“Really?” Her shoulders relaxed. “Good. Because I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do. I still don’t think it’s necessary, but I promise I’m not trying to make your job any harder than it needs to be. And as for the other...” She licked her lips nervously. “If something happens between us after this bodyguard gig, great. If not, that’s okay, too.”
Swallowing back the urge to reach out and pull her to him, Grant offered a low, “Okay.”
He should probably tell her nothing could ever happen between them. Brynnon wasn’t like the picket fence women he’d met in the past. She also wasn’t the kind to have a one-night-stand and just walk away the next morning, either.
She was different than any other woman he’d ever known. Brynnon was a cabin-in-the-woods kind of gal full of intelligence, confidence, and passion. And though he’d chosen years ago to never allow a woman into his heart, she was getting closer and closer with each moment Grant spent with her.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Brynnon smiled back at him with a sweet, “Okay.”
****
Chapter 8
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“Look how happy theyare.”
Brynnon turned to Angie—her best friend and self-proclaimed partner in crime—and smiled widely. Family drama momentarily forgotten, her heart felt full from the little bit of happiness they’d brought with them today.
“It’s my favorite day of the year.”
The attractive, brunette woman smiled back. “I’m so glad you asked me to help.”
“I’m so glad you agreed to,” Brynnon teased, nudging her shoulder.
Both women laughed as they continued watching the room full of children open their presents with glee. They’d all been admitted to the cancer wing—some new patients, others all-too-familiar.
“Thanks again for storing and hauling all of the presents. Between my tiny garage and the cabin being so far away, it was so much easier keeping them all at your place.”
“My pleasure.” Angie looked back over the smiling children. On a low whisper, she said, “It’s so sad knowing some of these kiddos will have to spend Christmas here.”
“I know,” Brynnon agreed. “That’s why we do this. For those who won’t get to go home by Christmas. Or ever.”
Angie swiped at the corner of her eye and shook the negative thoughts away. “All right, enough of the sad crap. Tell me about Mr. Muscles over there.”
Brynnon glanced over to the far wall where Grant was standing. With his arms crossed in front of him, he had his back against the wall, and the scowl she’d thought was starting to vanish more prevalent than ever. And he was staring at her.
