“I am sorry about Rory,” she says. “It was a shitty move and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“Good, because you’re not getting it.”
She lifts her gaze and her eyes dance with mischief. “As glacial as ever,” she observes, tapping my tensed pecs. “That’s the Duke we need if we’re going to survive the next few weeks.”
Chapter 17
Grace
Ed sticks out his tongue as he concentrates on tugging yellow yarn through the loop he’s made with his crochet hook. He’s attempting to make a mitten, but the baby in question will be going to college at this rate.
“You’re holding the yarn too tight,” I tell him, reaching over to loosen the tension around his finger only to discover it’s not Ed’s grip causing the problem.
“Don’t tellme. Tellher,” Ed says, gesturing to beneath his outstretched legs. In the gap between his couch and a footstool, Marmalade is tangled in a knotted mess of baby-soft wool.
“Bad cat,” I scold with zero effect as the cat swats the yarn connected to Ed’s finger with her paw.
“We should have gone to your place.”
I slump back against the couch. “It’s not my place,” I mutter, returning my attention to the fiery orange griffin wing taking shape on my hook. “The apartment is nothing more than Duke’s holding pen to keep me contained while he plays around with a Russian goddess.”
Ed surrenders his questionable work-in-progress to the cat and twists to face me. “The only playing he’s doing isplay-acting, Grace. I know that man. I also know that planning your arrival was his one and only priority until the Devil’s spawn got her claws into him.”
I study the printed crochet pattern in my lap, one I’d created by combining existing patterns of a lion and an eagle. It’s complicated, but the feathers are mostly repetitive and I feign concentration.
“Got her claws into his pants,” I say with a pout.
Ed taps the toes of his boots together. “There’ll be another explanation for the phallus. Just ask him.”
The crochet hook trembles in my hand. “Please stop trying to defend him,” I whisper. “There’s only so many times I can put my faith in someone only to watch their promises go up in flames.”
It had happened with my mom when she ran off with the married guy she was having an affair with. It happened when I waited for my dad to reappear in my life to take care of me. It happened when I forgave Cameron his lapses and trusted him not to cheat on me again.
My throat constricts. “They always choose someone else, Ed.”
“Duke won’t.”
“Duke did,” I point out. “When he stuck his tongue down Katarina’s throat. It’s time to accept that we were never meant to be more than a one-night stand. If it had stayed like that, I’d still have my unspoiled fantasy to dip into now and again.”
Ed rocks the heels of his boots from side to side. “If the fantasy is that good, you shouldn’t give up so easily.”
“You think the last two weeks have been easy?” I scoff. I set down my work with a sigh. I don’t meanto be angry with Ed, but he’s Team Duke all the way and I need a Team Grace right now. “Every time we put a little more faith in fate, it fucks us over. It’s time to call it quits.”
“He won’t make it easy for you if last night’s anything to go by,” Ed warns.
I’d been looking forward to spending my Saturday night taking full advantage of Calder’s VIP pass for his exclusive nightclub, but a certain someone had revoked my VIP status and we were turned away. To add insult to injury, when Ed and I had climbed into an Uber planning to take our party elsewhere, we’d discovered it was a Moncrief car and the driver was under strict instructions to take us back to Ed’s place.
There’d been a crate of champagne and trays of food waiting, and I couldn’t have dragged my friend back into the city if I’d tried. I was already planning on crashing at Ed’s anyway, and getting drunk on champagne with Duke’s number one fan was marginally better than going home to stew in my bitterness.
“I just need to try harder until he gets the message that I’m done,” I say, grinding my teeth to the sound of Ed’s toe tapping. “You’re going to wear those boots out if you keep doing that. Do you really need to wear them at home?”
“Where else would I wear them?” he asks in shock. “These babies are too precious for the sidewalk.”
“Precious because of the price tag, or because your beloved boss bought them for you?”
He scowls at the stupidity of my question. “The latter, obviously.”
Despite my best efforts to hate Duke, warmth floods my chest. The brute who broke my heart can be so damn sweet at times. He’d told Ed to buy the boots with his black Amex and when Ed didn’t, Duke had bought them for him. He’s agood man. I know that. Unfortunately, so does Katarina and her hold appears to be stronger than mine.
