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Matt took a moment to acknowledge the shame that washed over him. He should have kept his hands off her and now he was going to do what he always did.
He rolled his shoulders and nodded. No use dragging this out. “Yeah.”
There was a pause and he turned around. It was the least he could do. Her bruised mouth trembled slightly, and that amazing mane of hair hung down her shoulders in a tangled mess. Her cheeks were pink and those luminous eyes didn’t leave his. It was easy for him to see the hurt there. She’d grabbed a throw blanket from the sofa and shivered slightly, her pink toenails sharp against the dull gray tile of the floor.
He supposed it said something about him—the fact that he noticed, the fact that he felt like shit because that sure as hell didn’t happen often. He’d warned her, but still…he owed her some kind of explanation.
“This can never work, Gracie. You and me.” He wondered if she heard the regret in his voice.
“Don’t call me Gracie.” The fireball was back and Matt nodded.
They watched each other for a few moments longer, and in those moments he knew that once again he’d managed to screw things up. He’d been honest but it hadn’t been enough.
“It was nice seeing you again,” he said carefully. He took a step back and then headed for the door, pulling out his cell to call a cab before he hit the first step down.
Matt waited in the dark for nearly an hour, jaw clenched tightly and growing angrier by the minute. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he connect?
But he knew, didn’t he? It’s why he kept running. And it sure as hell was why he would never stop.
3
SIX WEEKS LATER…
There was already three inches of snow on the ground, and by the looks of the clouds overhead, a lot more of the stuff was on its way. Great.
Grace pulled on her hood of her soft pink hoodie and shivered as she trudged through the heavy snow. A winter coat would have been a good idea. Maybe a good pair of boots too. In a foul mood, she smiled at no one. Not even the little kid who pointed excitedly, jumping up and down at the sight of her companion, Josh Hayden.
The up-and-coming shortstop had just finished his rookie season with the Texas Rangers and was one of Tucker Simon’s clients. Her brother had taken Josh on when no one else would—to say the guy had a troubled past would be an understatement. Hence the trip to New Waterford, Michigan, this blasted snow, and Josh’s chance to turn his image around.
“Damn,
but you owe me, Tucker,” Grace muttered, spying her rental.
This was the last place on earth she wanted to be, and she was only here because Tucker was in a jam. Grace still wasn’t sure what his emergency was about, but she knew her brother wasn’t the kind of guy to pass something off for no good reason.
And now she was here, babysitting a high profile pain in the ass and hoping like hell she didn’t run into Matt Hawkins. Or maybe she did want to run into him because she sure as hell had a lot to say about their night together. She just wasn’t so sure that would be a good thing.
If only she could stop thinking about him. About how aggressive and amazing and hot his lovemaking had been. If only she could forget how he’d fled her bed faster than anyone ever in the history of one-night-stands. Seriously. The guy couldn’t even spend the night.
Angered at the thought, she scowled and shoved her hand into the front pocket of her jeans and scooped out the keys. Served her right. She’d known he wasn’t the type to stay, but still…
“Want me to drive?”
“Nope.”
Josh looked a bit taken aback at her abrupt dismissal. “Not so sure an angry female behind the wheel in this storm is a good idea.”
Grace shot Josh a dark look and waited impatiently for the back door of the SUV to open. She’d met him at her brother’s office in New York City just this morning and the guy had way too much charm for her liking. She was done with men. DONE.
She tossed her periwinkle weekender bag inside. “Let’s go.”
The trip from the airport out to New Waterford took at least forty-five minutes longer than it should have. By the time they reached the outskirts of town, Grace had a monster of a headache and that was for a few reasons. The roads were bad, the snow hadn’t stopped, and Josh Hayden did not…
“Don’t you ever stop talking?” Grace snapped, maneuvering the SUV across the ice-coated bridge that ran through town.
Josh smiled and shook his head, tugging on his ball cap. His dark hair waved to his shoulders, and after the long trip, poked out in all directions. His deep blue eyes crinkled in the corners as his smile widened, and at any other time Grace would’ve had to acknowledge that the young man was hot. You know for a baseball player with hockey-hair flow.
“What’s your deal?” he asked.
