Page 19 of Grant’s Heat

No. Do not go there again.

Beneath the table, I gouged my fingernails into my thigh through the thin fabric of my leggings. I had to stop day drifting, especially when the subject was Grant Twombley’s beautiful lips, and the painful trick helped me regain my focus. In the past, this was a favorite trick to help me center my mind when the bad habit used to be so out of control, I’d end up miles from home and have no idea how I’d gotten there. Or worse, I’d find myself—

“Blaze.” Grant’s voice was low and commanding, completely interrupting my thoughts.

“What?” I shouted back. Totally unnecessary but sticking with the new angry-not-aroused tactic.

“Stay with me, girl.” He pushed his lunch plate to the side and leaned over until his face was just inches from mine. “Come on, Rio. Tell me what’s gotten into you.”

I refrained—barely—from rolling my eyes. “Damn it, I already told you—”

“And I already said I don’t believe you.” He turned his chair toward mine then too. “You’re more distracted than I’ve ever seen you. You’re worrying me.”

His long legs now bracketed mine. His frame consumed so much of my personal space, I found it difficult to breathe. But with his chair moved, he was no longer leaning across the table. No longer right up in my face.

“I…umm…well…I just have a lot going on.” I paused to tap my temple with my index finger. Oh God, this was a lot harder than I thought it would be. “In here. You know?”

“I’m getting that much.” He smiled easily, and even that small expression warmed me inside. “But this is more than the usual Abstract stuff, isn’t it?”

I squirmed. How did he do that? Laser straight into my truth like that? “I—I don’t know what to—”

“Just say it, Rio. Release it into the universe, doll. You’ll feel better. Lighter. Trust me on this one.”

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, bringing his handsome face that much closer to mine again. I struggled not to inhale but failed. That divine mix of scents—expensive cotton and the cologne he always wore—were a forbidden olfactory heaven. And now, its crisp mystery would be lodged in my senses for the rest of the afternoon.

“Rio.”

“Huh?” I blurted, responding as soon as he started snapping his fingers.

“Are you focusing? Even trying to?”

“Yes. Okay.” I motioned toward his disregarded food. “But eat while we talk. And don’t fucking snap your fingers at me like that. I’m not a dog.” I sucked in a deep breath, looking around the office. It wasn’t his fault that I was such a mess today. Okay, it partially was, but he didn’t know that, and I wasn’t about to explain it. “Please. I know how busy you are, and I don’t want you to miss your lunch because of me. Not to mention, Hannah and I worked hard on that meal.”

“All right. Deal,” he said, turning and digging back into the food. “This is really good. I was serious when I said I want you to give me some cooking lessons. I’m so tired of eating out.”

“You did great in the kitchen when you were there helping. Or babysitting, rather.”

“I can do what I’m told. But when I’m standing there by myself, it’s all very intimidating.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine you being intimidated by anything, Grant Twombley.”

“You’d be surprised. But don’t try to turn the tables here, lady. You’re supposed to be telling me what’s got you as scattered as a kitten on the freeway.”

As soon as I thought of Robert dodging maniac drivers on the 405, I glared. But damn it, the man had a point.

Ugh. Fine.

It was time to rip off the proverbial Band-Aid.

“I’m—well—I’m having a harder time adjusting to Sean being gone so much. More than I thought I would, I guess.”

Grant’s reaction was barely a reaction, the exact note of neutrality I really needed. “Gone?” he inquired. “How so?”

A soft subtlety in his tone left me the space to elaborate on more than the obvious, but I stuck to the clearer path. “Well, you probably know he’s working late every night. But lately, it’s been really late. Last night it was after eleven when he finally came to bed.”

Grant nodded, took a drink of his tea, and then asked, “Because of the new job?”

“Yeah, I guess. But last night, I definitely smelled beer when he got into bed. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t piss me off a little bit.” I held up my hand to interrupt myself. “And I’m not usually that wife, you know?”