Physically and emotionally.
I was supposed to be focusing on my future, but my brain kept skipping back to him. Yes, to him half-naked in the kitchen, but also to him sitting on the hard cabin floor telling me stories about Walt until I felt human again. He didn’t have to do that. I almost felt bad about barging in and rearranging his entire life.
Which was a feeling I couldn’t afford right now.
We couldn’t both have what we wanted, and I needed to prioritize myself for once.
A soft whine sounded outside the bedroom door. I lay still and listened.
“Tuck, let her sleep,” Grant murmured.
Another whine.
“I know you want to make her feel better, but not everyone wants a wet dog nose in their face.”
Whine.
“Of course I do. But not everyone does. You can sleep with me instead. How’s that?”
His footsteps moved past my door, followed by the familiar clicking of Tuck’s nails.
Tuck had to be what—ten? He was a Great Pyrenees and had slowed down with age, but he still embodied the term gentle giant. It was sweet, the way Grant took care of him after Uncle Walt died. I hadn’t even thought to ask about Tuck. Another pang of guilt hit me. How had I let my relationship with Uncle Walt be pushed to the back burner for so long? Work stress, marriage stress, the distance from the city to Iron Peak all seemed like such weak excuses now.
But I knew he wanted me here, so that’s where I would stay.
Chapter Six
Grant
Apeace agreement, shaken on, like adults. Acknowledgment that we were on opposite sides of something but didn’t want to fight all weekend.
Good.
Great.
Awesome.
Perfect.
This is exactly how this should be going. Being civil was the thing to do. Which doesn’t explain why I had held her so long when I’d gotten my hands on her hips. Why I had used my favorite spice on the steak even though I was almost out because I thought she would like it. Why I had listened to her talk about her life before she came here and really cared about her answers.
Hell, I had even revealed a few things about myself when normally I’d have said nothing.
After she had gone into Walt’s room and clicked the door shut behind her, I got ready for bed on autopilot. Sliding between the cool sheets didn’t give me the usual calming feeling tonight. I lay on my back staring at the ceiling before turning onto my side.
Tuck shifted beside me, letting out a low huff.
“Don’t start,” I muttered.
He thumped his tail once and settled again.
Peace or not, this was bad.
She fit.
As much as I hated to admit it, she fit here. Here in Iron Peak, here in this cabin, maybe even here with me. My stomach lurched at the idea. There was no way to win in this situation. Not if I kept going like this. If the cabin was hers, I was starting over. If it were mine, I’d have to go back to trying to be on my own. Losing Walt had been hard. Losing her would be too, but only if I got too close.
It was only one weekend. How hard could it be to keep my distance?
