Grant was an attractive guy with dark eyes and hair, and beautifully tanned skin, but he was also one of the guys whoknewhow good looking he was.
At twenty-eight, he’d begun to make a name for himself in the construction industry as one of the top architectural engineers. He was always charming when he came in, if not a little flirtatious.
“Good afternoon,” I greeted him with a professional smile, ignoring the interest in his perusal as I pressed a button on the phone that connected me with the shop. Grant was a known flirt, and I’d long since grown unresponsive to his charms. Besides, I had enough man problems. “Russell, Grant is here to see you.”
It had taken me a while to get used to addressing my father by his first name at work, but now it barely phased me.
“Looking as gorgeous as ever, Gwen,” Grant said, taking my hand and shaking it. I arched a brow when he held on a moment longer than necessary and tugged it from his grip. He winked and leaned forward. “I heard a rumour you were single.”
“Ha,” I said dryly, my eyes narrowing. “What’s it to you?”
“I happen to be single, too,” he informed me, his eyes still on me.
“Good for you,” I said dryly, my smile growing a little colder. I heard the connecting door open, but I didn’t bother looking up. I knew it was probably my dad.
“Let me take you out sometime,” he offered, his teeth flashing as his smile deepened. “I know a great restaurant near the lake.”
Dad cleared his throat, saving me from having to reply. “Grant. I’ve got the blueprints in my office if you’ll follow me. Gwen, why don’t you take that lunch break?”
I already had my lunch break, but I didn’t bother to argue with him about it. I’d take a second one. Nodding, I grabbed my purse and smiled politely at Grant before moving around my desk.
I glanced over my shoulder as I opened the door. Grant’s head was turned, and he was still watching me with a smarmy grin that held none of the warmth of Alaric’s smiles.
When I returned to my desk twenty minutes later, Grant’s business card was on it, only he’d also added his personal number and urged me to call him.
I stared at it for a few moments before tossing it into the wastebasket beside my desk.
* * *
Despite the manywell-rounded excuses that I easily conjured in my mind, I managed to make it through the day without texting Alaric.
My self-restraint was pretty good—for someone so weak and susceptible to giving in. A slight breeze could have sent me spiraling in his direction, and I would have gone happily. Skipping, even. But thankfully, our paths didn’t cross. If I had to look directly into his blue eyes, I was afraid I’d be forced to face the truth.
That I most definitely was suffering fromthe feels. I’d thrown out Grant’s number without a second thought. I had no desire to hang onto his numberjust in case. I knew that nothing and nobody would compare to the welder that rolled so suddenly into my life like a summer storm.
Sighing, I kicked off my heels and let my purse fall to the ground with an audible thud. Strolling down the hall to my bedroom, I tugged down the zipper of my skirt.
Crossing the threshold into my room, I tossed my work clothes into the hamper and went to my dresser, pulling out a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. Casual enough that I’d be comfortable, but just dressy enough that if someone—like, say,Alaric—happened to stop by, I’d still look cute.
Usually, I changed within moments of arriving home—and not just because I preferred to be comfortable. Dahmer was known to wreak havoc on any material in sight with his claws, and his fur goteverywhere.
I’d lost many of nice clothes when he’d jumped on my lap for snuggles, as he’d always end up digging his claws into the material when he finally hopped off.
While I’d gotten Dahmer fixed as soon as he was old enough, I’d opted to skip out on declawing him. I was convinced it was inhumane. Instead, I just bought a scratching post and hoped for the best. So long as I made sure to keep my closet door closed, changed when I got home and gave him the attention he craved, we were good.
Dahmer meowed from the slipper chair in the corner of my room, where he preferred to spend his days. “To be a cat,” I muttered, shaking my head as I watched him stretch leisurely. He meowed again, his green eyes watching me in a way I didn’t quite trust. He was full of pent-up energy, and if he didn’t burn it off, he’d get mean. “Come on then,” I sighed, turning and leaving my room, snatching the tiny laser beam from the top of my dresser.
It was one of Dahmer’s favourite activities, and one of the easiest ways to work off some energy. I heard him jump down, his steps audible on the laminate flooring as he trailed after me.
I grabbed my phone from my purse before I sat down on the couch, just to have it nearby. Flicking the laser beam on, I pointed it on the floor in front of the furry terror. He lurched into action, chasing the little red beam of light wherever I directed it. I tried to keep my focus on him and not my phone, which sat silently beside me, with nary a message.
My stomach tightened with an emotion somewhere between dread and disappointment that I still hadn’t heard from him.
A door across the hall open and closed, followed by footsteps shuffling across the carpet and three impatient taps on my door. “Girlie, are you in there? Got some package from the Amazon for you. The man wouldn’t stop ringing the buzzer.”
Hearing Mrs. Hewitt’s voice, I stood and quickly crossed over to open the door.
She thrust the box at me, and I took it gratefully. “Thanks, Mrs. Hewitt. I’m really sorry about that.”
