Page 11 of Grant’s Heat

“Hmmm what? Christ. Am I going to feel this way with you every time her fucking name comes up now?”

“Like what?” He was still so quiet. Too quiet.

“Like I’m on trial.”

That was when he chuckled while keeping his eyes trained on me. “I haven’t said a single thing, man. Yet there you are”—he gestured his index finger up and down my torso—“squirming like a worm pierced on the end of a fisherman’s hook.”

A low growl worked up from deep in my throat, but I willed the eruption back down. He and Elijah had hauled out my worst side before, especially when they relentlessly razzed me about Rio. I couldn’t keep letting it happen.

“Let’s just stay on topic here, shall we? We won’t know if the guy is interested in the job if we don’t ask him. Let’s just make an offer and see if he bites.” It was my turn to take a shot at the dick-in-a-vise commentary. “Or do you have to ask Abbi for permission first?”

Sebastian sat back into the chair and grinned. “I already see what you’re playing at, Twombley.” Then he gave in to an actual laugh, which irked me more than his smirk, and shook his head slowly. “But one day you’ll understand, buddy. You’ll open yourself to the possibility of love. Then you’ll know that it’s not a matter of ‘asking permission’ or even being pussy-whipped. It’s about mutual respect and consideration for the person you’re sharing your life with. It’s about keeping the peace and harmony in the home you’re building together.”

Just when I thought my lecture was done, he added, “And you’re a fucking idiot.”

I prepped a scathing comeback, but as soon as I turned and pressed my back against one of the big glass panes, Bas’s words sank in as if he’d dipped arrows in acid and then took direct aim at my chest.

Was he right? Was I a serious dipshit here? I compelled myself to think about it. I compared the vapid, carnal sex from last night to the delightful, incredible lunch I’d shared with Rio just a couple of hours before. The two activities couldn’t have been more different, physically and emotionally. And the way I felt after each was on opposite ends of the satisfaction spectrum too.

Well…fuck.

I needed a change in my life. Desperately. Yet I continued to keep the company of a woman I had no future with—nor could even dream of having. But that only made me want it more. I’d thought fucking Cybil into the mattress would exorcise my Rio Gibson demons, but it had only made them worse. At least tenfold.

I was so lost in that brood, I didn’t notice Bas standing, circling around the furniture, and joining me next to the window. Together, we watched the citizens of our city bustle about their morning routines. Pedestrians dashed around cars both parked and moving. Metro buses lumbered along, stopping at different intersections. People clad in everything from maintenance uniforms to pristine business suits were rushing along to start their days.

Next to me, Bas was busy texting. After no more than thirty seconds, he declared, “Abbigail thinks I should give Sean a call.”

“So did she give you his number?” I asked.

The guy bugged his gaze. “Hold up. You don’t have the number to their house?”

Great. I already knew I’d be regretting this admission. “Well, yes, I do, but—”

“Then call it. Christ, what are you waiting for?”

I shrugged with exaggerated purpose. “Shouldn’t he be off to work already?”

“You would know better than me, stalker.”

“I’m not—” But I didn’t finish…because I couldn’t. If I were being honest with myself, Bas’s accusation wasn’t completely off base. Not that he cared about me keeping tabs on Rio because I was worried about her getting to the prep kitchen so early every day. “You know what?” I finally spat. “Fuck this shit. Seriously.”

“Twombley.” Sebastian threw his hands up. “Settle down, man. I’m just busting your balls. Just call Rio and get his cell number. Or text her. I don’t care. Let’s just get this ball rolling. I’d love to actually solve a problem before eight a.m. How good would that feel for a change?”

“Your fiancée would just as easily have her brother’s cell phone number,” I pointed out.

Sebastian started to say something, almost as though he was going to correct me on something, but he stopped short, seeming to think better of it. He got strangely quiet instead. “Just call her, would you?”

“Fine.” As I grumbled it, I quickly hit Rio’s nickname on my recent calls list. I held the phone to my ear, waiting for her voice to come over the line.

“Hey there, Tree.” Her voice filled the line, its husk a bite and caress in one. “It’s awfully early. What could you possibly want already?”

“Good morning to you too.” I chuckled. “Hey, I won’t keep you long. I know you’re probably knee-deep in lunch prep.”

“And you’d be correct,” she joked.

“Could you shoot me Sean’s cell number?”

“Sean? My husband?”