Page 8 of Grant’s Heat

But Rio Gibson wasn’t any other woman.

Nothing about her ever would be.

“Where did you park?” I forced myself to ask instead. “Do you have to go back to Inglewood now?”

“No. I’m just going to take the van home tonight and leave my car in the garage at the kitchen. I moved Kendall in there before I left, so she should be fine.”

“Kendall?” I asked, frowning while following her in what I assumed was the direction of the parked catering van. “Who’s Kendall?”

“My Fiat. Suits her, don’t you think?” Her uncertain grin was entirely out of place. I’d never seen a spec of hesitancy on this woman’s face since I’d known her.

“If you say so.” I shrugged. I’d never really understood the attachment people grew to vehicles. I didn’t even own one or care to, for that matter. I got back at least an hour of time every day by not driving myself. But hey, who was I to judge the folks who did? I was the guy who got day-long highs—sometimes longer—from purchasing real estate.

“Are you headed back to the office?” she asked. “I can drop you off on my way.”

“I think I’m going to take the rest of the afternoon off.”

As I said it, I seriously wondered what body snatchers had landed and taken over when I wasn’t paying attention. I never casually took the afternoon off. But today, the call seemed right. Well, more so than the next thing that popped out of my mouth.

“Do you mind if I ride with you to Seal Beach?”

For a long second, her only response was a brow raised in curiosity.

“I have a house there,” I explained. “I think I’ll stay near the water tonight.”

“Seriously?” she charged, screwing up her face. “Why would you own property in Seal Beach? I thought you lived somewhere near here.”

“That might be true soon, but not currently. But back to the point. Why do you find it so hard to believe? You like Seal Beach enough to own a home there.”

“Yes, but I’m married and hoping to start a family. It’s much more of a family-oriented community. Not a bachelor’s paradise.”

“My place is on the Naples side of town, closer to Long Beach. The neighborhood happens to be very lively on the weekends. There are a lot of great shops and restaurants within walking distance.”

“But we’re still a few days away from the weekend.”

I lifted a new smirk. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll find something to entertain me.”

She stopped after chirping the key fob to unlock the van. “Why am I thinking it’s wise not to ask for details about that?”

I stepped over to open the driver’s door for her. “Because you’re smart, remember?”

As Rio moved in next to me, she showed no mercy with the uptilt of her incisive gaze. “Oh, I remember…like an old owl.”

After another hour and a half in shitty freeway traffic, Rio dropped me off in front of my waterfront home. She let out a low whistle and a comment or two about not being worthy of my company before I closed the door and headed up the front steps. I really did like this place, and something about being near the water—and fine, within ten miles of her—made my nerves settle after the frustrating meeting earlier in the day.

A cleaning crew made the rounds to all my properties, ensuring no matter where I decided to lay my head each night, the place would be turnkey. I also made sure a list of staples were kept on hand in the pantry so I could at least have coffee in the morning before I left for work.

Loosening my tie, I opened the glass doors that led onto the deck and let the salt air fill the entire home. Yeah, this was the right call tonight. Maybe I’d work off a little steam with a friend—the way my cock had been fantasizing about for the last two hours.

I pulled up my favorites list on my phone and scrolled through the names, trying to decide who the lucky lady would be. There was a lot of pent-up energy bubbling through my system, and someone would be in for a long, rough, but thoroughly satisfying night.

Chapter Two

Grant

Three hours of sleep just wasn’t enough. Not by far. I didn’t bother to share that enlightenment with Sebastian, who was the only one on earth with enough balls to call me at four in the morning. And then, when I didn’t pick up, to do it again. And again.

But as I slid my arm out from under the warm, sleeping woman beside me and flipped over to see what had my device skipping across my nightstand, I couldn’t help but swear at the bastard beneath my breath. My eyes took a moment or two to focus on the screen, separating the text from the background, forming individual shapes that made sense as letters then words. Goddamn Sebastian and his nonstop mind—and his assumption that since he’d been struck by lightning at this hour, everyone else was part of the storm too.