Play It Safe by Kristen Ashley
God, was I really here with Gray?
To prove it to myself, my arm snaked across his flat abs and my leg lifted and tangled with one of his.
Yes. He was real. I was there with Gray.
“Do you think it’s weird that I sleep with my fake, gay boyfriend?”
That was me. I blurted it right out and for a second I wished I had the power to shove it back in but then I felt Gray’s body shaking and I knew he was laughing.
I lifted my head to look at his face and again got the dimple.
Damn, but I loved that fucking dimple.
And he was definitely laughing.
I loved that too.
Then he answered, “Yeah.”
I stared at him as it dawned on me.
Then I said, “It is. It is weird that I sleep with my fake, gay boyfriend.”
Gray’s body started shaking harder and the word was also shaking when he repeated, “Yeah.”
Great.
His arm around me tightened and he slid me partially up his chest so my face was closer to his still smiling one.
Then he said, “Shit that’s weird to a man from Mustang, Colorado is probably not weird in Vegas. There’s probably nothin’ you could do that would be weird in Vegas.”
I lived in Vegas for a long time therefore I knew this was totally true.
Gray wasn’t done.
“And he loves you near as much as I love you. And you love him. I see his play, I get it and the way you love him, I get why you’d give that gift to him. You got somethin’ outta it too and way he loves you, I get why he’d give it to you. You love someone, you do shit like that and that, Ivey, is not weird.”
Okay, well, good to know the seven years had not changed the fact that Grayson Cody was understanding, generous, kind and loving.
What he would say next would prove that seven years had not changed the fact that Grayson Cody was a serious macho man rancher cowboy.
And I knew this when the amusement shifted out of his face, it got serious, his arm got tighter and he stated, “That said, that shit stopped about half an hour ago.”
“Right,” I whispered.
“Right,” he whispered back.
Totally a macho man rancher cowboy.
Therefore, it killed me but I had to be honest and I felt it was fair to warn him, “You know, a long time has passed. I’ve changed. I’m not the Ivey you knew. You were right that night you saw me, I’m hard as nails. I’m not a pushover anymore.”
That was when he gave me the gift of Grayson Cody that I missed most of all.
His arm squeezed tight, his body shook deep and he burst out laughing.
I watched it. I loved it. I loved it no less than I always loved it but I didn’t laugh because I was being deadly serious.
Gray looked down at me, saw my serious face and pulled me further up his chest so we were eye-to-eye still, incidentally, chuckling.
Then he muttered, “Bullshit.”
“It’s true,” I told him.
He kept grinning and repeated a muttered, “Bullshit.”
My hand moved to curl around his neck and I whispered, “No, seriously, Gray, it’s true.”
Gray’s grin faded and he got serious too.
“They came to me, both ‘a them.”
“What?”
“Your fake, gay boyfriend and that mammoth black guy. They came to me.”
I blinked.
Then I whispered, “Sorry?”
“Keycard?” he asked and my body stilled as it hit me. “He gave it to me.” His hand came up, fingers sliding into my hair at the side, holding it back and he continued. “He told me everything, Ivey, everything about you. Both of them came but your fake boyfriend laid it out. Those two men would do anything for you. They’d walk through fire for you. You were hard as nails, those men, who they are, what they do, what they’ve undoubtedly seen, where they live, they would not give one shit about you. You were hard as nails; you wouldn’t take a coupla phone calls from Janie, hightail your ass up here and sort my shit. You wouldn’t give a fuck where Gran was stayin’. You thought I moved on from you in three months; you would not save me from losin’ my land. You thought everyone in Mustang thought you were trash; you would not protect their legacy. You are not hard as nails, Ivey. You’re just Ivey.”
“Shut up, you’re going to make me cry,” I snapped, fighting tears and again Gray burst out laughing, both his arms moving around me to pull me more on top of him and hold me tight. “Gray! I wasn’t being funny!”
“Dollface,” he said through his continuing laughter, “women who are hard as nails do not cry at the drop of a hat and I’ve not spent a lot of time with you in seven years but a lotta the time I’ve spent with you, you’ve been bawlin’.”
This was true.
Shit.
“Well, when I see Lash and Brutus and you see me kick their ass, you’ll see my hard.”
His face got that near to tender look I also missed a whole helluva lot and he whispered, “You’ll give them attitude, no doubt, but you’re as devoted to them as they are to you and you know they did that shit for you so it’ll be a show and they’ll know that too.”
He was right.
I decided to change the subject, not to a better one but change it anyway.
So, hesitantly, I asked, “What did Lash tell you?”
“Everything.”
Fabulous.
Unfortunately, I needed detail.
“What’s everything?”
Gray didn’t hesitate. “That he knows you told me about him. That you took to heart that shit I spewed when I was pissed at seein’ you on that stage and I had to get my ass in gear or I was gonna lose you again. That your mother was fucked up, what went down that put you and your brother on your path, how your brother took your back which explained your loyalty to him, something, darlin’, I was glad to know because it was somethin’, no matter how much I chewed on it, which was a whole fuckuva lot, I never got. And last, that you mighta done what you did on that stage but there was no one but me.”
Well, there it was. Lash told Gray everything.
Therefore there was a lot to go over.
So, again hesitantly, I started, “So you know about who I am? I mean, where I came from, what Casey did, how I grew up?”
“Yep.”
And he was here.
Right then, moving on.
“You were seriously pissed when you saw me dance, Gray.”
“Yep.”
And he was still here but still, that concerned me.
“That happened,” I reminded him. “I can’t erase that from my past.”
“First, Ivey, I was seein’ you for the first time in three years after I thought you cleared out on me. Like I said earlier, my shit was fogged with what my mother did so I didn’t think about it. I didn’t think that maybe there was a reason and maybe I should look into that and find you. I just thought history was repeating itself. Did I like you dancin’ like that for a bunch ‘a men to watch, get hard, go home and jack off for probably the next ten years, eyes closed, thinkin’ of you?” he asked then didn’t wait for my answer, he answered for me, “No. I didn’t like it at all. But I was more pissed about seein’ the woman I love for the first time after she cleared out on me. You coulda been walkin’ down a street and I woulda been pissed. It just was not good you were doin’ what you were doin’ which aggravated my anger. Then you were how you were in that parking lot because you were hurt and pissed at me. If you were Ivey that woulda gone different. Fuck, I went there and waited for you not admitting to myself but definitely hoping that I’d walk up to you and under all that makeup you wore would be my Ivey and you’d give me back my girl. You weren’t Ivey. Your guard was up, understandably, I get that now, but that was all I could see. That pissed me off worse, I mouthed off, said stupid shit because I was pissed but,” his voice suddenly dropped soft and low, “I didn’t like what you were doin’, baby, not for a room full of people but
I glared at him even though I liked all he said, I loved having that explanation and, as always, I adored his compliment. It meant the world to me.
Still.
“I don’t dance anymore, Gray,” I informed him.
He kept grinning and muttered, “Reckon I could get you to do it for me.”
He definitely could.
“Whatever,” I muttered back and his grin became a smile.
I rolled my eyes.
Then I gave up the fake attitude and smiled back.
Gray took in a deep breath and lost his smile as his eyes changed, their intensity burning into me.
And then he spoke and he did it gently, quietly but firmly, “Seven years we lost, dollface, we both did shit, we lived our lives and we’ve probably changed. But I know who’s in my arms and I know what I felt back then, what I felt for the years in between and what I feel now. You got a life in Vegas, friends who are devoted to you and I can see it’s a good life. But I cannot give that kind of life to you. You sortin’ my shit doesn’t mean I don’t have a shitload more problems but even when I see my way clear of that, I can’t give you a life like your fake boyfriend does. You also know I’m not leavin’ my land. So, the important shit we gotta talk about is that I want you back, in Mustang, in my home, in my bed. I do not want to spend time explorin’ that option before we get that. I’ve lost seven years and you have too. I just want you with me, in my house, in my bed. And you gotta decide, knowin’ what you got and knowin’ you gotta give that all up and knowin’ what I can give you, what you’re going to do.”
“Well, I think I should probably help Lash deal with my replacement but then I’m moving to Mustang,” I replied instantly and Gray’s arms got tight a second as he blinked slow.
Then he asked, “What?”
“First, I love you. Second, she’s bossy but I love Mrs. Cody. Third, Mustang was the only home I ever really had until Lash gave me one. But Lash is a good man and he has a lot of love to give. He will eventually find a partner; I know this, always have and always dreaded it. And it’s probably time he pulls his finger out, quits spending his time looking out for me and starts thinking about his own happiness. And last, something is happening in Mustang that something involves Buddy Sharp that something is not good and the target is you. Yesterday, I foiled his plans but if he’s still aiming punches at you after seven years then me doing what I did yesterday is not going to stop him. And Mrs. Cody is in a nursing home in a wheelchair, someone has to have your back and that someone is me. So, Gray, you get Ivey but I’ve been around the block. I’m an ex-Vegas showgirl. You might not see hard but no one fucks with someone I care about and I might be a pushover for you but Buddy Sharp better watch his shit because if he tries to fuck with you again, I’m gonna bring him down.”
Gray stared at me and he did it so long I wondered if I went a little overboard.
Then he grinned and murmured, “Fuck, darlin’, you’re cute when you’re tryin’ to be a badass.”
Trying to be?
“I’m being very serious,” I informed him.
“I see that, baby, you’re still cute.”
“Seriously, Gray, I was the headliner at a burlesque show with twenty other girls who hated me and spent their time trying to stab me in the back. Now, I run the floor of that burlesque show and I’ve got a bunch of waitresses and bartenders who keep bringing their personal lives into Lash’s club so I have to deal with their crap. No joke, when I get going, I can be hell on wheels.”
Still grinning, Gray shifted, rolling us so I was on my back and he was on top of me, doing this muttering, “Gonna look forward to that.”
“You might find it unattractive,” I told him honestly and I hid it but to me, fearfully.
He stopped grinning and locked his eyes with mine.
Then he said, “Dollface, you in your fancy-ass red getup with your smooth operator that no one in a million years would believe is gay, your humongous bodyguard and your shiny Lincoln, rollin’ through Mustang, kickin’ ass and takin’ names in a classy way happened yesterday and it’s already lore. I had so many fuckin’ phone calls, from Janie, Shim, Stacy, Sonny, Ang, describin’ that shit in detail I had to turn off my phone. Yesterday, you were hell on wheels for me. This is not news. And I do not find it unattractive. And if shit goes down I’m gonna look forward to you rollin’ that out to have my back.”
Oh. Well then.
That was good.
“Okay,” I whispered then smiled at Gray.
Gray didn’t smile back.
Instead he asked, “You really movin’ to Mustang?”
“Yes,” I answered immediately.
“You’re movin’ to Mustang.”
“Yes, Gray.”
He stared at me.
Then he whispered, “My girl’s movin’ back to Mustang.”
Damn it all to hell!
My eyes again got wet and I whispered back, “Yes, Gray.”
He held my eyes and murmured, “Don’t cry, Ivey.”
I took in a trembling breath and murmured back, “Okay, Gray.”
He drew in a breath too. Then his eyes dropped to my mouth.
I knew what that meant.
And Gray gave me what it meant.
Five minutes later, arms locked around each other, lips locked together, tongues dancing, heart rates escalating, a knock came at the door.
Gray’s mouth broke from mine and his eyes went to the door.
“Lash,” I whispered and his eyes came back to me.
Then he touched his lips to mine, rolled off me and the bed, grabbed his tee from the floor and strode to the door pulling it on.
I watched uncertain if I should aim my eyes at his shoulders, his back or his ass.
I picked his ass.
He opened the door and I heard Lash say quietly, “I got a room, my man, but I need my shit. Gave you time. Hope it was enough.”
“It was enough,” Gray replied, opening the door and stepping aside.
Lash stepped in as I moved off the bed, my eyes on him.
His eyes came to me and he stopped. Gray closed the door and I moved but Lash didn’t.
He was worried I’d be pissed.
I smiled at him so he’d know I wasn’t. Over the years he gave me a lot and a couple of hours ago he set about giving me everything. How could I be pissed about that?
Lash smiled back, relief in his.
Seeing that, I stopped walking and ran.
He caught me in his arms and mine closed around him tight.
Face in his neck, I held him tighter then I moved my mouth to his ear and whispered, “Thank you, honey.”
His arms gave me a squeeze and he replied in a whisper, “Anything for you, babe. Anything.”
“I love you, Lash.”
“I know, babe.”
That was when I burst into tears.
Yes, again.
Two seconds later, Lash transferred me into Gray’s arms and Gray held me close as Lash wandered around the room packing.
“She do this a lot?” Gray asked, one arm tight around me, one hand sifting through my hair.
“Oh yeah, usually about you, though, never about me,” Lash answered, sounding amused.
“Told me she’s hard as nails,” Gray shared, still holding me close, hand sifting through my hair.
At that, it was Lash who burst out laughing.
Jeez.
I pulled my face out of Gray’s chest, dashed a hand across my wet cheeks and snapped, “I am!”
It was then, both of them burst out laughing.
Now I was getting mad.
“I’m a hard as nails, badass Vegas showgirl who’s been around the block,” I declared.
“Okay, babe, keep tellin’ yourself that,” Las
Right.
Whatever.
I pulled out of Gray’s arms and looked up at him.
“Have you had dinner?”
He looked down at me, dimple out which made my irritation vanish but I didn’t let on.
“No,” he answered.
“Do you want room service?”
“Yeah.”
I looked to Lash. “Do you want to join us?”
Lash looked to me then to Gray then smiled huge and answered, “Fuck no.”
“You’re welcome,” I told him.
“I’m not,” he told me.
“But –”
“Babe, you love me, I get that. But your man does not want me here and I orchestrated this so I’m cool with bein’ kicked out. Reunite. Enjoy it. You deserve it.” He came to me, wrapped his hand around the back of my head, kissed the top then he let me go and stepped back. “Me and Freddie’ll see you two at breakfast.”
Then he walked into the bedroom area and disappeared into the bathroom.
I looked to Gray and whispered, “You could have made him feel welcome to have dinner with us.”
“Dollface, no way in hell he’s welcome to have dinner with us,” Gray whispered back.
I glared at him thinking he was probably right.
“Baby, come here,” Gray ordered. “You’re too far away.”
“I’m two feet away.”
“Ivey, for seven years you’ve been two states away. You’re too far away. Come here.”
My heart swelled, my belly curled in a really nice way and I went there.
And when I got there I found he was again right. Really right.
And when I made it the two steps to him, I was right.
Right where I wanted to be, right where I belonged.
Held tight against the long, lean frame of Grayson Cody.
* * * * *
My head pressed back into the pillows as it washed over me.
At the same time, Gray shoved his face in my neck and I heard it come over him.
We came simultaneously; we’d never done that before.
It was brilliant.
The fingers of both his hands were laced through mine, holding them over my head pressed into the pillow. He was buried deep and staying right there. My legs were up, knees bent, thighs tucked deep to his sides.