Page 13 of Grant’s Flame

With a dismissive gesture toward my phone, I stammered while trying to decide how much to share regarding the call. “Nothing you have to worry about. I bet that shower felt good. How was the water pressure?”

But I should’ve known better. There was no way she would just let the subject rest if she thought it deserved more attention. Rio would give Bas a warrior’s level of competition if tenacity was their chosen battle weapon.

When we spent those first few days in the Abstract prep kitchen and got under each other’s feet as much as we got on one another’s nerves, I would tease her and liken her to a stubborn old mule. Remembering those days made my blood heat to the point I tugged on my T-shirt a few times.

“Really, Grant?” She followed the accusation with the curious puppy head tilt I normally loved so much. Except this time the gesture wasn’t so cute. “You’re asking me about water pressure when you’re so tense you look like you could crack walnuts in your fists. You have them balled up like you’re ready to punch something.”

More like someone.

With determination in her chocolate eyes, she held my focus while closing the distance between us. About a foot of space separated us when I could smell the familiar scent of her shampoo from her damp hair. I greedily inhaled breath after breath through my nose to take in that smell, as if I could store it in my mind for times when she wasn’t nearby.

“Your eyes are so blue right now,” she commented and leaned back to take in my entire expression. “They get like that when you’re dealing with a lot of emotion.” She said the words as a statement of fact rather than a question. She knew me better than most other people in my life. But that was just another thing I’d discovered about this woman. She took the time to notice details. Not just about other people but about the world around her. I admired the trait immensely.

Surprising us both, she put her hand on my chest, right over my heart. “What’s going on inside here?”

Christ. If you only knew.

But my annoyance with Sebastian and his ladylove had nothing to do with the matters in my heart—so I attempted a careless shrug. Rio let her hand drop away, and I instantly missed the contact. I wanted to feel that same hand slide down my abdomen and then tend to the burning need in my dick. And more…so much more than that. I was starving for her. My desire pulsed like a strobe light, bright and painful one moment, disarmingly shadowed the next.

But instead, with a heavy sigh, I offered my best explanation. “Some people go through life completely clueless that the world doesn’t revolve around them. They can’t see past their own shit long enough to realize not everything has to be what’s in their best interest. It’s frustrating.”

“Thank you, Grant,” she said quietly, and it was my turn to employ the confused head tilt. Rio pointed to the phone on the bed. “I heard some of that conversation. Not much, but enough to surmise who you were talking to and what it was about. More accurately, who it was about.”

“I understand that Abbigail is worried about you. I believe she truly is. But I’m not convinced her intentions are completely altruistic. She’s morphing into him with the control bullshit.” We both knew who I meant without using his name.

Rio put her hand up to interrupt me. “No, Grant, she’s always had control issues. She suffered a terrible loss when her mother died. After that, it was a natural instinct to try to control things to avoid that kind of pain again.”

It was hard to understand the depth of this woman’s compassion and generosity sometimes. I listened, shaking my head while she basically gave Abbigail a legitimate pass for having her hauled away to that facility. Where did she find this kind of grace?

“What?” She immediately took a defensive attitude. Even her body language reflected it. She popped out one hip and crossed her arms over her chest, adding a sweeping finger up and down the length of my body. “What is this look? Why are you shaking your head?”

“You’re an incredible woman, you know that?” Well, that pulled her up short, but she quickly recovered.

In predictable Rio Gibson style, she responded with a sassy comeback.

“Incredibly crazy, apparently. Incredibly unstable and burdensome for the people who get too clo—”

“No,” I interrupted. “Stop saying those things. Hear my words, Rio. I was giving you a compliment. Why is that so hard for you to receive?”

“Because that’s not how I feel. I don’t feel incredible at anything, especially right now. I’m not dumb—or blind. I’ve noticed the tension between you and your best friend.” She looked away, straightening the bedspread to busy her idle hands. “And I hate being the cause of it.”

“You’re not the cause of it,” I protested. “Okay, some of it,” I said with a fleeting grin. “But this isn’t a new thing. Bas and I don’t always see eye to eye. I’m one of the few people in his life who calls him out on his shit.”

Rio made a funny face. I detected commiseration laced with conjecture. “My God,” she muttered at last. “Can you imagine what an egomaniac that man would be if there was no one to keep him in check?” As if a migraine were brewing behind her brows, she massaged the tension in her forehead. “Let me rephrase that. What kind of an egomaniac—bigger than the one he is now?”

After we both laughed, I said, “Listen, I have an idea.”

Rio arched her brow to signal she was waiting, so I went on. “Let’s agree to not worry about the Sharks while we are on this boat. Deal? We’ll have enough of their drama to deal with when we get back. I’m sure of it.”

Rio accepted the hand I proffered, her bow mouth also lifting. “That’s a deal,” she said, before adding, “And hopefully Abbigail will deliver that child soon, and she’ll be obsessing over a new infant instead of me.”

Possibly she was reassuring herself more than me at that point, but I couldn’t blame her. Abbigail had definitely been in hovering mama hen mode with her lately.

After a longer, semi-awkward moment, she ducked her hands into the robe’s pockets and scuffled a little from foot to foot. “In all seriousness though…I want to thank you for defending me.” She dropped her gaze but not for long. As if reminding herself of the importance of what she had to say, she jolted her gaze back up to mine. “And not just right now, on the phone with both halves of the dynamic duo.”

I knitted my brows together. “I’m not following.” And I meant it.

“Come on, Grant. There have been other times than this. Times that I don’t know about. I know what people must be saying about me behind my back—and I’m guessing you’ve come to my defense then, too.”