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Shopping for Sara
Chapter 6
Seeking space
Lady Heather. Vegas has a small town atmosphere and invariably paths cross again and again. Especially in law enforcement. Especially when the worst kept secret in town is the business of sex. Especially when Gil Grissom had always taken a special interest in Heather Kessler. And everyone in the lab knew it.
Sara folded her legs together and put her head against the back of her sofa. She wanted to cry but had decided she was too irritated to cry when she actually wanted to stomp and scream. Instead she pulled a pillow into both hands and squeezed it tightly against her chest.
Two days—it had been two days since Grissom left her apartment and while she had seen him at work, it had been as if they were ships passing in the night, blinking signal lights across a dark ocean. And she had no idea where he was until she heard Hodges and a patrolman talking about an in-coming call mentioning Heather Kessler, a beating victim, and Grissom. Hodges was such a gossip—he knew everything, or thought he did, before anyone else. So while she did not know for certain, she had a good idea who Grissom was with and where he was. She hated when people gossiped about him—even Jim Brass belonged to those spreading rumors. She had gripped the pillow so tightly her hands trembled.
She had stopped at his place before returning to her apartment; he had not been at either place. For a while, she had kept herself busy with laundry and preparing a vegetable casserole. But hours later, she had not heard from him—and real sleep was impossible. She stared at the ceiling until dots appeared before her eyes; he could call—he could have left a message, sent a text. She sighed and blinked her eyes.
"If wishes were horses then beggars would ride," she said to herself. She was close to tears; sniffing and pinching her nose she attempted to stop the overflow of weepy sniffles. And in that second she heard a soft knock, followed by a key clicking in the lock.
She hated herself the moment she stood up knowing she would appear anxious, worried, or angry when he opened the door.
The door eased open and, with a somewhat shy look, Grissom smiled at her from five feet away. "Hey, honey. I thought you would be asleep." He stepped toward her in an attempt to kiss her, but she did not give him the chance as she turned her back.
"Do you want food? Hungry?" She asked, moving into the small kitchen.
He shrugged out of his jacket. "Yeah—no, something to drink—water is fine." When she opened the refrigerator, he walked to the sofa and sat down. He knew something was wrong when he had seen her face; he knew she was upset, he knew it involved his absence, and he knew she had heard about Heather Kessler.
When Sara handed him a cold beer bottle, he knew he had fallen in love with the perfect woman and he knew he was still learning how to live with her.
She sat on the chair instead of sitting beside him, pulling her knees to her chin; her arms wrapped around her legs. She had not been like this in months—a year. Suddenly, he realized a year had passed since the day he had come to her apartment after Ecklie had sent her home. He had forgotten until he saw the pain in her face. He wanted to apologize, say he was working, but truth was he had been with an acquaintance—no, a friend—who needed a friend. He took a long gulp from the bottle before placing it on the table in front of him. He watched as Sara's fingers rubbed her eyes; the unusual silence was so intense he could feel tension radiating from her body.
He stretched his hand across the space that separated them and wrapped his hand over hers. "You are the most wonderful thing that's happened to me for a very long time—perhaps ever." Her hand slipped into his. "Please forgive me for being a fool."
She looked at him, biting her lip, fighting back tears. He watched as she blinked several times and struggled to breathe normally. Finally, she said:
"I've been so worried—about you."
He gave a slight tug with his hand as he lifted his chin. She understood his signal and moved from the chair. He took her face in his hand and kissed her. Her mouth was soft, yielding, and slightly moist. His eyes closed as he savored the taste and feel of her. Without doubt he realized he could kiss her for hours and never get tired.
Eventually Sara drew back, took a deep breath, and said: "I don't know—I've got a lot to learn, haven't I?"
"And I about you." He kissed her again. "I am sorry—I should have called."
"Yes." She placed her head against his shoulder.
His hand held hers; his thumb stroked her palm. "You know who I was with?" He asked.
Sara nodded her head. "Everyone did."
"Sara," his hand went to her face. "She needed a friend. Someone who would not judge her."
Her head nodded against his hand.
"She's in a bad state. I'm not sure what's going to happen to her—I had to call it in…"
Sara interrupted. "I thought someone had been beaten at her place—more than usual or—or whatever they do there."
With her in his arms, occasionally shifting for intimacy, he related details only he would know—of finding a distraught and dangerously incoherent Heather trying, and almost succeeding, to beat Sneller to death, his attempts to calm Heather while dealing with a wounded Sneller, and calling for an ambulance. "Which meant the sheriff sent a dozen deputies and Heather was hysterical—refused to let go even when the EMTs arrived and called another ambulance. She did not want anyone to see her."
He stopped his narrative, wiping a hand across his face. "It's rough to see someone self-destruct like that, someone who is so—so composed."
Sara held his hands in hers. "She must be mad with grief."
"I think that's an accurate description." He said softly as he kissed her temple.
"Come to bed—unless you're hungry."
"Did you cook?" His lips nuzzled her hairline.
"I did. It will keep."
They stayed on the sofa for several quiet minutes.
"Sara—you know I love you."
"Yes," she whispered as she turned to face him. Gracefully, she stood. "Let's sleep, and then we'll eat."
Exhaustion finally caught both of them once they stretched out on the bed, and in a few minutes, Grissom was asleep. It took longer for Sara. She was oddly happy—to have him home, sitting and talking about Heather Kessler while his arms were securely around her own body. She snuggled against his sleeping body, placing her hand on his chest so she could feel the beat of his heart.
It was nearly six-thirty when they woke up and Sara work first and was looking down at him when he stirred. She smiled when his eyes opened. She saw his face make a grimace and said "Are you stiff?" then giggled at her double meaning. He always woke with a hard-on.
When he rolled onto his stomach, she began to massage his back. He lay on the bed with a happy grin on his face, his eyes closed.
Sara's hands moved from his shoulders to his neck. He had smooth skin like a baby, she thought, but she would never tell him that. "Did you sleep well?" She asked.
"I did—and I dreamed of you—good dreams. We were swimming in warm water," he laughed. "No, we were floating." He rolled and looked at her, taking her hands in his. "We should spend a day in the sun." He smiled. "Floating." He kissed her until she pulled him above her, and continued as he rediscovered how her body fit to his.
Grissom raised himself and slipped hands beneath Sara's shirt, pushing it over her head. He placed his lips against her skin, in the valley between her breasts, and slowly he caressed her with his mouth and his hands. A long sigh that was his name broke from Sara as pleasure radiated through her.
As his hands moved over her body, Sara managed to slip her hand between their bodies and slid her fingers and palm along his hardness, listening to the sound that broke from his throat, loving the feeling of knowing she could do that to him. Then Grissom's fingers were between her legs, wet from her, and everything opened to him. Their mouths found each other; Sara felt she had been parched with thirst and could not drink enough.
"Sara," Grissom said, and the passionate sound of her name held them, shutting out everything else as Sara opened herself and Grissom thrust deep inside her.
"Better," she murmured. He moved again. "Oh…much better," her voice was as soft as the early evening breeze that came through the open window in the next room. They moved together in rhythm their bodies never forgot, so closely entwined they made one shadow on the wall as the night came to their bed.
Later, Sara came awake with Grissom watching her. "Did I sleep long?"
"No," he said as he slipped an arm around her and brought her to his chest. "Thirty minutes or so—we've got plenty of time."
She closed her eyes again and placed small kisses on his chest, the hollow of his throat. "I like this," she said as she reached his chin and kissed it.
"My chin?"
"Your dimple." Her finger traced the line on his chin.
He kissed her smiling lips. "I'll be right back." He slid from the bed and walked naked into the next room. Sara watched him, compact, muscular, surprisingly graceful. She stretched in bed, remembering the weight of his body on hers, the look in his eyes, the sounds he made while making love. She loved him with a passion that astonished her with its intensity. She smiled as he returned.
"Yes?" he asked, sliding back into bed beside her.
"I love you."
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders; she noticed papers in his hand. Chuckling, he said: "I love you, darling, although I must admit I'm thinking about food right now."
Sara laughed. "Poor thing, you haven't eaten since—when? I have a casserole—it won't take long."
"Wait," he stopped her from getting out of bed. "I've got something to talk about." He unfolded the papers. "I've put my condo up for sale and apparently its worth much more than I paid for it—and it's in an excellent neighborhood." He glanced at her face to find her staring open-mouthed at figures on the page. "The realtor thinks I can get this price—quickly."
She took the papers from his hand.
"So I need another place to live—unless—I might be able to move in with my girlfriend…" His smile grew into a mischievous grin. "Or we could look for a new place—together—something bigger. Two bedrooms. Two bathrooms. A yard, maybe?"
"Gil, this is a lot of money!"
"Yes, it is. It will make a good down-payment on anything you can find in Vegas—well, anything reasonable. Not a penthouse on the Strip."
She rolled her eyes. "I can't do this."
"We'll live here then." He grinned as he leaned back against her pillows. "I'm beginning to feel rooted here. I like this room." He waved his hand. "I like the wall-to-wall bed thing we have going on."
Wide-eyed, she turned to him. "What about your things? All your stuff? It won't fit in here! You—you," she begin to laugh, "Is this a new way to get me to move in with you?"
Grissom said, "No, this is the way I get to live with you—we'll find a place for us—our place, make a home for us. It won't be mine nor yours but ours." He took the papers from her. "What about it?"
She sighed, nervous, hesitant. "You know I can't remember having a real home—even as a kid, we moved around so much, never lived in a place long enough to make it a home." Pausing, her fingers played with the edge of the bed sheet. "When I came here and got my own place—this apartment—it felt so good to have my own things." She made a sound that should have been a laugh but came out as a strangled cough. Her eyes met his. "Until I bought this bed I had never slept on a new bed—never—I thought I was in heaven, being able to stretch out and smell the newness of a bed." Her eyes dropped. "Pathetic, isn't it?"
He leaned forward and took her in his arms. "No, it is not pathetic. I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to ever tell anyone." She nodded as he continued. "The new bed I got was the first one I had ever purchased—my old one came from my mother's house." He laughed as she smiled. "That's why I want to do this. We enjoy each other—being together." He tilted his head toward the kitchen. "We like to cook together—and eat. We need a bigger place—out place."
She surprised him. By the next day, she agreed to talk with a realtor. And surprised him again when she did not want a house with a yard.
"We work at night, Gil, and sleep during the day. Why do we need a yard?"
Several weeks later, after a murder at a wedding, Grissom arranged the schedule so they had a night off together and an appointment with a realtor.
"I've watched this place," he explained as he pulled into one of the newest developments in Las Vegas. "It's like a mini-city for shoppers," he turned a corner. "On this side are condominiums—very private—with two-car garages for some of the units. We would not be far from work."
Sara smiled at his sales pitch. He had mentioned this place so often she had driven to it several days before, parked her car and walked around the shopping area. She liked the walkways and the aged appearance of the new buildings, and then she found not one but two small parks. She had also found the residential area—parking garages on the ground floor, plenty of windows on second and third floors. She liked the exterior.
And she liked the interior. The realtor showed two finished models and then showed three unfinished ones—or spaces with no walls to divide the area into rooms.
"It would be similar to building a house, except the outside is finished. You design what you want in the space," the realtor explained.
Grissom motioned to the realtor to stand aside while Sara walked through the vacant space. She looked out of each window. She opened a door and the two of them explored the garage area. Returning, she paced the length and width of the area. Each time she walked up the temporary steps between the two levels of the space, her smile broadened.
"We could do what we wanted with the space, right?" She finally asked.
"As long as it meets city code."
She smiled at Grissom. "I think this will suit us perfectly. Are you sure you want to spend your money?"
He did not hesitate when he replied, "Yes!"
A/N: Review-we see the numbers of readers and some of you are being very lazy-hit the "review" -it takes 60 seconds. The more reviews, the more chapters coming! And to all of you who are so great to send us comments-thank you! Love hearing from you!