Page 266 of Manhattan Bossholes

She frowned at me. “I’m hardly the only person in the world who’s lost someone. You’ve been through it yourself, haven’t you?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean…your grandfather. Davis. You’ve lost him.”

“I did,” I agreed.

“How old were you?”

“Thirteen.” It felt like a lifetime ago. “But I think that was different. When Papa Davis died…Well, first of all, it was expected. He’d been sick for a while, so in a way there was time to make peace with it and to say our goodbyes.”

“I’d imagine that makes it easier in some ways, but probably harder in others,” Natasha said.

“True,” I admitted. “I’m not saying it was easy on anyone, especially Nana Dee. But it wasn’t a shock. More than that, I had family around.”

“I’m sure watching Nana Dee go through that must have been difficult. I know how much she means to you.”

She wasn’t wrong. I supposed having family around weighed on me in its own way. Nana Dee was usually my support person, but she’d been too grief-stricken at the time to be much support to anyone. And Jimmy was just a baby, only about a year old. Way too young to understand what was going on. “I guess there was a part of me that had to set aside my own grief,” I said. “At least to make sure Dee and Jimmy were okay.”

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on the shoulders of a kid,” Natasha said. “Because that’s what you were.”

“But even that was better than not having anyone,” I said. “What you’ve been through is so much worse.”

Natasha hummed softly. “We don’t have to compete. This isn’t the grief Olympics. We can both just be sad for the things we’ve experienced, the choices we’ve had to make.”

I’d never had anyone say that to me before. I always thought I had to be strong. Strong for Dee. Strong for Jimmy. Strong enough to hold them together in the wake of Papa Davis’s death. Strong enough to bring the company back together after my parents nearly tore it apart. Strong for my friends as well, when Dominic was dealing with his divorce, and Vincent’s ex dragged him into a scandal, and Aiden nearly threw away his chance with the love of his life. I’d always done my best to show up for the people who mattered to me, but I’d never really given myself permission to be the one needing support. But Natasha made me feel like I could.

“Where should I take this thing?” Natasha asked as we reached the city, affectionately tapping the dashboard.

“Head back to Queens,” I suggested. “I’ll call a car service to come grab me. And I’ll send someone to pick up the U-Haul in the morning.”

“You mean a tow truck?” she teased. “Because once I turn off the engine, it might never turn on again.”

I grimaced. “That might be for the best.”

Natasha was still chuckling as we pulled onto her street. She parked the truck in front of her brownstone, expertly squeezing in between two cars.

“Impressive,” I said. “Barely bumped the curb.”

She grinned, pulling the keys out of the ignition. “I’ve got skills beyond your wildest dreams.”

I arched one eyebrow, laughing at the way she said it. “Oh yeah. Like what?”

“That’s need-to-know information, Mr. Saunders.” She smirked at me, and it set my heart racing. Why the hell did she have to look at me like that? My mind was suddenly running through a whole naughty list of possibilities for all these skills she was alluding to. The air between us heated, charged with something that made my skin tingle.

“Thanks for driving,” I said.

“No problem. You were injured in my workshop. Felt like the least I could do.”

Natasha made no move to get out, and neither did I. We just sat there, staring at each other for what felt like the longest minute of my life. I was aching for her, and I couldn’t think of a single reason to hold myself back. Not when I could tell she wanted it too. I moved, and so did she, inching closer to me. I heard her sharp intake of breath as I ducked my head. I’d been thinking about this moment since our afternoon in the church…thinking about what I would do if I was presented with the moment again.

Go for it, my mind screamed. Make the move.

And I sure as hell went for it, catching her lips in a kiss, one hand cradling her jaw, the other tangling in the curls tumbling down the side of her face. I felt half mad with desire that only surged higher as her pillowy lips parted against mine. She made a soft sound in the back of her throat that was the sexiest damn thing I’d ever heard. I stroked my thumb across her cheek, lost in its softness. It was a shock to the system when she pulled back. I blinked at her, lightheaded.

Natasha smiled shyly, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, which made my head spin even more. I wanted to reach out and wrap her in my arms—but she’d pulled away, and I had to respect that.

She squeezed my hand. “Goodnight, Trent.”