Page 25 of Falling for a Grumpy Hero

“That’s great. At least he gets out, right?” she said lightly before she changed the subject. “Oh, hey. Have I told you about the spatial design element I have to cover for my assignment? I was actually hoping you might let me pick your brain.”

The knots of tension inside me unraveled and I nodded, much more willing to talk about design than I was about my fucked up brain. “What do you want to know?”

The smile she gave me in return was so brilliant that I felt a little guilty about how curt I’d been with her. Putting in some real effort to make up for it, I answered all her questions patiently and gave some suggestions I thought might help.

When I finally dropped her off at her apartment, the goodbye was longer than I’d expected, with her still talking a mile a minute about her classes. We sat in my idling truck in front of her building, her hands and face completely animated and her eyes shining with real passion for what she was learning.

Inexplicably, I found myself watching her mouth, the soft pillows of her lips and the flashes of pink tongue I got every so often. Why can’t I just snap out of this fascination with her already?

“Get out,” I said gruffly when I realized it was entirely possible she would keep talking all night if I didn’t tell her to leave, but I didn’t really want her to go either.

Those cornflower blue eyes blinked a couple times too fast. Then she giggled, her cheeks flushing in the orange glow of the sunset filling the cab. “Sorry, I got carried away again. It’s just really nice to have someone to talk to about this stuff who gets it. Anyway, good night, boss. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I was barely listening, but I nodded my goodbye and very deliberately didn’t watch when she got out. Or as she walked toward her building. That tiny frame already haunted my dreams and I’d been wondering much too often as it was how those gently athletic curves would feel under my hands. The last thing I needed was another visual of her small, round ass swaying as she walked away.

Once she disappeared into the building and I knew she was safe, I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, wondering why I’d just had the urge to kiss her—and really fucking hoping that I didn’t feel it again when she got to work tomorrow.

13

LILA

My working weeks at CE were passing faster and faster. The more I got into the work, got to know the company, and interacted with the clients, the more I loved my job. It made the days pass in a blur of joy and learning—and Ford.

Sitting at the small dining table in my apartment, I worked on my project for school, but as I flipped through the designs I’d done for it so far, I realized they weren’t good enough. All the bones I needed were there, but something was missing.

I took a sip of coffee, the lukewarm liquid that hit my tongue making me grimace. Ew. How did that go cold so fast?

I moved my gaze to my laptop’s screen and sighed. Oh, right. It didn’t cool down so fast. I’ve just been sitting here a heck of a lot longer than I thought.

I’d developed a tendency to waste away my Saturday afternoons getting lost in my schoolwork, but I didn’t mind. I really loved the course. I just had to figure out how to impress my lecturer with this assignment and what I had so far wouldn’t cut it.

In the corner of my screen sat the folder I’d created for the Heritage House project. The small yellow icon caught my eye and I sank my teeth into my lower lip, the tiny stab of pain what I needed to click into it. Even though I wasn’t the actual designer on the project, I’d spent a lot of my free time this week working on some of the things Eliza and I had spoken about.

Things I could use for my project, I realized, a spike of excitement shooting through me and sending my adrenaline levels skyrocketing. I’d poured so much of myself into these designs and I knew they were perfect. With a few tweaks, they would work like a charm for my assignment.

As I scrolled through the folder, I couldn’t help but think back on the conversations I’d had with Eliza that day—and who else had been with us. For all His Grumpyship’s faults, he was a pretty darn good boss. During our visit, he’d let me brainstorm with her while he had inspected whatever he’d needed to and had taken his time in the areas that would receive his attention first.

It’d been exhilarating for me, getting to consult with an actual client about their needs and I’d been pretty taken aback that he’d given me free rein with her. He hadn’t interfered at all, only interjecting to take charge of the meeting when he’d needed some of his own questions answered.

For the rest of it, he’d left me to it. Not only that, but our afternoon together that day had turned out to be weirdly fun. I was starting to realize that I actually kind of liked Ford.

As a friend, obviously. And a boss. Nothing more.

While it was absolutely true that he was beyond gruff, could be abrupt to the point of rudeness, and often shut down when a subject came up that he didn’t want to discuss, it was strangely refreshing to talk to him. I could honestly say that I’d never spoken to anyone as direct or as blunt as he was, and there was something truly liberating about speaking to someone you could trust to give it to you straight.

Ford wasn’t the type for small talk or polite chatter. He meant what he said and he said what he meant. He didn’t mince his words and he didn’t give roundabout answers. There was no vagueness or uncertainty. When he didn’t want to answer a question or give certain information, he just didn’t do it and he wasn’t shy about it.

I was learning to appreciate that about him. While I worked on the designs, I pulled my new tablet closer and completed some more sketches, eventually going to stretch out on my couch with the tablet. I kept working, but I also couldn’t quite stop thinking about him now that I’d started again. Mental images of him sitting across from me that day at the food truck kept flashing through my mind and my lips tugged into a smile even though I hadn’t meant for it to happen.

Ford really was an incredibly good-looking man. The strong, clean-shaven jawline, broad shoulders, and slightly narrower hips? Yum.

I’d caught those stormy eyes on me a bunch of times this week, and without fail, I’d felt a little tingle of something shoot through me whenever it’d happened. And okay. I’ve thought about him at night too, when I’m alone in the dark in my bed.

I’d even wondered what it would be like to kiss him. And if I’m being completely honest, I’ve wondered about doing a hell of a lot more than just kissing him.

But I knew that was ridiculous. I couldn’t be fantasizing about my boss when I was supposed to be on the hunt for real love—the passionate kind. The kind I’d seen in movies where the guy professed his undying love—and to be able to get that, I needed a man who actually talked.

Ford, however, was a man of few words and the words he ended up saying were always gruff. I doubted he’d ever corner me, cage me in, and tell me that I hung the moon for him against a sea of stars. He wouldn’t twirl through the rain with me, kissing me hard before telling me that he’d burn the world to ash and lay it at my feet if anyone ever crossed what was his.