Page 4 of Worth the Fight

My mind is moving a million miles an hour. Living here seemed fine twenty-four hours ago when I had the house to myself, and he was on shift. But now he’s home, and I have to get used to the fact that he’s going to be everywhere. Him and his cheery demeanor. Or rather, him and his girlfriend.

“Is your girlfriend going to have a problem with this?” My mind flashes to Jett. And walking in on him and Tara. In my bed. Not that I’d do that to Mal. Not that Grady would want that with me . . .

“Who?”

He has to ask? “Glitter-dress girl.”

“Glitter dress? Oh, no. She isn’t my girlfriend.”

“Oh.”

“And she won’t be around again.”

Could’ve called that one a mile away.

“Ah, you’re so sentimental.” My voice drips with sarcasm.

“At least I’m honest.”

“Does she know that?”

He rolls his eyes like a little boy. “Yes, she knows that. Mallory and I used to have a thing. She moved away and was home visiting some family . . . so we, uh⁠—”

“Reconnected?”

“If that’s the term you want to use.” He chews on his smile.

Every part of me wants to find fault with him for being so cavalier, but I can’t. There’s something about the roguish look on his face and dead honesty with me, a woman he’s never met before, that makes him seem almost adorable . . . in a grown man kind of way.

“I’m hungry. You hungry? Let’s go get breakfast. Break bread . . . or in our case, break pancakes.”

I scrunch my nose and study him. The messy brown hair, eyes laden with humor that probably see more than they should, and that body. If I were to base my opinion solely on what his abs look like, well, hell . . . at least I’ll have something good to look at when I get writer’s block.

“Breakfast?”

“Yeah, that stuff you eat in the morning. Fuel for the day. The must-have meal. Breakfast.”

My stomach rumbles at the thought. “Sure. Yeah. You have some, uh”—I let go of where my hand is holding my robe together and point to a smear of red on the side of his face—“lipstick on your cheek.”

“That isn’t the only place I have it.” He flashes me a devilish grin before unapologetically walking out of the family room. “Be ready in ten to leave.”

And I stare after him. Of course I do. My eyes wander over his retreating back and I picture things I shouldn’t be thinking. What he’d look like naked with a strategically placed kiss of lipstick.

Then I groan.

I can’t think like this.

Besides, he said he likes to joke.

He’s probably joking.

Then why can’t I get the visual out of my head?

CHAPTER TWO

GRADY

“Aren’t you going to eat?” She’s been looking at those pancakes like she’s starving but hasn’t made a dent in them.