He sighs and closes the door, letting the heater do its job. “I told you I had some things to sort out.”
Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms. “Yeah, I got that.”
If he says that one more time, I swear I will step on his foot with my heel.
Grayson walks over to the wooden bar and runs a hand across it. “This was one of those things.” He looks at me expectantly, and I gesture for him to continue. “The place is mine. I bought it when I left Driscoll.”
My mouth opens slightly at Grayson’s explanation, unclear as to why he would be buying… Is he moving here? Is he going to turn this into a restaurant and move to the city permanently, leaving Driscoll?
“Are you moving here?” I manage to ask past my dry throat.
Grayson looks at me as if I’m crazy. “No, of course not. Not permanently. I’ll be checking on the place at least once a week. Some weeks I might not come at all.” He runs a hand through his hair. “By the look on your face, I’m definitely not going about this the right way.”
My mind feels as though it’s about to explode with the numerous questions floating in there, and I have no idea where to start.
“I want to open a place that’s a café during the day and a restaurant at night.” He lifts a finger. “The catch being, it’ll also be a bar and bookstore.”
“A bookstore?” I blurt out. “You know nothing about books.” I raise an eyebrow and scoff.
“But you do.” The tilt of his lips sends my mind into overload. Grayson pushes himself off the bar and steps toward me, where I’m still rooted to the spot by the front door. He grabs one of my hands, and my mind is such a mess that I allow him to.
There’s a tingling sensation from our touch that spreads to various parts of my body. Grayson must feel it too. Our eyes lock, and we don’t look away, even when a cool piece of metal touches the palm of my hand.
Swallowing past the dryness in my throat, I eventually peer downward to find a light pink key.
“I got it for you,” he says in a low voice.
My head snaps up. I need to make sure I heard that right. “What?”
Grayson gently holds my chin with his fingers. “I want to make this place yours. I want it to feel like a safe haven with your favorite foods, activities, and drinks.”
A sound that’s a mix of a gasp, scoff, and laugh escapes me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Grayson opens his arms and shrugs. “It doesn’t have to be a restaurant or a bar, but I’m assuming you like the bookstore aspect of it. After all, it’s what you told me about that night in the truck. It’s really your choice.”
My arm holding my purse drops to my side at the sheer revelation of it all. He remembers what I told him in the truck? About the kind of place I would’ve loved to open?
This is too much. I’m not sure how to feel about all of this.Does this mean that the place is under my name?
“I own it, Emma. But I want you to decide what you’d like it to be, and I’ll handle the rest.” Grayson takes a few steps back, never taking his eyes off me. His frame leans against the bar again as he waits for my response.
My heart races even faster, making my temples throb.
This is more than I can handle.
What kind of movie are we in?
Shaking my head, I look for a chair of any kind. “I need to sit down.”
Grayson jogs over and starts taking off his suit jacket. “There aren’t any chairs, so the floor will have to do.”
He lays his jacket down in one spot near the wall. I let him sit me there and lean back, my bare shoulders meeting the cold wall as I close my eyes, slow my breathing, and take it all in.
Why did this take so long? And why was he in Connecticut when he bought this?
“Is this why you left for so long?” I ask, turning toward him. “Were you in the city this entire time?”
“No,” he quickly reassures me. “A friend’s agent showed me the place, and everything was handled remotely while I was in London.”
