Ask him the important question.“Do you have a girlfriend?”
He made a sound of disgust, like the idea of dating was the worst thing imaginable.
What I honestly wanted to ask next was who’d hurt him. Why was he so closed off? He obviously carried tremendous pain related to his mother, but was there someone else? Either way, this wasn’t the time or place. I returned to the grinder and finished the beans. Dumped them into the French press. Poured hot water from the kettle and cleaned the grinder.
The coffee was dark and rich when I poured it. I took a sip, letting the silence stretch. Garrett was still sitting at the table, still not looking at me, still so tense he looked like he might break if he moved wrong.
Galahad was the pure knight in King Arthur’s court. I knew that much. He was the one who’d obtained the grail because of his purity. WasthisGalahad the same? Had something happened to him that made him insist emotions were off-limits? He rarely smiled. I’d only seen him laugh twice.
But god, how he’d kissed me despite everything. How his short beard had brushed across my cheeks, softer than I’d imagined it would be. How he’d held me like he wanted me as much as I’d wanted him.
The morning light came through the window at an angle. Outside, birds sang. Jean’s garden was a riot of late-summer color—purples, yellows, reds, pinks, and whites.
It wasn’t just brain chemistry.
I leaned against the counter and waited. For what, I didn’t know. For him to crack? For him to admit that last night meant something? For him to get up and leave so I could think without him sitting right there?
When none of those things happened, I broke the silence myself. “I’m going to have a shower.”
Garrett nodded once. “I’ll be here.”
Of course you will. You’re on the job.
I was halfway through the kitchen when Jean appeared in the doorway, phone in hand. He was smiling. “I just got off the phone with my colleague. He’s rather excited to meet you both and is close enough to visit this afternoon. He should arrive around three.”
“That’s great.” I tried to match his enthusiasm, but Garrett’s near-silent treatment was setting me on edge. “Is he familiar with eggs like this?”
“He’s been researching this particular egg for years, apparently.” Jean’s eyes crinkled. “He was thrilled when I described it to him.”
Garrett’s posture shifted. “Thisegg? You told him about it?”
“The lost second egg, yes. He’s— No, no. I’ll let him explain. It’s quite a story.” Jean tucked his phone into his pocket. “If anyone can help you understand where it came from, it’s him.”
Chapter 22
Galahad
A car turnedonto the lane. I’d been watching from the window for the past twenty minutes. Grace had showered and changed into jeans and a soft gray T-shirt, then spent most of the day chatting with Jean, exploring his photos and his garden, and being generally happy she was about to get answers. She’d barely looked at me since this morning—since she’d asked me if I was single.
Single? Me?
Fucking hell, what other option was there? There was no time for dealing with a woman when I worked as hard as I did. No point in risking every ounce of stability I’d found since Carissa, just so I could have someone to… to… to hug me when I was upset?
Brain chemistry, Garrett. That’s all it was last night.
The car came closer.
“He’s here,” I said.
Grace crossed the room to join me at the window. She stood close enough I could smell the pear-scented shampoo Jean had found for her. My hand reached for the small of her back. But I stopped it before it found its landing zone and pulled it away.
Not now.
The driver’s door opened.
Pursed lips. Dark wavy hair and stubble. The Russian from Grace’s café.
Protect your woman.
