Casting her silly reservations aside, she turned a brilliant smile up at him and saw the slow transformation from guarded optimism to relief in his eyes, and the very male, very satisfied grin light his face. Her hands sneaked up his chest, over his shoulders and tangled in his hair. He gathered her in his arms and his lips descended toward hers, but stopped abruptly when he heard the doorbell. “Who the—“ He glanced at the open bedroom door then back at her, his brow knitted in puzzlement. When it pealed again, he let out a frustrated groan. “Be right back.” He pulled on the jeans and T-shirt he’d worn earlier and left the room, barefoot and brushing back his hair with his fingers. A few seconds later, Sara was surprised to hear him say, “Catherine!” Oh damn! GIL GROANED INTERNALLY. The woman had to have the worst timing… “What are you doing here?” he asked, not bothering to hide his irritation. “Before you bite my head off, I just dropped by to make sure you’re all right…and to bring you something to eat.” She lifted the brown paper bag with the Starbucks logo and pushed her way in without an invitation. “I bet you haven’t eaten all day.” Reluctantly he closed the door and followed her in. “Catherine, this is a really bad time.” She either didn’t hear him, or ignored him once again. Someone would have to tell her that her ‘mommy knows best’ attitude was really annoying. But now definitely wasn’t the time. All he wanted was to get rid of her so he could return to the woman who, if he wasn’t mistaken, had just agreed to marry him. Catherine turned and pinned him with an annoyed look. “Is this about Sara?” His head snapped up. “What?” “You heard me. I noticed she was taken off the schedule for the next few days. You don’t have to be a genius to figure out what that’s about.” She walked to the breakfast bar and dropped the paper bag unceremoniously on top of it. “You can’t hole yourself up in here because things didn’t work out between you two. Life doesn’t end with one disappointment, Gil. It’s way past time you move on. She obviously has.” If he hadn’t been secure in the knowledge that Sara was his, Catherine’s rant would have hurt him. But now, he couldn’t contain his amusement as he looked at her, giving her words of wisdom all the mock-seriousness they deserved. “Okay, you’re right, Catherine…once again.” He took her arm and guided her toward the door. “Thanks for stopping by. Your…concern is touching, really, but I assure you it’s totally unnecessary.” She stopped walking and wriggled her arm free of his grasp. “You haven’t heard a word I said—“ “I think he has.” They both whirled round in the direction of the softly-spoken words, and Gil was immediately enchanted by the vision of Sara leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, dressed in his shirt and her jeans, her bare toes peeking out from under the hems, with her fabulous hair spilling to her shoulders, a little disheveled from the hours they’d spent in bed together. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. And then, he noticed the amusement in her eyes, and his lips curled up in a smile. This was more than Catherine deserved, he knew, and he was reminded of how wonderfully forgiving Sara could be. “Oh,” Catherine said a little belatedly, as if finally finding her voice. She looked from Sara to Gil and repeated, “Oh,” as full understanding of the situation finally registered. “You too are…” Sara pushed herself up from the wall and took a couple of steps in their direction. Gil met her half-way. “Is this going to be a problem, Catherine?” she asked, slipping her hand into his. Catherine frowned. When she didn’t immediately answer Gil lifted a brow, silently repeating Sara’s question, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from openly grinning at her obvious embarrassment. “No…of course not,” she finally said, giving her head a quick shake. She took a steadying breath and came back full form—he had to give her that. “But it’s not me you should worry about. Cavallo’s going to have your head if he finds out about this.” “Don’t worry about Cavallo. I took care of him.” “You did?” Two female voices asked at once, equally surprised. He looked at Sara and smiled. “I told you this.” “You said that you…” She wrinkled her brow in puzzlement. “What did you tell him?” “I told him that I had every intention of pursuing a serious relationship with you and that he’d better start thinking of the department’s unwritten policy in that regard.” “Well.” This from Catherine. “What did he have to say to that?” “After telling me to be careful, you mean?” Gil shrugged. “He wished me luck.” “He did,” Sara stated incredulously as a heart-stopping smile lit her face, doing all kinds of incredible things to his insides. He had to get Catherine out of there—soon! She must have read his mind because the next instant she said, “Well, you two seem to have everything under control, so I’ll be going.” She opened the door and stopped, glancing back at them briefly. The genuine smile on her face as she left said it all. “That wasn’t so bad,” he said when the door closed. He drew Sara into his arms and brushed his lips against hers. “You know, you don’t have to move your roaches to the office. I think I can put up with them if you put up with my elephant collection.” Something jumped in his chest. “You’ve re-assessed their value?” “Oh yeah…they definitely bring luck.” “Does that mean you’ll marry me?” “Well, let me think.” He watched the deliberate knit of her brow as she pretended to consider the question. Then, her tone mock-serious, she said, “The man I have loved for years, dreamed about for years, says that he loves me and wants to marry me. Tell me, Dr. Grissom, what would a woman with an intellect as sharp as mine say to that?” His heart near burst with happiness. “Is tonight too soon?” At her incredulous look, he smiled, shrugged, and said, “Well this is Vegas.” But of course they weren’t married that night. They had way too much lost time to make up for to waste five minutes finding a wedding chapel. THE END |
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