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“And I thought you said you weren’t a romantic.”
He frowned. “That’s not romance, that’s just telling you what I want to do with you.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I think you’re getting romance confused with bullshit. It seems to me that a lot of men do that. But there is a difference, a big one.”
He gave her a wry smile. “There is?”
“Yes, there is!” She pushed at his chest. “You think that being romantic is telling a woman what she wants to hear. We women call that bullshit.”
He laughed with her.
“So, what is romance then?”
“It’s the opposite of bullshit. It’s being honest, about how you feel and what you want.”
“But what if how I feel and what I want aren’t what you want to hear? It’s not romantic then.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, it isn’t. But the truth is always the truth, and it needs to be told. Romantic or not, the truth always beats bullshit.”
He looked more serious now. “I promise I won’t ever bullshit you, Hannah. I won’t lie to you.” He gave her a half smile. “And from what you’ve said, I shouldn’t try to be romantic either – just honest?”
“You can be romantic if you want – as long as you run it through a filter of if it feels good to you. Don’t just do stuff or say stuff because you think I’ll like it. Do if it you want to. Not to win brownie points.”
“Okay.” He dropped another kiss on her lips. “I’m going to be totally honest – and totally unromantic right now. I need to get up and get to the bathroom and deal with this condom.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “Like I said, the truth always beats bullshit.”
She smiled as she watched his ass disappear into the bathroom. At first, she’d been concerned that he hadn’t had many real relationships. Now, she was starting to think that might be a good thing. He wasn’t slipping into a role that he was used to playing. And because of that, or maybe just because of who he was, she wasn’t doing that either. And it felt good, real, honest. Her smile grew bigger as he came back. She’d have to watch herself; she could already see herself falling for him in a big way.
Chapter Fourteen
“Uncle Grady?”
He opened his eyes at the sound of Ava’s loud whisper. This was the second morning in a row he was waking up at Hannah’s place. But today it didn’t take him any time to remember it. He was in bed with Hannah, and Ava was standing in the doorway, peering around the half open door at him. His heart pounded. He’d reassured Hannah last night that it wouldn’t be an issue, but now he wasn’t sure if his words hadn’t been driven by the fact that his mind was mostly focused on getting her into bed. Now …
“Hey, Pixie. Are you okay?”
She nodded and gave him a big smile that went a long way toward reassuring him. “I thought you must be in here.” She looked at Hannah, who had woken up and was sitting up beside him, pulling the sheet up with her to keep her breasts covered.
“Good morning, Hannah.”
“Good morning, sweetie. Did you sleep okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Her smile faded. “Was it okay that Uncle Grady slept with you? He could have come in with me. I forgot that you didn’t have more bedrooms.”
Grady shot a sideways glance at Hannah; her cheeks were a little rosy, but she smiled. “It’s okay. I’m glad he came in here.”
Grady had to cover his laugh with a pretend cough. He’d come in here, all right. So had she. Before they went to sleep, and again in the middle of the night.
Ava didn’t seem to notice the undercurrent between them. “I have to get ready for school now.” She turned worried eyes on Grady. “Do you know what I’m going to do afterwards?”
Shit. He didn’t. He hadn’t wanted to ask Hannah last night. He didn’t want her to feel like he was dumping Ava on her.
She touched his arm, and when he looked at her, she raised her eyebrows.
“I’ll tell you what, Ava. You go and get dressed, and I’ll be out in a minute to make breakfast. Okay? I’ll see what I can figure out.”
“Okay.”
