by Anna Blakely
“Yeah.”
Inhaling deeply, he could still hear Kenny’s earlier comment as they stepped into the empty elevator. I want to be an architect when I grow up
Smacking the lower level button, Grant turned to Brynnon. “Does he know?”
“He does, but he refuses to believe the doctors are right.” She gave him a watery smile. “Like I said, he’s a fighter.”
They were both silent, lost in their thoughts as the elevator descended. On the way out to Grant’s truck, he shook his head. “How do you do it?”
Her forehead bunched. “Do what?”
He pushed the unlock button on his fob. “Come here and hang out with those kids and their parents, but still want children of your own. I’d think it would make you want to avoid the possibility of that type of pain and loss altogether.”
“The exact opposite, actually.”
Grant and Brynnon both climbed into the truck and shut their doors. As he drove away, Brynnon explained, “I thought the same thing, at first. Every kid in there is different. From their diseases and prognosis to their families and backgrounds...no two are alike. But after spending time with some of their parents, I realized there was one thing they all had in common.”
“What’s that?”
“Love.”
Grant scoffed. “Love?”
“I’m serious. It’s the one thing that gets them through it all. I mean, sure, they get upset. Sometimes, they get very angry. At the doctors, themselves. God. But in the end, every single parent I’ve spoken with has told me the same thing. They’d rather go through all that a million times over than to have never experienced the love they shared with their children at all.”
His hands curled around the steering wheel, his fists tightening as forceful emotions threatened to take him over. Fearful he’d spout off something that had nothing to do with Brynnon but would probably hurt her, anyway, Grant remained silent for the rest of the ride.
Back at her condo, he quickly went through the routine of clearing the place, using the time to get his shit under control. When he returned to the entryway where Brynnon had remained, as asked, he found her thanking someone on the phone before ending the call.
“Who was that?”
“I ordered some pizza. It’ll be here in twenty. I probably should’ve asked first, but I’m starving.”
“Pizza’s fine.”
He was hungry, too. And, truth be told, pizza was his weakness. Well, one of them. Grant stared at the woman standing before him.
He thought of the way she’d looked at him when they’d been discussing the possibility—or impossibility—of them being together. The way her eyes reflexively found his when she and Angie had been talking about him while at the kids’ party.
It wasn’t the first time a woman had propositioned him or indiscreetly talked about him with her friends. But it was the relief Grant saw in her eyes the moment she saw him, and that dumbass reporter walked away that really hit home.
She trusts me
Just a few short days ago, he wouldn’t have cared one way or another. Now, Grant realized it mattered. A lot.
Even the way she’d talked about still wanting kids, despite knowing everything the ones in the hospital were going through. At first, he’d thought her crazy, but now...
If he was being completely honest with himself, Grant was in fucking awe of her. Though their situations were different, she too, had experienced loss and heartache. Unlike him, however, Brynnon hadn’t let hers define who she was as a human being.
She still believed in the possibility of love and happiness. A future filled with joy and peace. Happily ever after. All the things he’d closed his eyes to for so many years.
The more time he spent with her, the more Grant found himself reconsidering everything he’d come to believe as truth. He just wasn’t sure what to do with it all.
“I got two meat-lovers.” Her voice broke through his thoughts. “I hope that’s okay.”
Meat lovers? A woman after my own heart.
His heart.
The saying had been around for years, but it had never rang more true for Grant than in that moment. And if he wasn’t careful, this woman could very well take his.
****
Chapter 9
Sitting with her legs crisscrossed on one end of her couch, Brynnon moaned as she took a bite. After swallowing it, she licked her lips in appreciation. “I swear, pizza is the most perfect food in the entire world.”
Next to her, Grant gave her an odd look before returning his focus to his own slice. He’d been acting a little strange ever since they left the hospital. She just wasn’t sure why.
Deciding to go for a semi-normal conversation, Brynnon reached for the open box on the coffee table and grabbed another piece. “My dad’s not a big fan, so Mom would wait until a night she knew he wouldn’t be home for dinner to order it. When we were tiny, Billy and I used to be fascinated by the fact that she could just make a phone call, and within a few minutes, someone would be at the door with our food. Mom would always tell us not to tell dad, and she’d hide the empty box at the bottom of the trash so he wouldn’t see it.” She smiled. “It’s silly, but those are some of my favorite memories with my mom.”
“Why do you think that’s silly?”
Brynnon swallowed a bite. “I don’t know. I guess with all the fancy trips and things we took, I’d expect something like that to be at the top of the list, but they’re not. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that time with her, too. I guess maybe those nights at home stick out because, somehow, they just seem more...real.” She blinked and looked back up at him. “Sorry. I’m probably not making much sense.”
“No, I get what you’re saying.”
That surprised her. “You do?”
Grant hesitated, almost as if he weren’t sure whether or not he wanted to say whatever it was he was going to tell her. But then he began to open up more than he had the entire time they’d been together.
“My mom died of cancer my senior year in high school.”
“Oh, Grant.” She reached out and placed her hand on his knee. “I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head. “It was a long time ago.”
“What about your dad?”
He let out a silent laugh. “Dad’s a whole other story.”
“I’ve got time.” She removed the hand from his leg. “Plus, I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.”
One corner of his mouth rose. Damn, the man was even more gorgeous when that happened. She couldn’t imagine what he’d look like with a full-blown smile spread across his face.
With a deep breath, he opened up some. “Not much to tell. He’s a truck driver. Or, at least he was. I don’t really know.”
“You don’t know what your father does for a living?”
“He never was much of a father. As in, at all.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. When mom found out she was pregnant with me, he denied I was his and took off. I saw him a handful of times growing up, but he married someone else who already had two kids, and that became his only family.”
“Do you two ever talk?”
Grant tossed his empty paper plate onto the coffee table and shook his head. “Haven’t spoken to the man in over twenty years.”
That broke Brynnon’s heart and pissed her off, all at the same time. “What a gigantic asshole.” She quickly added, “Him. Not you.”
A low chuckle escaped the back of his throat. “Pretty much.”
She thought for a moment. “He didn’t even reach out to you after your mom passed away?”
“Nope.”
Brynnon pictured Grant as a young man. A boy who’d lost everything just as he was preparing for his future.
“Did your mother ever marry?”
“Once. When I was about nine. Jack was an abusive asshole, though. At the time, I was too young and too small to do anything to stop it. Mom put up with it for a while.”
“Oh, Go
d. What happened? How did she get away?”
“One night, the bastard came home drunk and decided to lay into me.” Pain from the heart-wrenching memory was crystal clear in his eyes. “The next morning, after Jack went to work, Mom packed up what little stuff was ours, and we left. We stayed with her parents for a while until she could afford an apartment of her own. Grandma and Grandpa helped us out as much as they could, but it was still hard for mom. Being a single mother, especially back then, was tough. There was more of a stigma those days, which made it even harder.”
“Where are your grandparents now?”
“Buried in the cemetery next to my mom.”
“I’m sorry.”
For the next several minutes, the two sat in silence. Grant lost in his memories, Brynnon absorbing everything she’d just learned. When her thoughts returned to his dick of a father, renewed anger against a man she’d never met began to boil over.
“How could your dad abandon you like that? I don’t understand how any parent could do that. And he’s even worse because he denied his own son his love but then turned around and gave it all to someone else’s kids.”
Typical Grant, he just blew it off. “It’s no big deal, Bryn. It doesn’t matter.”
Brynnon loved hearing him use the shortened version of her name, but ignored it. She needed him to see she could feel his pain. That the anger and resentment he kept buried inside wasn’t his to bear alone.
“Like hell, it doesn’t. It’s obvious it still bothers you, and it should.”
Brynnon slid closer to him. So close, in fact, her crossed feet were now touching his outer thigh.
“You said it was mainly just you and your mom growing up, right? And you were, what, eighteen when she died? I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. How did you get through it?” She asked.
Sadness mixed with the bluish gray in his eyes as he stared back at her. “The day after I graduated high school, I enlisted in the Navy.”
Without thinking, she placed her hand back onto his leg. “A lot of kids—especially boys—that age would have acted out. They would’ve turned to violence or drugs. Dropped out of school, but you didn’t. Despite the loss you’ve suffered, you went on to make something of yourself.”
Grant huffed out a breath. “I wouldn’t exactly say I didn’t act out.” He gave her the tiniest of smirks. “After all, I went on to specialize in explosives so I could blow shit up.”
Brynnon grinned. “You went on to serve your country and risk your life protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves.” She slid her hand over his fist and squeezed. “I know I didn’t know your mom, but I do know she would’ve been very proud of the man you turned out to be.”
Choking back tears, she suddenly wished his mom was still here so she could see what an amazing son she’d raised. Despite her best efforts, a tear escaped the corner of her eye.
Grant turned, shifting against the cushion to face her more directly. With his free hand, he cupped her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away the tear. “Don’t cry for me, Princess,” he whispered softly.
“I can’t help it,” she admitted shakily.
With more tears threatening to fall, Grant moved his thumb down to her quivering lip. Swiping it back and forth slowly, his gaze dropped to her mouth before rising back up to her watery eyes. It was the only warning she had before he kissed her.
Leaning in, Grant pressed his lips to hers. The powerful surge arching between them was so strong it was almost as if she’d been struck by lightning. Brynnon nearly jerked away for fear it was too much. Before she could, his tongue began running along the seam of her lips.
Without hesitation, she opened up for him. Her tongue reached out, joining his in the most sensual, sexually charged kiss she’d ever experienced. Desire flared inside her, and before she knew what she was doing, Brynnon had risen to her knees and was framing his face with her hands.
A deep grunt escaped his throat, and Brynnon swallowed it whole as she let out a tiny mewling sound of her own. The kiss had started out slow, tentative. But it didn’t take long for it to become all lips and teeth and tongues as they both finally allowed their mutual attraction for one another to come to life.
Before she realized what she was doing, Brynnon swung her left leg up over his and climbed onto his lap. Straddling him, now, she could feel his swollen cock pressing against her needy core. Grant grunted again, his hips thrusting upward, his body searching for the release she was more than willing to give him.
“Brynnon,” he moaned her name as his lips traveled across her jawline and lower. His rough whiskers only added to the already incredible sensation.
As if they had a mind of their own, Brynnon’s hands moved from his face and began their journey downward. She could feel his sculpted chest and abs through his button-up shirt and couldn’t wait to see what he looked like without it.
With that in mind, she began to untuck the shirt from his belted waistband. The second she’d pulled enough of the material free, Brynnon slid her hands underneath and felt skin-to-skin what she’d only been able to imagine.
On a hiss, Grant’s muscles contracted beneath her touch as he brought his mouth back to hers. Brynnon moaned loudly as she began tasting him again, knowing right then, she’d never get enough.
Without conscious thought, she ground her denim-covered sex against the hard bulge beneath her, desperate to relieve the explosive pressure causing her most intimate muscles to ache to the point of pain.
“God, Grant,” she panted against his lips. “I want you.”
Brynnon dropped her hands to his belt and began pulling the tight leather free from its metal buckle. She’d never felt this way before. It was as if she’d die if she didn’t find release soon. From what she could feel pressing against her throbbing pussy, Grant was in the same boat as she was.
The end of the belt popped free. Brynnon began frantically working to undo the button on the waist of his dress pants when a large hand clamped down over hers, stopping her. Tearing his lips from hers, Grant let out a guttural groan.
“What’s the matter?” she choked out.
“Stop.”
The rough order left her blinking. “What?”
“Jesus. Fuck.” Grant looked up at her, both astonished and confused, almost as though he had no clue where he even was. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head. Cursing under his breath, he made a move to get up. To get away from her.
What the hell? Without much choice, Brynnon slid awkwardly back onto the couch and let him stand. She watched as Grant began pacing back and forth.
“God, Brynnon. I’m sorry.” He stopped and ran a hand through his hair, regret pouring out of him as he looked back at her. “I’m so sorry. That was—”
“Incredible.” She answered for him.
His chest heaved with each of his ragged breaths. “I was going to say a mistake.”
Ignoring the sharp dagger piercing her heart, Brynnon shook her head. “I disagree.” Legs still trembling from the most incredible kiss she’d ever experienced, she stood and walked toward him.
“You don’t understand. I’ve never done that before.” Lips pressed into a thin line, Grant shook his head. Pissed at himself for actually acting human for a change.
In an attempt to lighten the mood, Brynnon gave him a sly smirk. “You’ve never kissed someone before?”
The scowl she’d grown accustomed to returned as he ran his hand over the same scruff she’d felt against her skin only seconds before. “You know what I mean. I’ve never crossed the line on a job like that.” He exhaled loudly. “It was unprofessional, and I would understand if you want to have me replaced by a different R.I.S.C. operative.”
“Are you serious?”
“You have every right to be upset.”
“The only thing I’m upset about is the fact that you stopped.”
Grant swallowed, regret swimming in his eyes as they locked with hers. “I never should have started.”
&n
bsp; “I think you need to ease up on yourself just a tad. It was just a kiss, Grant. Not a proposal. Besides, it’s not like you were the only one participating.
The muscles in his jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth together. “Doesn’t matter. But regardless, I assure you it won’t happen again.”
Wanna bet?
Those two little words damn near fell off her tongue, but Brynnon held them in. She knew he’d felt the same, heart-stirring connection she had. He just needed a little more time to accept the inevitable.
Deciding to let it go—for now—Brynnon went back to the coffee table and began cleaning up the mess from their dinner. From behind her, his deep voice reverberated through the small room.
“I’m going to go check the perimeter one last time. I’ll...see you tomorrow.”
Without turning back around, she answered, “Okay.”
He cleared his throat before asking, “Did that reporter happen to tell you which newspaper he works for?”
Closing her eyes for a moment, Brynnon forced the sting in her eyes away. Taking more time than she really needed to pick up the napkins, plates, and leftover pizza, she told him, “The Dallas Observer.”
“While we were at the hospital, I texted my friend about getting a tux. She found a rental place downtown that keeps several in stock. She checked, and they have a few in my size. I have an appointment there at eight-thirty.”
Great. So not only had the man kissed her senseless and then pull away before they could get to the really good part, she now had to spend tomorrow morning watching him parade around in a tux.
Freaking fantastic.
“Also”—his deep voice rumbled again—“I noticed you didn’t have anything in particular scheduled for the afternoon, so I’d like to go to the Observer.”
Brynnon turned around. “Why?”
“I want to speak to the reporter. At the very least, he needs to understand approaching you the way he did is unacceptable.”
“I don’t need you fighting my battles for me, Grant. Besides, I told you it was nothing. I already handled it.”
