Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“What? No, I—” Instinctively, I brush my fingers against the bruises on my arms. They’re already turning that gross yellow-purple as they’re healing. “No, it’s silly. It doesn’t matter.” I look around, biting my lip. “So you took over Bowden’s office?”
“For now. The guys were giving me a headache about—” He breaks off, and I swear there’s a redness under his beard as he looks away. “Never mind.”
“What? No never mind!” I reach over and poke his arm. “About what?”
“About you,” he grumps, ducking his head and swiping his dark-brown hair back from his face.
My heart skips.
“Oh? What about me?” I ask innocently.
Grant glowers. “Woman, don’t think playing Miss Innocent is going to help you deflect today.”
I wince. “I’m that obvious, huh?”
“As much as I’d like to think you stopped by just to make me smile, I have a feeling that’s not all there is to it.”
Whatever I’d started to say just stops cold in my throat.
I’ve had a lifetime of sullen, withdrawn, walled-off-with-his-feelings Grant.
A whole freaking decade of avoiding what his silences mean, and everything changing the minute I break through them and it sinks in.
That’s why I have no armor when it comes to him being nakedly honest.
There’s no stopping how my face flares, burning like a fever.
“...you’re not smiling,” I stammer.
Grant stares intently for several long seconds.
Then he reaches for me with this slow, careful movement that makes me think of a giant shrugging whole mountains off his shoulders as he clasps my hands in his.
He envelops me in his warmth, his coarseness, his strength.
Like he’s showing me how he could eclipse me so easily, but he’d be protecting me with his shadow.
Then he smiles.
Slow, warm, just a flash of white teeth through his beard and a softening of his stormy hazel eyes until they look like my fondest memories.
Happier times set in dark bronze like bugs in amber.
Loyal friends and family—plus one beast of a man who never lost his faith.
God.
That quiet explosion of feeling blows my heart to pieces.
My breaths turn shallow and I’m pinned in place by this big manly smile that leaves me in stitches. It’s like witnessing a unicorn, rare and amazing.
I think I can still count on one hand how many times I’ve ever seen a real smile out of this man.
And it hurts so good that he’s smiling this way just for me.
“There. I’m smiling and you’re happy,” he rumbles matter-of-factly as his face relaxes, squeezing my hands. “Now tell me what’s wrong, Philia. I know you’re hurting.”
“Dude. You’re not supposed to read me that easy.” I swallow past the thickness in my throat.
“It’s easy because I spent every damn waking moment fixated on you,” Grant snarls. “I’d be ashamed of myself if I didn’t know you by now.”
Oh, crap.
If he keeps going, he’s going to break me for sure.
It’s like being caught in the eye of a storm, this one spot of calm while the fury of my life rages around me. I curl my fingers in his, biting my lip.
“You really wanna know? Ros and I had a big fight,” I whisper, everything tumbling out in this rush of upset. “I went to see her at the shop like I told you. I just wanted to know why she’s been avoiding me and Mom, but I almost didn’t recognize her. You were right. There’s something wrong—it totally creeped me out. She’s too jittery, her eyes are weird, and she’s starting to look hollowed out. But Aleksander was there, too. And she wouldn’t listen to a word I said. Not as long as she was hanging all over him like he hung the stars.” I shake my head angrily. “I don’t get it. I don’t get how he has this hold on her, but there’s something about it that scares me, Grant.”
“Hush,” Grant soothes.
He releases one hand so he can curl his fingers against the back of my neck, coaxing me in.
Next thing I know, I’ve buried my face in his shoulder, wrapping my free arm around his neck.
I’m not crying. Not yet.
But my entire body shakes with the force of holding it in.
Grant, he just—
He lets me be.
He weathers my confusion, my sadness, while I turn into a complete wreck against him, sheltering me, his hand kneading softly against the nape of my neck until the pressure relaxes me and I melt against him.
I shouldn’t feel this content when I was a total mess ten minutes ago, but that’s the thing about Grant.
Sometimes his silence is infuriating.
But sometimes, it’s medicine, knowing he’s as unshakeable as a mountain.
He finally breaks the stillness with a thoughtful growl, though, the vibration thrumming against me.
“I didn’t want to presume,” he says. “Not with Ros. But if we both think there’s cause for concern—”
“What can we do?” I whisper. “She’s a grown woman. We can’t override her own decisions and we can’t make her stop seeing him.”