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Gil Grissom's Romance Part 2

Chapter 14

Grissom glanced away from the crossword he was doing, a quick peek at what was around him; what he saw, what he felt, caused his eyes to linger. Softly, he chuckled.

"What?"

The word was muffled by the banana.

"We make a triangle," he said, pointing at the dog stretched between their feet. Sara's head was against his chest; her feet touched Hank's smooth brown back.

She laughed and closed her book. Her hand reached for his as she said, "We're happy you are home."

Tossing the newspaper toward the bedside table, he said, "Thomas Marks wants us to return to Costa Rica. What should I tell him?"

Sara rolled to her belly, finished swallowing the bite of banana, and said, "You want to go." It was a statement. Her hand stretched across his chest. "What if we went together—you could stay as long as you want but I'd return in two weeks."

Grissom nodded in Hank's direction. "What about Hank?"

The dog's ears twitched at his name.

"I think Nick would keep him for a couple of weeks—he has a back yard so it wouldn't be a big deal to walk him." Sara's eyebrow lifted. "And while your mom did a great job—well…"

Grissom's mouth twisted in a smile. "She loves her grand-dog."

They both laughed; the dog had gained ten pounds while in the care of Betty Grissom.

He tugged at Sara's hand; she moved so she lay beside him, their heads touching.

"You know my mom is still thinking about moving to Vegas. The college wants her to work in their foundation, working on raising money for scholarships—she'd love to do it."

Sara tucked her head against his neck. "I don't even want to think about it—but at some point, my mother is going to require more—more care." She sighed. "I'll cross that bridge when it gets here."

Taking her hand in his, Grissom brought it to his lips and kissed her fingers. "We need to talk about—about—you know—what happens next."

Another sigh, her head barely turning side-to-side, she said, "Maybe it's not going to happen." She made a sad sounding laugh. "Who would have thought we'd both have problems—after practicing such good birth control for years—and neither one of us has—has enough fecundity to make a pregnancy."

He hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. "We haven't reached the end—we need to decide how far to go."

A third heavy sigh in as many minutes came from Sara. She said, "I checked. If I'm full time, we'll get more insurance coverage for fertility issues which would cover two in vitro procedures after we've exhausted other-other procedures."

Kissing her forehead again, Grissom whispered, "I'm sorry about all of this." Sara had been the one who'd taken fertility drugs for three months with no success.

Another faint shake of her head and Sara said, "We can't be sorry about any of this, Gil. If—if it's meant to happen, it will. We'll get to the right one." Turning her head, she kissed him and then laughed softly. "And your first—the dog-child—needs a pee walk before we sleep."

Grissom rose off the bed, waving for Sara to remain. A soft whistle and Hank jumped off the bed, his tail swishing. Grissom found his shoes, headed out the door, noticing the dog took a short detour to a basket. He reached for the chuck-it, a long-handled stick with a scoop that held a tennis ball. Hank was losing weight.

Walking out the front of the building, quiet and deserted in the middle of the night, he tossed the tennis ball several times before man and dog turned around the end of the condominiums. A long-paved driveway ran along the back of the building, leading to garages.

He sighed as he observed what was happening to the private park area. While he and Sara had been absent from Vegas, and from the proceedings of the condo association, the area had been sold and now, new construction—a mixed development of small commercial buildings and additional condos—were going up. A large billboard announced all the amenities that would be coming.

For a while, he tossed the ball and the boxer sailed after it, trotting back to Grissom with a proud strut. Hank could play this game for hours, a simple activity repeated over and over. Grissom looked up at lighted windows, knowing the warm glow was from their bedroom. While tossing the tennis ball several times, he thought about the place he called home.

He knew every inch of the condo, each piece of furniture, even the way towels were folded and stored. He knew what plants grew in each window, where books were placed on shelves. And, suddenly, he knew what he wanted—what they should do. And if he could convince Sara...

By the time he returned, he was developing a plan—an approach—because he was fairly sure of initial resistance.

Sara was where he'd left her; on her belly reading a book. After several minutes of noisy greetings, he returned to the bed and found the newspaper folded on the bedside table, the crossword puzzle completed.

Playfully, he rolled it up and tapped Sara's head, saying, "You left me nothing!"

"You know you didn't know those," Sara said with a laugh. Closing her book, she added, "You had not made any progress in ten minutes."

Grunting in agreement, he pulled the book out of her hand and said, "I came up with an idea while outside. I want you to listen before objecting."

Sara sat up, puzzled by his words, nodding her head.

Grissom retrieved the newspaper from the floor and flipped through pages until he found what he wanted. He spread one page between them.

"Let's buy a house."

Within minutes, any opposition he thought Sara might have disappeared when she said, "Hank would love his own yard."

Not only did she raise no objection to a house, Sara knew the neighborhood, even the kind of house, she would like to live in. For an hour, they searched realtor websites looking at available houses—and found nothing in the desired neighborhood. But it did get their minds away from the ever-present fertility issues and without planning or scheduling, they found themselves with arms wrapped around the other and after a long passion-filled kiss, he felt heat radiating from her body.

"You are hot to the touch—burning up," he whispered.

She said nothing, but smiled as she led him back to their bed. With a swiftness that took them by surprise, they were undressed and Grissom was deeply kissing her, sliding his tongue along her teeth and she did the same, exciting him with her fervor and unabashed desire.

He was aroused, feeling as if he would explode if he did not have her immediately. They were clinging to each other, clothes in the way of exploration until he managed to yank her shirt over her head. Several moments passed as Sara struggled with his clothes but he paid little attention.

He kissed her neck, her shoulder, her breast, her nipples, and when he buried his face between her perfectly rounded breasts, it was several seconds before he realized she was trying to remove his shirt. He did not miss a kiss as the shirt cleared his head.

When he whispered he wanted to kiss every inch of her beautiful body, she murmured, "I'd like that."

He had intentions, but when Sara responded to his touch, he could not stop himself. His erection was hot between their flesh; he needed to take her. Now.

Bracing hands on either side of her, he raised himself up, stared into her eyes as she whispered, "Yes! Now."

Pushing his hands under her back, then her butt, he lifted her closer to him, fitting her body to his and slid inside her. She was warm, wet, and welded to him, thrusting to meet him. She moved her legs, wrapping around his back so he could go deeper in her soft core.

Grissom thought his heart was going to burst as he went deeper into her, enveloped by the most intimate act between a man and a woman.

Sara's soft voice whispered his name, adding, "Don't stop."

When they climaxed, it was difficult to know when one began and the other finished. Sara's orgasm seemed to go on for long moments as her body pulled him inside her, constricting against him until he did explode. And with his, he felt the fire along his spine, deep within his belly, until all sensible consciousness was lost for a while.

The next day, he and Sara drove from street to street in the neighborhood she had mentioned, a well-established, well-planned development from the sixties. He agreed with her choice—a neighborhood with actual front and back yards. Even side yards, Sara added. She knew the style.

"These are mid-century moderns. That one has a post and beam construction." When Grissom glanced at her, she laughed. "I've always seen these houses as perfection in the way to build a house—lots of light, open spaces."

When his mouth twitched into a smile, she added, "Don't laugh!" She pointed to one as they passed. "See how the entrance is sheltered—private. And a lot of them have courtyards and patios that are great spaces—connecting rooms with outside space."

"You've read up on these—why didn't you say you wanted a house?"

She laughed. Her eyes widened as she said, "I yearn for knowledge about a lot of things—and I read Dwell magazine. That's how I found this neighborhood—one of the houses was featured in it—so—so I drove around one day."

Reaching for her hand, he said, "Well, I haven't seen one real estate sign in a yard so we may have to wait if you really want one of these houses."

"We can wait. Get the finance part worked out."

Grissom's mouth angled into a grin. "Sure. I've got a plan—my mother has always loved the condo. If she's set on moving to Vegas—she says she would live on campus in their housing—but my mother isn't going to like that. We can offer her the condo—and she can pay the association fees."

He turned his face to Sara with that well-satisfied, 'thought this out' grin on his face.

"Sounds like you've been thinking about this!"

"No, just last night when I went out with Hank. Dog needs a place to play." When Sara was silent, he added, "It will work out. Get my mother into the plan and she'll give us time to find the place we want."

Sara returned a smug smile, saying, "We've got the trust money." Then a peel of laughter filled the car. "I sound like such a snob! 'Trust money' is a term I never thought I'd actually use in referring to my life."

"You don't have to use it for a house," he paused for a minute. "We could use it for—for—you know…"

Sara knew, nodding as his words faded. She said, "Ecklie has already offered a full-time position and I've put off making a decision about it. If we use insurance for fertility issues, then we can use the trust fund," she giggled again. "For travel and—and the future."

Grissom drove along shaded streets feeling confident and content. The sky was bluer, the sky brighter. Sara's voice was light, laughter filled, yet composed. Everything was amusing this morning; smiles coming quickly for both. Her smile was stunningly radiant.

His chest lifted—love was like that, he thought as he reached for her hand.

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