“Sounds good.”
She looked around the living room while he was busy in the kitchen. He had more books than she would have suspected, nestled into a cozy reading nook with a sunken chair and table. They were well loved and obviously used.
She glanced at the side table. He had given her a few books from his collection to enjoy. A romance novel. That made her grin. A sci-fi novel she had never heard of, and the newest James Patterson novel. She appreciated his choices. He could have given her something from his non-fiction section, and she was flattered that he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t enjoy reading something like that for pleasure.
She imagined him in the chair, a drink sweating on the aged wood. Were there coasters? She peered at the table top, looking for water damage and was shocked when she saw an inlayed chess board instead.
Did he play?
He didn’t seem the type. Interesting.
“Here we are. One serving of succulent roast beef and a mountain of potatoes and carrots. I hope you’re hungry.”
She tore her attention away from the chess table and offered him a smile. “I am.” He handed her the plate, her mouth watering. “I feel a little guilty. This must have taken a long time to make.”
“Nine hours, to be exact.”
“Wow. You really don’t have to go through the trouble, you know. I’m not super picky.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry. The Crockpot did most of the work.”
“A Crockpot?” She eyed him, reevaluating. “You?”
“What? It doesn’t work with my manliness?”
She laughed. “Not at all.” She scooted over on the couch, making room for him. “So, I noticed the table over there.” She gestured to the reading nook. “Do you play?”
“Yeah. As often as I can.”
“Chess. Wow. I hadn’t guessed that.”
“Checkers.”
“What?”
He grinned. “I use the table to play checkers.”
“Checkers.” She drew the word out, testing its sound before laughing. “Seriously?” He nodded, then took a huge bite of meat. “Unbelievable. Well, it fits more with your manly outdoorsiness.”
“Hey.” He pretended offense. “Checkers involves quite a bit of finesse I’ll have you know.”
“Right.”
“Want to play a round or two instead of the movie?”
He looked so hopeful, she could only chuckle her agreement. “Why not? But I warn you, I haven’t played since I was a kid.”
“That’s okay. The rules haven’t changed. Move diagonally, hopping over your opponent’s pieces to capture them. You can only move forward until you hit the opposite side of the board and get kinged.” He threw her a lopsided grin that had her feeling as if she were seeing a glimpse of the boy he used to be. “Or queened in your case.”
“Hey! I can be a king if I want.”
“Technically, you can’t.”
Her eyes narrowed playfully. “This is the day and age where women can be anything they want.” She laughed, unable to keep up the pretense. “It doesn’t matter in any case. I would much prefer to be a queen. Queen Elizabeth the First was amazing.”
“Touché. Red or black?”
“Red.”
He moved the table over to the couch, setting the pieces up with relish. She sat back against the cushions, enjoying a bite of rosemary flavored potato. She liked him like this. Carefree. Happy. She felt relaxed around him, enjoyed having her guard down.
She could be herself around him and he accepted that. Accepted her. It wasn’t often that she was fully at ease with others. Her grandmother and James had been the only two in her life whom she felt completely comfortable with.
“Ready? You take first move.”
They were several turns in when she realized that she was going to lose. He was shrewd, calculating while playing checkers. She wouldn’t have guessed that about him.
“Hey! You cheated.”
She looked at him innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yes, yes you do. You completely jumped a row to capture that piece.”
“I admit nothing.” She speared a carrot and pointedly chomped. “Looks like I’m catching up though.”
His eyes narrowed before he threw back his head and laughed. “Wow. You really are something.” He looked at her with admiration. “I hadn’t expected you to cheat. I guess I’ll need to keep a closer eye on you.”
The way he said it had her stomach jumping in pleasure. It was whispered in a way that tempted closeness between them, a deeper connection.
But did she want that? Could she afford to get closer to him? Did she even have a choice?
She could protect herself. Caring didn’t equal dependence. There was nothing wrong with caring.
I already do, her heart whispered.
Finished eating, they put their plates aside and continued playing. One round bled into another as they laughed at her cheating attempts and his playful indignation each time she tried.
“Do you think our grandparents were like this?” she asked as Grant set up for another round.
He paused, playing with the pieces in his hands. “I am a lot like my grandpa, and from what you’ve told me, you seem a lot like your grandma. It would make sense.”
“I wish I knew what happened.”
“Why do you think anything happened? They could have drifted apart. That happens.”
“I know. I just…”
“Feel like something happened,” he finished for her.
“Yes. Do you think we’ll ever know?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll do whatever we can to find out. I plan to keep looking through his things when I get the time.”
“I could search through more of her boxes, but I don’t think we’ll find anything. In any case, I’ll start in a few days when I go back home.”
“About that…” He hesitated, setting the pieces aside. “I think you should stay here.”
“I am staying here,” she said, refusing to acknowledge what he meant.
“After you get your brace on.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not going to move in here, Grant. I need my own place.”
He smiled, but it never reached his eyes. “I’m not asking you to give up your place.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I think you should stay here. Temporarily. For safety reasons.”
“Safety reasons?”
“Yeah. Look, you were already attacked once. It’s possible that it could happen again, and I’m not willing to take the chance.”
“It’s not your choice to make. It’s mine.” She wished she could stand up and pace. She felt caged, trapped.
“I know that.” He raked a hand through his hair before taking both of her hands in his. “I’m not asking you to give up your independence. I’d never do that. And this isn’t forever. I’d just never forgive myself if something else happened to you. Do you understand how much this kills me? To see you hurt and know that this happened because of me, because of the orchard?”
Her eyes widened. “Grant, you’re not responsible for what happened.”
“Yes. I am.” He stood, turning away from her.
She grabbed his shirt, forcing him to twist around. “This isn’t your fault. It’s whoever was driving the car. Whoever is trying to hurt you.”
He gripped her arms, pulling her up to stand while helping her balance. “Don’t you get it? I can’t protect you when you aren’t here.”
“I don’t need you to protect me.”
“I know. I know that. You are the most capable woman I’ve ever known. I know you don’t need me. But I need to protect you.”
Before she could say anything, his mouth crushed down on hers. He kissed her savagely, giving her no quarter, no room to object.
He gripped her clothes as if t
o tear them, but he reined in the impulse. Instead, he pulled her gently against him, using his body to anchor her weight, protecting her leg.
He shielded her from pain even through his desire.
She felt her heart yielding at his care.
He lashed her with kisses, laying siege to her carefully constructed fortress. She tried holding out, tried to block him from her heart.
But as her heart and body gave in to his gentle assault, her mind closed off in defeat.
Wanting to soothe him, she ran her hands up and down his back with gentle pressure. “You’re right. I’ll stay,” she said softly. Although she hated losing her privacy, he had a point. She was safer here with him.
His eyes flashed before he took her lips again. He took a step toward the couch with her still in his arms.
Trying to help him, she stepped forward with her injured leg. A shock of pain seared up her leg, wrenching a scream from her chest. If Grant hadn’t already been holding her, she would have fallen to the floor.
Scooping her up, he laid her gently on the couch. “What can I do?” His voice was hoarse, both with passion and fear.
“Nothing. Nothing. It will pass.” She stopped him when he moved away from her. “Wait. Where are you going?”
“I’m getting you some more pain meds and ice.”
“No. It’s already easing. Stay with me.”
He looked grim. “I need a minute, Natalie.”
“Why?”
“I think it’s obvious.”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“I need to or else I won’t be able to stop touching you.”
“You don’t need to.” She leaned up, but was careful to keep her leg elevated. “I want you to touch me. I want to be with you, Grant.”
He shook his head forcefully. “We can’t. I’ll hurt you.”
“I’m willing to try.”
“But I’m not.”
Her body screamed in protest. “Grant, this is fine. I’m fine.” She took a deep breath before looking up at him. “Please.”
She could see how the word undid him, but he held firm.
She knew it was only out of concern for her, but her body didn’t care. “What gives you the right to make all the decisions?”
“I’m not making all the decisions. I’m making my own.” She thought she was going to murder him when he had the audacity to smile. “I’m sorry but we’re going to disagree about this. So, should I have James pick up some of your things tomorrow? Or would you like me to go get them myself?”
She sputtered, unable to find words to challenge his arrogance.
“No preference? All right then, I’ll call James and have him put a few things together. It will allow me to stay here in case you need me.”
“You arrogant jerk! You think after this I’d stay here? With you?”
“Oh. You’ll stay here with me all right.” He bent down and gave her a quick kiss. “You’re just mad. But don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make it up to you.”
“Sweetheart?” she shrieked.
“What’s the matter, darlin’?” His voice was coated in a country drawl.
“Grant. In about two seconds, I’m going to start screaming like a psycho, and possibly, start ripping out my hair. Or, even better, yours. Have James or you or whoever pack whatever you’d like.”
“All right, then,” he said calmly.
At that moment, she knew she’d been played. He had known exactly the right button to press to make her agree.
She would be bloody furious, if she wasn’t so astonished.
Natalie’s eyes glazed over as she stared at her blank screen. There were no images in her head, no color, nothing.
“How are you holding up?” James edged her desk.
“How would you be?” She let out a pent-up breath. “I can’t believe they got the fabric order wrong. What are we going to do? We can’t use that in this line.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know what to do. Our deadline is looming. There isn’t time to reorder. We’ll have to use it.”
“In the current line?”
“No.” She shook her head forcefully. “I’ll have to redesign everything.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Tell everyone to head home and to take tomorrow off. I want them all refreshed because once we start up again, they’ll be sewing their fingers off through the night.”
“All right.” He lowered his voice. “How is everything else going? With Grant, that is.”
“Fine. All right.” Her brows furrowed. She wasn’t quite sure what to say about him. She had been living with Grant the last few weeks. Things had been friendly, fun. Casual even. But something was off.
“Fine?” he supplied.
“Yes, fine,” she snapped. “I’m sorry.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m worn out, stressed out, and just in a bad place. Everything has been all right with Grant. We’ve gone out a few times, caught a movie or two, dinner. The usual sort of things when dating. I just happen to be living with him.”
“Are you two sleeping together?”
“Like sleeping or sleeping?”
His lips quirked. “Either.”
“Surprisingly, no. We have a good connection and I believe that we both care about each other, but the physical aspect hasn’t gone beyond some intense, blow-your-brains-out kisses. And we aren’t sleeping in the same room either. I don’t want that.”
“Ah.”
“Don’t say ‘ah’ like you’re all knowledgeable,” she grumbled.
“But I am.” She hunted for something to throw at him. “All right.” He held up his hands while laughing. “You don’t need to kill me.”
“Oh, be quiet.”
He tried to swallow his smile. “You heading out too?”
“Yeah. I’m blocked. No ideas are going to flood to me today.”
“Be safe, then. I’ll see you in a few days. Keep me posted and let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” She loved that she could always count on James.
Gathering up her purse and coat, she walked out of the building with the rest of her staff. Since her attack a few weeks ago, she’d been especially careful about being alone.
James held the door open while she maneuvered through with her crutches.
She was grateful that her left leg was injured instead of her right. This way, she still had a little of her independence, could drive herself around.
The lights in Grant’s windows were a beacon, welcoming her home through her exhaustion and worry.
But this wasn’t her home. It was where she was staying, temporarily. And Grant wasn’t a permanent person in her life.
But for just a moment, she looked through her windshield at the house, wondering what it would be like if she belonged.
Grant would come out, greeting her with a kiss before helping her inside, the two of them sitting down to enjoy the dinner he had made. Because they’d both know that she was hopeless in the kitchen.
They would ask about each other’s day. Listen to the other’s problems, and encourage when needed.
She could use some of that encouragement now.
Wiping the fantasy away, she got out of the car, and walked into the house.
Hearing her, Grant looked up from the couch. “Hey, you’re back early.”
She put down her purse with a thud, hanging the keys on the aged key ring by the door. “Yeah.” She didn’t need to say any more.
“Problems?” He moved from the couch, assisting her into a chair. She didn’t need the help, but she appreciated it.
He moved behind her, rubbing her shoulders.
“The wrong fabric was ordered for the collection. It won’t fit with what we were doing. And there isn’t any time to reorder.” She arched toward him, sighing in pleasure.
“Is there anything else you could use?”
“No. That was the main fabric. We wouldn’t be able to get as much as we need to ma
ke it cohesive.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to use the fabric. I need to redesign some things, try to make it work.”
“Will you scrap the whole collection?”
“I hope not. We’ve put so much work into it.” Her head hung heavily. “What a waste.”
His fingers worked on a particularly stubborn knot in her shoulder. “Would it be worth it?”
“Maybe.” She puffed out a breath. “I don’t know. I don’t have any ideas. I just sat and stared at a blank screen for hours. Nothing. Zilch.”
“What about the things you’ve been sketching the last few weeks?”
“The World War II inspired stuff? I don’t think that would work.”
“Why not?” He stopped rubbing and moved in front of her. “They were really good.”
Her head cocked to the side. The fabric would fit those designs. And she had already sketched enough for an entire collection. Could she make it work? “It’s a complete opposite from what we’ve already done.”
“Does that matter?”
“I guess not.” The idea wrapped around her brain, surging new creative life into her. “It could work,” she said, excitement tingeing her voice.
“Good.” Grant nodded his pleasure. “Dinner?”
“Sure.”
They headed into the kitchen, enjoying the roasted chicken he’d prepared.
“How do you always know what to say to help me?”
He shrugged. “We’ve been living together for weeks now. I’ve gotten to know you pretty well.”
“Yeah, but…” she gestured in the air with her fork, trying to find the right words. “It’s like, you’re always dead on. It’s crazy.” She rushed on before he could reply. “And nice. There aren’t very many people that know me that well.”
“I’m happy that I can help you.”
They smiled at each other, bringing her earlier fantasy to mind. This evening had played out exactly as she’d imagined. But it wasn’t going to last.
It couldn’t, she reminded herself, but there wasn’t a strong conviction behind the sentiment. Something was shifting within her. Maybe it already had.
She gulped water. Searching her heart, she realized that Grant had partially wedged himself in there.
How had that happened? She frowned. Or better yet, when had it happened? They’d been casually dating. No strings, no attachments. But for some reason, it hadn’t stayed that way.
Sunkissed Page 9
