Page 47 of Grant’s Flame

The remarkable gift…possible because of my towering, golden-haired benefactor, now striding back into view on the deck. He was still on the phone, head bent low and shoulders bunched with more than a touch of tension. I didn’t have any trouble hearing his dialogue now.

“Look, Bas. You know you’re my best friend. My brother. I couldn’t be happier for you right now, and a large part of me wishes I had been there for your son’s arrival.” Grant finished it by pinching the bridge of his nose, which I could only assume was in frustration. He looked up to find me cautiously watching, though I desperately tried to eke out an encouraging smile instead. Without acknowledging me, he turned and shuffled a couple feet away to the railing.

And why did that sting so much?

“No, I’m not telling you where we are, and I won’t sell her out, either. I’m not admitting to something that just isn’t true. No matter what damn day of the year it is.” Grant shook his head, funneling that vehemence into his next words at the asshole who couldn’t see him. “God, you’re a fucking piece of work, you know that?” He took a calming breath and said, “Go be with your new family, Sebastian. I’ll call you in a couple of days. Please give Abbigail my best. I’ll have Rio call once Abbi and the baby have had a chance to rest.”

With that, my handsome white knight ended the call. After pivoting to set his phone down on the deck chair where we had first set our towels, he paused again, his head hung low, chin tucked tightly to his chest. He was in the same spot for so long, I thought he might be having second thoughts about rejoining me, but he finally turned and walked back over.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He got it out on another heavy breath.

“You okay?” I said gently. “We can just go back to the cabin, if you’d rather? I’ll scratch your head?” Clearly, the time he’d endured on the phone had ramped his stress to a level I hadn’t seen in days. No, forget stressed. He sounded exhausted.

“Nah, Blaze. Let’s stay out here.”

I nodded, hoping the fresh air, night sky, and easy companionship would be of some help. My heart panged as I held his hand tight while we got back into the water together. Just two hours ago, he’d been virile and exuberant, the gorgeously perfect picture of living and loving life. I had finally been feeling like returning to Los Angeles would be manageable instead of insurmountable. As with all things alongside this incredible man, it seemed like getting through daily life would be possible again. He seemed to be excited about it too—until Sebastian’s call shattered our happy reverie.

“So, as you can probably guess, Kaisan arrived earlier today.” Grant’s announcement was quiet, accompanied by a genuine smile, after he settled into the water and allowed a bank of jets to pummel his back. “Congratulations, by the way, Auntie.”

I was equally sincere about my soft laugh as he pulled my buoyant body closer until I straddled his lap in the corner of the spa. I released a blissful sigh, forgetting all about his standoffish move from a few minutes ago. It wasn’t hard, once I was surrounded in the muscled magic of his embrace, the perfect strength of his nearness. I reveled in the view of his serene expression, betraying he’d fallen prey to the same effect from me. Yeah, this was addicting…and yeah, I was damn sure I didn’t care. Not right now. We had come to need each other’s physical touch more and more with each passing day—though I was fairly certain my dependency outweighed his. His presence was like a balm for my aching heart and soul, especially during my darkest and most dismal hours. I wasn’t going to give it up until he told me I had to.

A bank of jets pummeled Grant’s back from every angle where we were situated in the deepest water.

“Christ, this feels good,” he preached to the nighttime sky with an extended groan. I simply stared, fantasizing about nibbling his Adam’s apple, where it protruded from his extended throat.

“What’s going to happen when we get back? That phone call didn’t sound like running away made any of my problems disappear.” When Grant brought his face level with mine, I berated myself for continuing on this topic. Knowing the deep furrows of stress that etched his beautiful face were because of me shattered my heart.

“I am so sorry,” I murmured.

“Why are you apologizing?” he finally asked. Even his voice sounded weary and resigned.

“Don’t you think I see what’s going on here? The stress in your life, between you and your best friend? I know it’s because of me.” I pulled out of his arms and moved off his lap to sit beside him. The intimate position was suddenly too close. Too stifling. “I’m crazy, Grant, not dumb.”

His first response was much more of a growl. When the air stilled again and I found the courage to look back to Grant, he was waiting with words. “Rio. It’s not because of you. It’s because of Bas.” Grant slashed his palm through the froth on the surface before he continued. “It’s because of his tyrannical, controlling method of going about everything in his life. You happen to be caught in the middle of the storm this time, but it could have easily been someone else.”

His own growl was his interruption, as he gave in to staring out into the night. For a long moment he peered even harder, as if spotting something way off on the horizon. Finally, he shook his head slowly and went on, “What he’s doing with all this is wrong, and the bastard knows it. Bas is trying to avert everyone’s attention from the faulty equipment that killed your husband, even if that means dragging you through the mud by spotlighting your breakdown the night of the accident. But the asshole doesn’t care what that will do to me if he does that. He certainly doesn’t care what it will do to you.”

“How can he think something like this would touch him? It’s old news at this point, and it’s such an insignificant event in his day. Not to mention, how can my crazy behavior be more interesting than the big bad Sebastian Shark’s fancy building being cursed?” With a dismissive wave, I finished, “Or whatever. That seems like a juicier headline to me.” But then I was the one doing the head shaking. “I really don’t get why he would risk your friendship over this.”

“Because it is still a juicy story,” he stressed.

I grabbed a chance for my turn with the deep frown too. “I seriously don’t follow.”

“Come on. Picture the sound bite. ‘Grieving widow’s dramatic act of retribution.’” He fanned his hands through the air between us while he predicted the story’s headline. While I understood the effect he was going for, the whole thing looked too damn funny not to crack another smile. Grant huffed. “This really isn’t funny, Rio.”

“Agreed. But honestly? Your jazz hands could use some work.”

He flashed a smirk—likely the sexiest version I’d ever seen of it. “Well, I think that’s the only skill you’ve said my hands needed improvement with.”

“Hmmm.” I hummed in mock contemplation, appreciating his well-timed change of the subject. We’d definitely both reached our Shark quota for the day. “I don’t know about that, Tree. I may have to collect more data before I can be sure.” Playfully tapping my index finger to my chin, I added, “I don’t know that I’ve evaluated your full skill set yet. I mean, you’re making a mighty huge claim here, and—”

And there I went, having to toss around a descriptor like huge. Suddenly, the man was exactly that, rising from the corner seat in a move that reminded me of Godzilla’s eruption from the sea. His stare was comparable, a menacing combination of so many gorgeous greens and blues. Beyond my control, mini tsunamis chased each other throughout my bloodstream.

“My skill set, hmmm?” he murmured. “Oh, I promise you haven’t even scratched the surface, little girl.”

I gulped. He barely noticed, closing the space between us with strides that made the water slosh. “You know, you can be very intimidating when you want to be. Has anyone ever told you that? Okay, wait.” I held my hand out. “Don’t answer that. There are only so many Lacis and Stacis I can stomach hearing about.”