Page 5 of Grant’s Flame

“Because I care about you. I want you to be comfortable, Rio.”

I stepped over and wrapped a hand around his forearm. He was nothing but corded muscle there, but it wasn’t enough to cover his continuing concern. For me. For what I thought.

All of that should have freaked me out all over again…but it didn’t. I knew how the man felt about me. And just because I hadn’t made peace with my feelings for him yet didn’t mean they weren’t there.

But right now, as we stepped through a tinted sliding glass door and out onto the deck, I vowed to be okay with everything about this moment. Because maybe he was right. Maybe this was exactly what I needed.

Warm, salty air filled my lungs, immediately lightening my mood even more. It was a Pavlovian reaction to living in seaside towns the majority of my life. The briny scent of ocean air and the sounds of the water lapping against the transom immediately filled me with a sense of peace and familiarity.

A steward came over to speak quietly to Grant, who in turn looked back to me. “Blaze? Sun or shade?” He motioned to where the table was set up, currently in the full rays of the morning sun.

“That’s fine,” I returned with a small smile. “Just leave it where it is.”

“I don’t want you to get burned. You’re so pasty.”

“I’m not pasty,” I protested. “Rude.”

“Mmm, okay.” He let the lazy grin spread across his lips before turning back to the crewman and asked, “Can you bring up some sun block for Ms. Gibson, please? Thank you.”

When he turned back to find me glaring in his direction, hands planted firmly on hips, he laughed.

“What? You seriously don’t want a sunburn on our first day, do you? It will ruin days of adventure.”

“Days, huh?”

Days, he mouthed, no real sound coming out.

I just shook my head at his nonsense, but I could feel my smile betraying me, and damn it, it actually felt good.

“Come”—he patted the chair—“sit and eat.” My charming companion took up a dutiful stance behind the thing, waiting for me to be seated so he could push me in closer to the table. Once I was settled, he took the chair to my right. I watched, quietly amused and charmed, while he moved the place setting from across the table to the position where he sat instead.

“Why do you always do that?” I wondered aloud.

“Hmmm? Do what?”

“Why do you always sit beside me instead of across from me?”

He was about to pull down his sunglasses from their nest in his thick blond waves but paused to observe me with the full capability of his knowing blues. “I like to be close to you, Rio. But if it bothers you, I can move back.”

“No.” I caught him again by the forearm, preventing him from gesturing to the original seat. “Please no.” But touching him was going to become a bad habit if I didn’t curb my heated urges, so I whipped back my hand like I’d touched a hot plate. “Just…leave it be for now. After that whole production you just went through, it’ll be lunch before we get food in our stomachs.”

For a long second, he didn’t move. Holy Christ, his gaze nearly matched the gleaming waves for intensity. “Rio?”

“What?” I snapped.

“You seem agitated, baby.”

“I’m not agitated.”

“Do you want to sit inside instead? Maybe the sun is too much with whatever medication they—”

“No! And I’m not agitated!” As soon as I shouted it, I huffed and hauled in an exaggerated breath.

Okay, so that wasn’t very convincing. But I gave myself a silent back pat for the effort plus a giant dose of self-forgiveness. I was one big exposed nerve right now, justifiably so.

I dropped my face into my hands and rested back into the soft chair cushion. Oh shit, the thing was comfortable. Its high padded back and big cushy arms seemed to swallow me up like a small child. So far, this was my favorite part of Grant’s little adventure. This would make a great cuddling and reading spot for Robert and me.

Oh no.