Page 65 of Grant’s Heat

“Well, I haven’t. I said I wouldn’t do that to you, and I didn’t. In fact, I just stood in front of the only man I’ve been able to count on for my entire life. A man I’ve considered my brother.” Grant winced with a pained look. “The only person who has had my back, every fucking time I’ve needed him—and I lied to him. Lied right to his face, Rio. And I did it to protect you.”

He watched my eyes with intense scrutiny, seeming to gauge my reaction to his assertion.

“That was your choice, Grant. All of it. You didn’t have to come there that night. You didn’t have to get involved or get Elijah involved.” I stood up and paced in front of the bench but fought the urge to run off like I wanted to. Instead, I whirled around and faced him, squared my shoulders, and let him feel every ounce of my fury. “And you certainly didn’t have to lie to him. Don’t try to guilt me about it now.”

But Grant didn’t rise to my bait. Instead, his shoulders fell in resignation. When he looked up to meet my glare, his eyes were filled with so much sadness, it nearly knocked the breath from my lungs. “Is that really what you think I’m trying to do? Do you really not know me at all? After all the time we’ve spent together? You think I’m trying to guilt you?”

“Don’t you get it?” I hissed. “You’re the one who doesn’t know me! I’m fucking crazy, Grant! And every day, I lose my shaky grip on reality a little more. Don’t align yourself with me. I’m the loser’s bet.” I shook my head while I stared at him with pity.

Grant surged to his feet and gripped my upper arms so tightly, I’d probably have bruises. He gave little shakes to my shoulders to punctuate his words while he said, “You’re wrong. So wrong. And I refuse to give up on you, so don’t you do it either. But you need to take this seriously, Rio. Elijah scrubbed all the video footage from that night, but whatever forensics picked up from the soil on-site is showing evidence of fire, and Bas is on it like a bloodhound right now. You need to lie low and not indulge in your ‘hobby’ right now. Okay? Are you listening to me?”

He shook my upper body again, and I knocked his arms away. “Don’t fucking touch me!” I yelled. My voice echoed off the condos that backed up to the walking trail.

“Keep your voice down before we have the police back here,” he gritted through clenched teeth.

“Then keep your hands to yourself. I heard you the first time you said it. You’re not my daddy, Grant. Or my Dom, or, well, shit. You’re not my anything, are you?”

“I’m your friend. I care about you—so much.” He looked up to the stars for a few moments before sucking in a deep breath and bringing his face level with mine again. “But I know that man better than anyone does, Rio. He will destroy us all—you, me, and Elijah—if he ever finds out we’ve lied to him. Please tell me you understand the gravity of this situation.”

I spent the night on Grant’s sofa. I refused to complicate things by getting into bed beside the man. I knew myself well enough to realize there was no way we wouldn’t end up comforting one another in all the best but wrong ways. He wanted me to take the guest room, but he would just end up in that bed with me before sunrise, too. So I agreed to the couch or to drive all the way down to Orange County to my own place.

As I drove into the Abstract Catering kitchen, I tossed around the idea of putting the Seal Beach bungalow up for sale. Grant’s realtor would probably be happy to sell the place for me. Sure, it needed some improvements, but the home was charming. Properties in that zip code held their value no matter what the real estate market did elsewhere.

Before I knew it, I was parking Kendall in her usual spot and digging for my keys at the bottom of my purse. I still loved this place in the early morning hours. The quiet of the kitchen, the therapeutic lull of chopping and prepping ingredients, the first smells that filled the kitchen—all things that took me back to uncomplicated days when it was just Abbi and me here.

And we were happy.

We worked our asses off every day, but we were so happy. We would chat and giggle, sing and dance around the kitchen while we cooked and acted like teenagers playing chef in our moms’ kitchens. The nostalgia strangled me to the point of a near anxiety attack, so I shut the memories down, threw open my car door, and power walked across the parking lot to go inside.

I didn’t need my key because Hannah was already inside, busy in the walk-in cooler loading a prep pan with ingredients for the lunch menu special.

“Good morning, beautiful!” I called out to her so I wouldn’t startle her when she came out.

“Hey, Rio! Morning!” She came around the corner smiling brightly, but her face crumbled when she saw me.

“That bad, huh?” I fussed with my hair a bit, but I knew it was hopeless. “I have a ball cap in the car. Maybe I’ll go with that today.” I gave a quick nod, solidifying the plan.

Hannah slid the pan from her hip to the worktop and looked at me with cautious eyes. “Do you want someone to talk to? I know Abbi can be pretty abrasive.” She followed her comment with a gentle smile. “I mean, no offense. I know she’s your sister-in-law, but it seems like things have been tense between you guys.”

“None taken. Walk with me?” I motioned to the door and then held up my car keys. If I was going with the ball cap look, I needed to run out to my car.

“Sure thing.” Hannah dried her hands on her chef’s jacket, and we strolled out to Kendall.

“I just didn’t get much sleep. And not because I was knockin’ boots all night. I just…well…I’m having a hard time being the only owl in the nest. You know?”

“I can’t even imagine,” the pretty girl said while nodding. “Obviously I’ve only been single so far. But can I ask how long you and Sean were married?”

“Just shy of seven years,” I said quietly. “We were young when we started dating, so we sort of grew up together.” I popped my trunk open, grabbed the worn cap from among the pile of crap I kept in there, and then slammed the compartment shut again.

With the visor facing backward, I fingered my bangs back under the hat and wiggled it until it felt just right. I turned to Hannah for her opinion.

“Much better.” She smiled cheerfully. “No one will notice you didn’t sleep well now.”

“Please.” I laughed, but the noise sounded as bitter as it felt. “Abbigail watches me like a hawk all day. It’s like she’s keeping a journal about my behavior or something.”

“But why? Why doesn’t she just try to show some compassion instead?”

“This is her version of caring. That’s why I’m trying to be patient with her. And it’s ramped up about seventy-two percent with the baby Shark on board. I can’t wait until that little sucker swims downstream so we can all have a little peace around here again.”