“I know how to put on a seatbelt, Grayson,” I say through gritted teeth.
His face is far too close to me as he grins. “Just being extra cautious.” He waggles his brows.
He’s leaning closer, and I put my hand on his face, shoving him back. “I don’t think so.”
“What?” His hand wraps around my wrist, and he lowers it, eyes laughing at me. “I wasn’t doing anything. You’re the one who likes to rip off people’s clothes in locker rooms, not me.”
I can feel my face burn and I hiss, “I told you it wasn’t on purpose.”
“Really?” Grayson drawls.
My brows snap together. “Really, and if you try anything funny, I’ll kick you in the family jewels. I’m a nurse. I know exactly where to hit for maximum damage.”
His eyes crinkle at the corner with what looks like delight, but he backs off. By the time he gets into the driver’s seat, I’m starting to wonder if this job is even worth it. I’ll have to spend a lot of time around Grayson, and the more I’m around him, the more my defenses fall.
“What are you thinking?” he asks as he drives, glancing at me.
“How to jump out of this car and not die on impact,” I mutter, turning my head to stare out the window.
He reaches out and engages the automatic locks, making my eyes widen at the clicking sound of the mechanism.
I turn my head to gape at him. “You did not just…”
He shrugs. “In case you get any ideas.”
He flashes his teeth at me in a boyish smile, and I hate the way my heart skips a beat. Till a few days ago, he was annoying. Attractive but mostly annoying. But that moment in the car when he took me home changed something. It bothers me. This whole thing bothers me.
He keeps doing this. Asking questions like he’s entitled to the answers. Like knowing what I’m thinking is something I owe him.
After Mom got sick, I stepped away from everything. The people I thought were in my corner weren’t. And now a part of me has shriveled up and died, the part that trusted people, thatwanted connections. I prefer being alone now. At least I won’t let myself down.
“Miranda?”
Ethan’s voice jerks me out of my thoughts. I look over my shoulder at him, and he blinks. “You smell sad.”
I stare at him. “I’m sorry, what?”
“He means you look sad,” Grayson corrects his son quickly, giving him a sharp look.
“I—” I look between Grayson and him, shaking my head. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” the child insists stubbornly. “Your scent—”
“Where do you want to eat pizza, Ethan?” Grayson interrupts loudly. I nearly jump, rubbing my ear and scowling at him.
“Can you not shout in my ear please?”
He gives me an unrepentant smile. “Was I shouting?”
I want to wipe that look off his face, as if he enjoys it when I get annoyed at him. “Forget it. Where do you want to go, Ethan? There’s a new place called the Cheese Hole. Do you want to try that? They have a play area.”
The excited smile on the boy’s face is all the answer I need. I lean forward to program the destination into the GPS navigator. It turns out to be a few blocks away from us. Since it’s around four in the afternoon, there’s no lunch rush, and we find a nice spot with a full view of the play area.
“Go.” I nudge Ethan, who’s quivering in excitement. He looks up at his father as if to get permission, and when Grayson nods, he’s off like a bullet.
We place the order, and I watch Ethan climb up the rope ladder that leads to the ball pit. “Why doesn’t he have friends his age?”
Grayson doesn’t answer, and I find myself looking his way. His expression is unexpectedly serious.
