They leave soon after, without even trying one of Grace’s muffins, and only when we’re alone again does she sink into her seat, lean over to me, and take my hand.
“I’m so sorry about that. I had no idea they were coming round today.”
I shrug. No way in hell am I letting her know just how much her ex pissed me off—or that I can’t get over the fact she kept her distance from me the entire time her mom was here.
“No big deal.” I drain my third coffee to underline that point. I’d planned on staying with her until midafternoon but I need to get away from this place. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
She doesn’t try to stop me. “Oh. Okay. Well, how about I come straight to your place after work on Tuesday? I could stay over if you like.”
I should tell her it’s over, whatever this is between us. Except I don’t know what it is, and I sure as hell don’t want it to end.
Fuck Russell. Fuck the lot of them. I cradle her face and lose myself in her gorgeous blue eyes. “You do that.”
Chapter Fourteen
Zach
Ever since Sunday I’ve been trying not to think about Grace, but it’s like she’s a permanent fixture inside my brain. No matter what I do, I see her face or hear her voice, and I should be batshit crazy by now. Who wants a chick to take up so much headspace? Especially when she’s not even around.
Except I’m fooling myself. I like thinking about her. Even after the fucked up meeting with her mom and ex I still can’t get enough of her. Christ, it’s a good thing my brothers can’t read my mind.
She arrives early on Tuesday afternoon, along with what looks like half of her kitchen. “You moving in?” I’m only half joking.
“I want to make up for our ruined Sunday breakfast.” She hauls a bag filled with ingredients from the trunk and I take it from her.
“Stop apologizing for that jerk.” She even texted me Sunday night about it. I can’t figure out why the whole thing still bugs me. She’s with me, not him.
“I’m sorry.” She clasps a couple of baking trays to her chest and flashes me a smile. “Whoops. Can’t help myself. But anyway, you were so nice about my muffins, even though you ended up not eating a whole one, so I thought I’d do a special home-baked delivery for you.”
“You’re gonna bake me some muffins?” It’s not really funny, but I have the urge to laugh. “I don’t know if the oven’s up for it.”
We leave her overnight case in the trunk and make our way inside. “No, I’m going to bake you some of my famous cupcakes. Well, admittedly, they’re not famousyet, but I live in hope.”
I’m not big on cake, but I sure as hell am going to eat whatever she makes. I can’t remember the last time anyone did something special for me that involved the kitchen.
My smile fades. That’s not true. Mom always used to knock a cake together for each of our birthdays, despite how, as soon as we hit our teens, Gage and I used to complain that we were way too old for that.
Not thinking about it.Trouble is I always think about our mom and dad this time of year. Can’t help it.
I dump the bag of ingredients on the kitchen counter top. “And they’ll never be famous if you don’t get your shit together.”
She gives me a sideways glance as she spreads her stuff out. “It’s not easy deciding to leave the family business, but Iamworking on it.”
“You’ve been working on it since the day we met.”
She starts to unpack the bag and doesn’t look at me. “Is this because Russell turned up on Sunday? Because I—”
“If you say sorry again I’m gonna tie you to my bed and gag you.”
She looks at me then. “Ooh,” she says, giving a fake shiver. “That’s so tempting. But you can tie me up after you’ve sampled my cupcakes.”
“Yeah.” I’m trying not to laugh but failing. “Doesn’t sound as dirty as sampling your muffins, though.”
I’m still grinning when she shoos me out of the kitchen like she owns it. “Don’t come back in here until I call you.”
…
For a couple of hours I work on my latest job, and manage to ignore the faint unease gathering in the back of my mind. It’s the same every damn year, although usually this compulsion to unlock the drawer starts a day earlier.
