“I surrendered the googly eyes for something a bit moreyou.”
I looked up at him beside me, and his eyes swung to mine.
His gaze shifted to my hair. “The color reminded me of you.”
I instinctively tucked my bangs behind my ears.
Grant smiled slightly at the gesture—almost like he’d expected it. His focus returned to the tray. “I tried to keep it simple but elegant. Like you.”
I gave a short laugh. “Simple, huh?”
He nodded, unfazed by my feigned offense. “You like order. Systems. Structure. And you’re amazing at those things. They suit you. But every now and then, I get a glimpse of a little streak of something else. Something unexpected. I’ve started to live for those moments with you.”
My pulse flipped and my vision wobbled, like a sudden power surge had tripped the breakers on all my vital systems. Grant had warned me he’d be coming at me strong on this date, and I thought I’d prepared myself for it.
I was so wrong.
The tumbleweed and the art workshop had lulled me into a false sense of security, and Grant knew that. Not just knew it; he’d planned for it.
I turned away. “So, what now?”
“Now, we leave them with Misha. They have to cure, so I’ll pick them up later.”
I nodded and carefully looped the apron over my head so that we wouldn’t have a repeat of earlier. Just the thought of Grant’s warm chest behind my back, his minty breath brushing my cheek was enough to send a flush of heat through me.
Grant rang the bell, and Misha emerged shortly, all smiles and kind words about our creations.
I hardly heard her. My mind was full of one repeating thought:I need to go home.
Grant opened the shop door for me, and I gave a polite thanks without meeting his eye.The eyes are the windows to the soul,they said. Maybe if I didn’t meet his gaze, I could keep my soul contained.
“Oh,” he said as I went to the passenger door of his rental car. “I figured we could walk to dinner. It’s just around the corner.”
I hesitated. Dinner with Grant. I wanted it so badly.
But it was out of the question. He was eroding my willpower like a steady river through a canyon.
“I’m kind of tired,” I said. “And not very hungry. I think I might just go home.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Grant’s gazefixed on me. “Are you okay?”
The concern in his eyes was genuine. Or maybe I was too whooped at this point to discern anything properly when it came to him.
I forced a smile. “Ship-shape. Just had a long week, you know?”
“It’s…Wednesday.”
“Exactly.”
He paused another second, looking at me like he had more questions. Of course he did. Grant wasn’t made up of trillions of cells but trillions of questions. “Okay. I can take you home.”
“Thanks.”
The ride home was quiet, and I stole a peek at him. His eyes were on the road, a slight furrow between his brows. Was the furrow because he was worried about me? Or because he was worried he hadn’t managed to achieve his goal of proving the algorithm wrong?
Maybe that was what was making me feel sick inside.Wasthe algorithm wrong? Or was I the problem? Maybe Grant and I were totally incompatible, but I was too dumb to know what was good for me.
