112 Bliss Blvd. (A Cherry Falls Romance) by Frankie Love

Author:Frankie Love [Love, Frankie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Goldie

We fall asleep after we make love for the second time. Make love might sound too intense for the first time we’ve been together… but I can’t find another word for it. It wasn’t casual sex, that’s for sure. And it wasn’t fucking. It was tender and sweet. And it wasn’t sleeping together. We were wide awake; aware. I felt alive in ways I never have before. Like my heart was cracking open and Grant wasn’t scared of the pieces.

In the morning, I wake to an empty bed, but the smell of coffee brewing is wafting through the hall. I pull on my clothes from the night before, but this isn’t some walk of shame. There’s a bounce to my step. Hope.

In the kitchen I find Grant in front of the stove, wearing a pair of low-slung grey sweats that make me wet all over again. I can see the outline of his cock and god, it’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever seen.

“Hey, Goldilocks,” he says, handing me a cup of coffee. “Wasn’t sure if you take cream.”

“I‘m pretty sure after last night you know I do,” I say biting back a smile and reaching for the carton next to the coffee pot. I can’t suppress my smile. “So last night was fun.”

Grant looks over at me, a spatula in hand and scrambled eggs and bacon on the stove. “It was more than fun.”

“Agreed,” I say, watching as he plates bacon and eggs, English muffins. A nervous feeling begins curling up my spine. It really all feels too good to be true. Who is this man?

“Hungry?”

“Starved.” I sit down at his kitchen table and look at him across from me, trying to keep my emotions in check. Usually after a night of fun, things fall apart. “So… you’re a singer.”

He chuckles. “Funny.”

“It was cute. All of it. The carnival, the kiss, the song. I’m trying to find your flaws. The red flag. But all I see is your perfect record.”

“Does there have to be some question mark? Can’t what you see be what you get?”

I roll my eyes. “Not in the real world.”

“Why not?” he asks, spreading strawberry jam on his bread.

“Because, Grant, nothing is so picturesque as that. People are multi-dimensional, and usually some of those dimensions aren’t so bright and shiny.”

He shrugs. “I’m not perfect. I’m a middle child though, so I am a peacemaker. I don’t like to fight. I want everyone to get along.”

“That’s not a fault though, it’s a birth order,” I push back, wanting to pick a fight because it doesn’t feel normal for things to feel so good.

Grant runs a hand over his jaw, his eyes soft. “Look, what do you want me to say, Goldie?” he asks. “That I did terribly in school? Can’t stand to lose. Hardly remember anyone’s birthday, ever.” He looks at me, clenching his jaw. I’ve pressed a nerve, I see that now. But he’s on a roll. “Look, I got Otis because my mom felt I was lonely.

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