Page 4 of Sheltering You

Still transferring cans into the cooler, Grant said, “Canceling a day before a trip is good?”

“Obviously not.” Derrick couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice. He lifted the last box of soda from the floor and slammed it on the counter. “But neither is what just happened. I probably lost that client for good.”

“You need better clients.”

“Owning your own business isn’t that simple.”

Grant shrugged. “I wouldn’t do business with people—do life with people—who think they can walk on me. Sometimes, you have to stand up for yourself. The people who matter will respect you for it. The people who don’t respect you for it—they don’t matter.”

Easy for Grant to say. He wasn’t an entrepreneur. He didn’t have to kowtow to rich people to make ends meet.

Derrick grabbed a bag of ice from the freezer and dumped it on top of the cans and water bottles.

Not that the drinks wouldn’t get cold enough just being outside today. It was December in Maine, after all. Probably wouldn’t even hit thirty-five degrees.

“Thanks.” Grant added a plastic bag that someone had packed for the snowmobiling excursion. Because as long as the women were off to do something fun, the men ought to as well.

Derrick had so few interactions with Grant. He hated that this one had been focused on his own deficiencies, especially when he had something far more important to talk about. “Can I ask you a question?”

His brother closed the cooler, then lifted the giant thing and set it by the door to the garage. He straightened and leaned against the countertop, nodding for Derrick to go ahead.

“You and Summer were friends for a long time before you were together, right?”

Grant nodded again. The man used words as if each one were as valuable as gold and he was low on cash.

“How’d you go from friends to…more?”

At that, his brother’s lips tipped up at the corner. “Sure you want my advice?”

“You made it happen, so I think I do.”

“Took seven years.”

“From when you met? Or from when you realized you had feelings for her?”

“Yes.”

Oh.

Not what Derrick wanted to hear.

“Summer wasn’t ready,” Grant said. “I had to be patient. But then I got to the point where it was too hard to be around her. I had to tell her the truth. Figured if she didn’t feel anything for me by then, it was time to walk away.”

“I’m not waiting seven years.” And Derrick wasn’t walking away either. That wasn’t an option.

He was all-in with Jasmine. He’d had no say in the matter. One look and he was smitten like…like some stupid lovesick puppy.

Grant shrugged. “If I’d tried to rush Summer, she’d have pushed me away. Or slugged me—you never know with her.” By the way his eyes lit, he seemed delighted by the prospect.

Before she’d opened the clothing boutique, his wife had been a bodyguard, like Grant, so Derrick figured she packed a punch.

“Seven years, though.” Derrick ran a hand down his face. He couldn’t imagine waiting so long. “And then you just told her, and she…what? Did she feel the same way? Everything was good after that?”

By the quirk of Grant’s lips, that wasn’t exactly how it happened. “She came around.”

“You really know how to encourage a guy.”

“Never been good at dancing around the truth. I can tell you this—Summer was worth the wait.” Grant clamped a hand on Derrick’s shoulder. “Considering nobody reads people like you do, I figure your girl must be too.”