Page 22 of Falling for a Grumpy Hero

This second cup is going to be even better than the first. At least now I know that I’ve sent the email and checked my account. The two biggest things on my to-do list for the day had been checked off already and it was barely eight a.m. This is cause for celebration.

Shifting my laptop off my legs to the coffee table, I stood up and stretched my arms out above my head, relishing the feeling of having a body that moved freely and without any sluggishness, aches, or pains. I knew better than anyone what a huge blessing that was, and I didn’t ever want to take it for granted.

As I came out of my stretch, I sent a quick thanks out into the universe and went to my kitchen, picking up the still hot pot of coffee I’d made just a little while ago. See, so many things to be thankful for.

Just as I poured my second cup, the buzzer in my apartment went off, alerting me that there was someone at the door. I frowned. No one except Addy and Taylor had ever been here, and I hadn’t ordered anything for delivery.

That’s odd. Someone must be lost.

I wrapped my fingers around the mug and strode to the intercom, pressing the button and holding it down. “Hello?”

“Hey, Lila. It’s Ford. Can I come up?”

Surprise washed over me in waves so strong, I nearly dropped my coffee. “Uh, okay.”

I pressed the button to let him in, glancing down at myself and grimacing when I realized I was still in my pajamas. They weren’t indecent, a cute, summer flannel set with a picture of a donkey on the shirt and the words, “Lazy Ass” printed underneath it. The shorts had donkeys printed on them too, but at least they covered my whole, actual ass, so I was good.

Sort of. Not at all, but okay. It’s too late now.

Walking over to the door, I breathed in deep and swung it open, wondering if perhaps this morning had all been a dream. There was no way my moody boss had actually come here, but then the elevator dinged at the far end of the hall, and when the doors slid open, Ford Callahan stepped out.

The man really was gorgeous. I might be a Lazy Ass, but he’s a Handsome Ass. Maybe I’ll have a matching pajama set made for him.

All that dark hair was stylishly tousled, short enough not to fall across his forehead, but long enough not to be a buzz-cut either. I still hadn’t figured out if he actually styled it that way or if he simply brushed his fingers through it while it was still wet and let fate take the wheel.

Whatever it was, the look worked on him. As did the charcoal gray tailored suit and the white button-down—without a single wrinkle today—he had on underneath it. Ford never seemed to wear ties and his footwear of choice, strangely, was a pair of black sneakers rather than polished dress shoes.

Just another part of the mystery that is Ford Callahan.

“What are you doing here?” I watched him approach, wary of his motivation for coming to my home. “Did you come to fire me in person?”

“Nope.” He seemed incredibly uncomfortable, gaze quickly raking over me when he seemed to realize I was still in my pajamas. He brushed past me anyway, into my little apartment without offering a single word of explanation just yet.

I sighed, a little over his eccentricities at this point. After Taylor had told me that Ford had been a marine and that he’d been in a bad helicopter accident, I’d often wondered if being a survivor had made him like this. If he’d shut down, gone dark, after his experiences over there.

I knew that it could happen. I had enough personal experience with nearly dying and being around people who had either also nearly died—or hadn’t been lucky enough in the end to survive—to know that it was possible for that darkness to take over.

Honestly, I just didn’t know Ford well enough yet to even guess at why he was the way he was. It was also entirely possible that I was reading too much into it and he was simply a natural born prick. I knew that could happen too, a genetic snafu that doomed its human to being a jerk without a cause.

I shut my door and turned to see that he’d stopped about halfway across my studio, his head dropped back as his gaze moved back and forth. Clearly, he was inspecting every inch of this place. I just wasn’t sure if it was professional interest or judgment. It was a fair toss-up between the two at this point.

As if he felt me staring at his back, he brought his gaze to mine and took charge, like he had an annoying tendency to do. I’d come to realize that Ford did Ford. Always. Whatever he wanted. Whenever he wanted, that was him. There was no in-between. “Since you’re screening my calls and apparently not coming to the office anymore, I thought I should come apologize in person.”

My eyes widened and I genuinely wished he didn’t look so good. If only there had been a neon sign across his stupidly flat abs that read “Damaged Goods,” maybe I wouldn’t have been tempted to look at him like I was attracted to him. There was no sign, though—and he was just ridiculously attractive for a damaged and/or genetically predispositioned prick.

He sighed, and I could tell this was taking all of his strength and patience. I felt a little smug about it, so I arched an eyebrow to prompt him to continue.

Tall, Dark, and Moody seemed anguished for a moment before he nodded. “Right, well, I am sorry for speaking to you the way I did. I shouldn’t have done that. I do have to agree with you that my office was messy and having had some time to examine the way that you organized it, things definitely worked out in my favor.”

My lips were begging to break into a smile and tell him that I appreciated all of that and that I would be at the office in an hour, but I didn’t break. This man had thought that he could walk all over me and now he was the one who’d come here to apologize.

It took a big man to do that. A confident one with the gonads to own up to a mistake and an ego big enough to withstand a little knock.

But none of that meant I was obliged to make it easy on him. I was about to get sassy and demand a little more when he suddenly pulled my school binder out of the leather bag hanging over his shoulder.

“You forgot this yesterday,” he explained as he held it out to me. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got you something.”

As I took the binder from him, his hand dove back into the bag and came out with a tablet. I frowned, but unfortunately, I also noticed how good looking even his damn hands were as he made to pass the box over to me.