Page 4 of Grant’s Flame

“You can stow the bossy shit, Mr. Twombley,” she finally said, turning to face me. Her hair continued to be the same frightful mess, and the corner of her eyes were bracketed in weariness. “Lead the way. I’m fine to walk on my own, though, thank you.” She looked at my offered arm sourly and then up to my face to find me examining her.

Shit. I hoped this trip was the right call. Cracks were forming in this beautiful creature’s soul right before my very eyes, and I had to find a way to fix them. Because that’s what I did. I was the guy who fixed things for people. But never—and I really meant ever—had the mission been more vital than with this woman. I couldn’t screw this one up.

“What?” she snapped.

“Nothing, Blaze.” When she got within arm’s length, I pulled her into my body, whether she wanted to reciprocate my embrace or not. Her arms hung limply at her sides while I circled mine around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. She didn’t push away, as I’d been anticipating. Instead, she sagged completely against me. And goddamn, did it feel amazing. Her nearness. Her trust.

Her heat…

No. Not there.

I was in Gentleman Grant mode. I had to keep remembering that. Even if it killed me. And it just might.

“I’ve missed you,” I confessed into her tangled hair. “All of you. Your sassy mouth, your bad attitude, and even your rude eye rolls. I’m glad we’re doing this.”

I pecked her forehead while she stared up at me, parting her mouth on a bit of bewilderment. At least that was what I hoped for. Confusion I could work with. So much better than punchy temper.

Yeah, this was going to be an interesting journey, all right. But first steps first. Rio needed food and sunshine. I was hoping a fat dose of both would put me fully back on the right side of this woman’s good graces. I wanted to help her heal, inside and out.

Because I cared so much about her, and I cared a hell of a lot about us, whatever that shaped up to look like now.

Chapter Two

Rio

Go away. Go away. Go away.

Didn’t seem to matter how many times I inwardly repeated the command. Those damn tingles dancing across my skin wouldn’t stop their passionate little cha-cha, no matter how fierce my demands were.

Freaking Grant Twombley. The man with his sexy grin and rumbly chuckle…and confident embrace…that I wished would never end. He had a way of stirring feelings that could be felt all the way down in my toes as he held me against his firm—and damn it, I meant firm—body.

Just from a damn hug!

But it wasn’t just a hug. It was everything he’d done for me. Everything he’d dropped in his life, without a thought, to be there for me. Everything he was still doing for me. Because, unlike almost everyone else in my life, he thought I was worth it. And I swore to God, for a fraction of a second, he had me believing it too. The feeling—true self-esteem, and not the act I had everyone believing on a day-to-day basis—made the tingles better and worse at the same time.

The swimming fog in my brain wasn’t helping matters currently, but that was definitely there before he pulled me close for this unrequited hug. I needed food. Yep. I was sticking to that story.

“Well, let me go so we can do this, then.” My words were muffled against his shirt that smelled of his intoxicating signature Bleu.

Finally, he backed away. I hurried past, easily ducking under his outstretched arm that held the cabin door so it wouldn’t slam shut behind me. I stood to the side and allowed Grant to take the lead, quietly falling into step behind him since I didn’t know the way.

The boat was extraordinary. Everywhere I looked, luxurious furnishings were trimmed with decadent touches. Fixtures were polished to perfection. Artwork hung on the walls and looked like original work—not mass-market prints. Even the carpet here in the hall and main living spaces was as plush as it was in our private cabin.

I had to admit, only to myself of course, that if a girl had to be suddenly whisked away, this was a mighty fine way to do it.

“I had them set up breakfast on the aft deck,” Grant declared. “I think a little fresh air will do you some good.”

But when he slowed and turned to make sure I was still in tow, I caught a hint of nervousness in his normally confident expression.

A very unusual countenance for the man I knew.

And cared for. Deeply.

“What’s up, big guy? Can’t swim? Maybe they have some water wings you can wear while we’re on deck,” I teased.

He squinted his eyes playfully but didn’t hold the expression longer than a few seconds before sobering. “Very funny, brat. I’m more worried about your reaction.”

I cocked my head. “Why?”