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CHAPTER ELEVEN
BRITTANY
Opening the front door, Barnabas and Quentin race past me into the house, their nails clicking loudly on the scarred hardwood floors. The boys are just as happy to be home as I am. I haul my bag in and slump on the couch, my head falling back. “Ugh,” I groan up to the ceiling, while kicking my sneakers off and wiggling my sore feet.
Everything took longer than it should have, and the traffic was killer around the beltway. All I want to do is drag myself into a hot shower, then flop into bed and sleep for eight solid hours. I’m not cut out for the dog show circuit. Not the noise, the chaos, nor the stress. Although that could all be because of my client.
But it’s over with and she promised me a great testimonial, which should be a boost to my business, so two and a half days of bone-weary exhaustion is worth it.
That’s what I tell myself.
Dragging myself up, I go put down fresh water and dry food for the pups and take that overdue shower. The water pressure in the hotel stank and I forgot to pack my conditioner, so made do with the hotel’s little complimentary bottle. It left my hair limp, and the hard water had my skin itchy.
There’s no place like home and that’s a fact. Drying off, I throw on a pair of yoga pants and a loose t-shirt and head into the kitchen to grab a protein bar. Checking my phone, I still have a few hours until Grant gets off work and comes over. Plenty of time to pull myself together so I don’t scare my boyfriend.
Boyfriend, huh? Is that what he is?
It’s what I want. I missed him terribly.
Maybe it’s time to make things official. I don’t want to date anyone else. So why not declare my intentions of having him fall helplessly in love with me?
My sudden laugh startles Quentin, who jerks from his spot in front of the sliding glass door leading out to the backyard. “Sorry,” I tell him, leaning down and running my hands over his smooth, silky ears. “What do you think about having Grant for a daddy and Tory for your brother, hmm? Sound good?”
Giving him another rub, I stand up and go into the living room to catch up on some shows I missed.
My doorbell rings ten minutes later, bringing a puzzled frown to my face. It’s way too early for Grant and I’m not expecting any packages.
Grant is standing on my doorstep, a look on his face I’m not familiar with that instantly has me wary. “Hey, you’re early,” I say, stepping back and giving him room to come in. My heart is beating almost painfully in my chest, and I wipe suddenly damp palms on my pants.
My smile is a bit wobbly when I move to hug him and falls completely when he takes ahold of my arms, stopping me from embracing him. “We need to talk,” he says quietly.
A million thoughts race through my head, competing with the sudden pounding of my blood in my temples, making it hard to think. One comes through loud and clear, though.
Why?
What have I done now to lose him?
“You’re breaking up with me?” I whisper through a suddenly tight throat.
His dark eyes flare wide a moment before his arms tug me against the firm warmth of his chest. “No!” he says roughly into my hair. His arms tighten around me, and I feel his lips brushing over my still damp hair. “I want to see more of you.”
I relax into his hug, wrapping my arms around his waist and snuggling closer. “I want to see more of you too,” I say, feeling suddenly shy.
Grant gently entangles himself from me, his eyes dark and serious when he meets my gaze. “I got a call today with a job offer.”
“A job offer?” I tilt my head, trying to work out what he means. He loves his job.
“An opportunity came up several months ago and I applied for a position with Griffin Plastics in Indiana.”
It feels like a Great Dane is sitting on my chest. “Indiana,” I echo dully.
He nods. “Yes, Indiana. It’s the job of a lifetime. I’d be Senior Lead Developer.”
“And you got it?”
“If I want it, it’s mine. They sent me the acceptance package that outlines salary, benefits, housing allowance…” He trails off and licks his lips.
It’s obvious how difficult this is for him to tell me. And I know he’s going to accept the job. I don’t know the plastics world, but I know senior lead sounds important. The job of a lifetime, he said.
