The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(136)

“Uh… okay. Just a sec.” She opens her door and rushes to my front door, her face hard.

I slowly climb from the car and walk up behind her, catching her between my arms when she realises she doesn’t have a key.

“Here.” I dig into my pocket and pull out the new set.

She unlocks the door and quickly makes her way up the stairs.

“You not going to wait for me?” I call out, smiling at her back as I take the steps behind her.

She’s at the top by the time I reach the fourth step. And I can tell she’s a little salty by the way she looks down at me.

I can’t help but smile.

“You okay?” I ask, meeting her on the landing.

“I’m fine.”

“You seem a little mad.”

“I’m mad at myself.”

I frown. “Yourself?”

“I said I wanted to go home, and now I want to sulk because you’re sending me home, but I don’t actually want to go. It was a polite thing. Like… tell him I’m going home so he says stay, and then it’s his idea, and I won’t look beggy.”

I whistle, stepping closer. “Manipulation, Luce.”

She shrugs, her lip curling as I wrap her in my arms. “The apartment doesn’t feel like home anymore.”

“Do you have somewhere that does feel like home?”

Her eyes cut through me, and I know she already has the answer. “You.”

“Me?” I slide my hands down her arms, and I link our fingers. “I feel like home, or this house does?”

“Just you,” she answers honestly.

“Do you not like it here?”

She looks over the bannister at the entrance lit up by the evening sun streaming in through the windows. “Of course, I like it here.”

“That’s good,” I say, leaning in and kissing her. She pulls me closer as my hands drop to her hips, around to her ass. “Can I fuck you before I take you home? I’ve been thinking about you on your knees in that shower all day.”

“I’m sulking,” she mutters against my mouth.

“Sulk with my cock in your mouth.” I pull on her bottom lip. “It might cheer you up.”

“It probably will.”

I chuckle, pulling away. “Go get your things.”

Her shoulders drop, and she frowns up at me, searching my face. “Are you okay?”

“Why would I not be?”

“You need space. I just wanted to make sure you—”

“I’m perfect. Now go and get your fucking things!”

She watches me as she takes steps back, her feet moving blindly towards the bedroom.

As she slips inside, I readjust myself in my trousers, wondering if we have time for a cheeky shower before dinner arrives at the house. I’m pretty sure I could get us both off quick enough.

Lucy’s head pokes around the doorframe, and I roll my eyes at her tears. “You’ve just set us back fifteen minutes.”

“What is this?”

I cross the hall and step into the room.

“Where are all your things?” She holds up the paperwork I left in the middle of the carpet. “Is this….”

“It’s contracts,” I confirm, walking further into the room. “I planned to move you in here. It’s what I planned for us when you were in New York—before all the shit.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t want to show you all my cards at once.”

Her lip twitches and I know she is thinking about the night of her birthday.

“Why would you sell this place?”

“I’m not.”

She frowns, not following.

“Lance needs somewhere when he gets out. He won’t ask for help, and I need to keep him close. Obviously.”

“It’s your home, though.”

I go to her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You know when Lowell sold the penthouse, and none of us understood it. He loved that place. Nina loved it. Well, I think I get it now. I’ve lived through so much here, Luce. And yeah, it’s full of memories, and it’s always going to feel like home for me in a way, but it’s my memories. Nothing about it is ours. I want to tell my kids stories—stories about the house they sleep in that I’m actually proud to tell.” Not how I fucked three women in the pool house when I was twenty-two. “I want to tell them how I searched for months for the perfect home for their mum, how I spent weeks off work getting it ready for her. How I thought about their bedrooms long before they were even conceived.”

“Elliot.”

“Sign that contract, so we can carry on the story. Sign it so we can go make our kids proud of something.”

“When you talk about kids.” She leans into me, rubbing her body against mine. “God, when you talk about our kids…. Why are men with children so fucking hot?”

“Man with kids,” I correct, shifting her hips and rocking into her.

“You’re never going on the school run. They’ll eat you alive,” she purrs.

“I’m doing the school run every day.” I take her lips in a light kiss.

“Mase used to think so too.”

“Baby,” I whisper, needing her to shut up.