Grayson's Vow (63)
“You sure you don’t mind making a stop at the drop-in center?” I asked, eyeing him sideways as we headed toward the elevator. I loved the way he looked fresh from the shower—dark hair partially wet and tousled, his clean masculine smell meeting my nose. I wasn’t sure how what we’d done the night before was going to change anything as far as our relationship went, so I’d wait for a signal from him. Maybe it wouldn’t change anything at all. That’s what he’d indicated to me when he’d first talked about altering our deal. Temporary, I reminded myself. He wants our relationship to be temporary. Don’t get any ideas, Kira.
“Not at all,” he said. “As long as we don’t stay too long. I’d like to get back to the vineyard early enough to get some work in today.”
“We won’t stay long,” I reassured him. “Just long enough to say hi and write them a check. I have a few other charities I’d like to write checks to as well, but I can put those in the mail.”
Half an hour later we pulled in to the drop-in center’s parking lot in the Tenderloin district, one of the most high-crime neighborhoods in San Francisco. But rent here was semi-affordable, unlike most other locations in the city, and there was a high population of people who were homeless.
When Grayson and I entered the building, an old man mumbling to himself pushed past us, and the noise of talking, laughter, and a crying child somewhere in the background filled the air. I recognized the smell: sloppy joes were for lunch.
A woman with short, black, curly hair came rushing toward us, the familiar face I’d missed so much. “Is that you, Kira Dallaire?” She let out a small screech as she drew me into her arms, hugging me to her soft body.
I laughed, squeezing her tight. “Hi, Sharon.”
“Girl, I was so upset I wasn’t here the other day when you stopped in. Carlos told me you’d been by. It’s been far too long.” She looked at me with motherly love, sizing me up. “Well, you look good. But how are you? And what happened to your face?” she asked, pressing her fingers gently on my cheek and turning my head so she could see the red mark that still hadn’t entirely faded.
I smiled, Sharon’s concern a balm to my soul. “I’m good. And that is courtesy of my father, but I’m okay.”
Sharon scowled, pressing her lips together. “I’m glad I never voted for that man. In fact, I’d like to kick his ass.”
“It’s okay. It’s taken care of.” I looked at Grayson beside me. “Sharon Murphy, this is Grayson Hawthorn.” I purposefully didn’t offer an explanation of our relationship. Sharon eyed me suspiciously but held her hand out to Grayson and smiled warmly at him. “We can’t stay long, Sharon, but I wanted to write a check. I talked to Carlos about the situation with funding.”
“A check? Really, Kira? We were prepared to close the doors until the grant comes through.”
“Well, now you don’t have to.”
Sharon blew out a big breath of relief and hugged me again. “You have such a huge heart, sweet girl. Bless you.” With tears shimmering in her eyes, Sharon turned to Grayson. “Would you like a tour of our facility? Kira, there are a few kids you know outside. They’d love it if you went and said hi.”
I glanced at Grayson, who was looking around the facility I’d spent so much time in. It was so strange to see him there; it felt like two distant worlds colliding. “Do you mind?”
He shook his head. “No, go ahead.”
Fifteen minutes later I’d written out the check and was outside playing a game of tag with the kids. I looked up, laughing breathlessly and trying in vain to control the hair wildly flying all around my face, and caught Grayson’s eye. A small boy named Matthew tagged me and shrieked with delight and I laughed again, high-fiving him for his stealth moves. Grayson was standing just outside the door, a small smile on his face as he watched our game. I felt momentarily embarrassed that I’d been so involved in child’s play and went jogging over to him, calling goodbye to the kids.
“Hey,” I said, attempting to catch my breath.
“Hey, yourself. Looked like you were having fun.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. They’re great kids. Ready to go?”
He nodded. “I can see why you’re so supportive of this place. It seems like they do great work.”
“They do. Not only do they make meals for the people in the area who are homeless, but they help them apply for services too. Most of the kids here have parents who work and nowhere to go after school. The center helps them with their homework and provides a safe place where they’re looked after and also have friends to play with. If not for the center, many of these kids would be targeted by gangs or offered drugs. There’s no telling how many lives they improve.”
His eyes lingered on me for a moment. “I can see why you’re a supporter.”
I nodded and his eyes moved to my cheek, a frown appearing, before he looked away. It still bothers him that I was hurt.
After saying goodbye to Sharon, we got on the road and headed back home. To my temporary home, I reminded myself. And yet, I was excited at the prospect of returning to my small cottage and seeing Charlotte, Walter, Virgil, and José, and sweet Sugar Pie Honey Bunches. The emotion concerned me slightly too. I was becoming attached to Hawthorn Vineyard, but it wasn’t my home. In fact, I’d be leaving there in a matter of weeks. Although Grayson had offered me the option to stay longer, I now knew that would only make things harder. I’d relented and been physical with him, beyond mere kissing, and while I didn’t regret it, I knew it would only make our parting difficult for me—even if in some small measure. I’d meant what I said to Charlotte—where my body went, my heart tended to follow, and I suspected that would be the case here. Perhaps it already was. I’d never let Grayson know it, of course, but I knew it was the truth.