He rubbed his hand through his hair and looked down at me. “I asked Darian Cole as a last-ditch effort to save the place.” His jaw tightened. “He said yes as a favor to my dad, after I gave it to him at barely above cost.” He shook his head. “I hate working with him—he reminds me so much of Dad. But he’s all I got right now. And if this place fails…”
I reached up and ran my hand down his clenched arm. “What does it mean if it fails?” It felt far more than just financial.
His stance was rigid and his eyes were hard. “This is my last chance to prove my dad wrong.”
I leaned my head against his shoulder. Thinking of what to say, I took a slow breath. “Grant. Your dad’s dead. I’m pretty sure he has zero opinions on your business venture.” I looked up to his tired eyes and hoped he could let out some of the anger and pain. “And even if he does, it sounds like he was a miserable man. You shouldn’t care what he thinks.”
“True.” The topic sagged his shoulders. “I know logically that I need to let him and my anger go, but it keeps seeping in.”
“Tell me about your mom.”
His shoulders eased. “She is great, honestly. I should go see her more than I do. That’s the other thing I’m trying to do better at.” He grinned, as I followed him to the truck. “Where to, or are you sick of me yet?” Grant bumped against my shoulder.
It was 6 p.m. We had been together for six hours, and I’d hardly felt the time pass. “Are you up for a Grant movie date night?”
His eyes met mine. “Time to meet the competition, eh?”
I chuckled. “If you can handle it. The men from that era set a pretty high bar…” I remembered what Mom said about the difference between real and fiction. “You know, except the whole women couldn’t own property or attend college.” I grimaced.
Grant smirked. “Yeah, they sound like real charmers.” His fingers curled gently around mine as he lifted my hand to his lips. He hesitated, I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. My breath hitched, and he pressed a slow, soft kiss to my skin. Warmth radiated from his lips, up my arm, and into my chest, making it impossible to look away.
Holy Casanova, this man!
Chapter Eleven
Back at my apartment,we put in an order to Leo’s Pasta. I thought about branching out, but Grant insisted on the authentic Cary Grant movie date night experience.
He sat on a pink swivel stool and looked around my apartment with a contented smile. “It feels very you.”
It was me. From the vintage movie posters to the mint mixer.
“So why were you setting up your mom?” Grant eyed me curiously.
“Last string of guys I dated, things started good, but soon they began belittling my interests, size, or they cheated, so…” I pursed my lips. “I decided playing Cupid was far more fun and safe, but I ran out of single friends.” I shrugged. “Between that and the vision of my mom happy and spoiled…”
Grant spun the chair around so he was facing me. “What made you change your mind?”
I grinned. “Mom.”
He waited for me to continue.
“After the whole Kismet thing, that was part of my forgiveness agreement. I had to say yes to the next person who asked me on a date, and I had to give it an ‘honest try.’” I did air quotes around it.
“Would you have said no to a date with me without your mom’s demands?”
“Yep.” My lips pinched. “Dating feels easier to avoid than finding the right fit. Do you have a specific movie in mind?”
He stood, stepping toward me with a contemplative gaze. “How about whichever you saw first if you have it?” He reached out to me and I placed my hand in his.
“That would beMy Favorite Wife.” I nodded. “So why the change in dating for you?” I led him to the couch.
“Honestly, it was your mom for me as well.”
I stopped and turned to face him. “My mom?
“Yeah.” He stepped next to me and brushed his hand along my cheek. “Sounds crazy, but in that moment when she asked what I would do if she was my mom…it kinda shook the crazy possessed hold that work had on me.” He nodded to the couch and we both sat, my legs brushing up against his. “I remembered I hadn’t called my mom in weeks. I remembered part of my plan was to have a better balance with work and life.”
There was a knock on the door, and I went and opened it. Peter was giddy when he saw Grant standing behind me. “I didn’t think this was all for you.” He held up the bags of food. I grabbed the bags and set them on the coffee table. “I even threw in some extra cupcakes.” He leaned toward Grant. “She loves chocolate cupcakes.”
