Grass Is Always Greener
Chapter 7
If Sara could use any word to describe the past month, she would use comfortable. Sitting at her desk in her home office, Sara stared at the waving curtains as they floated from the breeze she welcomed into her home. Smiling at the fresh scent emanating from her yard on this Sunday afternoon, her pen fell from her fingers as she let herself daze off slightly.
The past few weeks went by quickly. They'd gone for coffee almost every day, except for Fridays because Sara had only evening classes. They'd talk or sometimes they'd sit drinking as silence blanketed them, but not smothering. A few times Sara marked here student's papers. Hasty scribbling on tests and papers as she gulped down one or more cups off coffee, trying to keep awake. Usually more than two cups as he silently watched or offered to help before Sara would gently decline. Explaining that this was her class and he doesn't need to her marking on top of his stuff. But they never broke that little tiny tradition they started that first day. It was like an unspoken rule. There were no 'I'll see you first thing tomorrow' or 'See you in the morning'. It was just expected.
He would always show up on time, predictably on time, like her period. Like clock work. And Sara would shuffle in 5 minutes or so later, usually cursing about parking. But her coffee would always be waiting for her. Come to think of it, she never ever really bought her own coffee, after the first day, it just waited for her on the table by the window, across from him.
Venti Black Columbian coffee. That's what he always ordered. It was the same thing every time. How very… Grissom. Stuck in his routine, never breaking, never changing, but it was something Sara had learnt to love about I him, learnt to accept. He was comfortable to her.
Like her Venti Vanilla Soy Latte.
Sara blinked quickly, her thoughts pulled from her as she heard her house phone go off. Quickly, she reached for the cordless perched at the corner of her desk and looked at the caller.
She didn't recognize the name.
"Hello…?" She answered slowly, curiously.
Nothing- Nope… was that breathing?
"Hello?" Trying again, Sara's tone was a little curt.
"Sara? Sara, its Grissom- Gil Grissom." She pulled the phone from her ear, looking at the displayed name. Trying her hardest not to laugh.
"Are you sure, because my ID says Antonio Rodriguez…" He could hear her smirk.
"Previous owner-, are you busy?" He asked not giving her a chance to speak. "Because if you are, then never mind-"
It was her turn to cut him off. "No Grissom- Gil Grissom. No I'm not busy." She swore her heart fluttered a little. Don't Sidle…
"Good." He breathed.
Sara blinked, waiting for him to continue. "Uhm- Why Gil, why do you ask?" She prompted him.
"Oh..." Came a nervous laugh. "I was going to head to the park, maybe eat lunch and I thought you'd like to as well." He stated, rather than asking. Typical.
"I'd love to." Sara swore he could hear her smiling.
"Good, Avenue Park?"
"Yes, I'll supply the food." Sara started calculating how much of anything she had in her fridge.
"No Sara you don't-"
"Please, let me." Sara asked gently but sternly, there was no arguing.
"Alright, see you in an hour." He waited until Sara hung up before hanging up on his end.
Gil stared at the wall. Did he really do that? Why? His intention of coming to Texas was to get away from everything Sara. Instead, he spent almost every day with her.
He sighed as he stared at his feet. No matter how hard Gil tried, he couldn't let Sara Sidle go. He'd watched her from afar for so many years and he'd finally put himself out there. He let her love him, and she allowing him in return.
But then, then Natalie happened. Gil didn't think he could hate someone as much as he hated that girl. She took everything away from him and continued to do so from behind bars, in lock up. When he finished up the case, he spent every waking moment making sure that Natalie got the worst sentence she could. And she did.
Looking at the clock, Gil padded slowly to his room, changing into a pair of slightly faded jeans and a black T-shirt before heading to the bathroom. There he stared at his reflection, razor in his hand and shaving cream on the counter in front of him. Why would he shave? He tried to rationalize it in his head. He couldn't. He knew Sara liked it shaved, she liked when she could see all of him. But she also liked it when his beard was grown in. When he'd spend time between her legs, lapping at her folds as she cried his name in pleasure…
Gil blinked slowly and sighed. It was different now, not that he wanted it to be, but it just was.
Placing the razor back in his bag, he wet his face and trimmed his beard. Within moments he stepped from the washroom to put on his shoes.
He gave one last look at his empty condo before heading to his car.
To Be Continued...
