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Those words shouldn’t make her want to cry. They shouldn’t reach around her heart and pump it full of warmth.
But they did . . . because when was the last time anyone had asked her that? Well, other than when she actually hurt herself physically that was.
“Do you think it’s possible to die of embarrassment?” she whispered.
Nan was right.
She simply wasn’t normal.
“No,” Grady said bluntly. Which was typical for Grady. He wasn’t a guy who sugar-coated things. Mostly, she appreciated that. Sometimes, like right now, she wished he’d make stuff up to make her feel better. “And you have no reason to be embarrassed.”
“I talked about porn. And I hid under my desk. From my bosses.”
“Up you come,” Steele told her before reaching down and actually picking her up.
Wow. He was strong.
He set her down on her feet in front of him.
Right in front of him.
She went to step back only to feel Grady move in behind her, so she was sandwiched between them.
Something a woman could only dream of. And something she had on good authority that every woman who worked at Pinkies had likely dreamed of.
“Don’t want you sitting on the floor,” Steele told her. “That’s not where you belong.”
She liked sitting on the floor sometimes. But it did feel like the older she got, the harder it was to get up and down.
And you’re only thirty-five.
Yes, but sometimes she felt worn down by life. Like she was aging faster than everyone else.
“You good?” Steele asked.
She smiled wide. “I made peanut butter cups today.”
“Sounds delicious, but that’s not what I asked. You okay?”
“Of course.”
His eyes studied her, then narrowed. “You’re not.”
Yikes.
How did he know that?
“No lying, baby girl. We’ve talked about this.”
Gulp.
“I’ve talked about it with her too. She might have a problem,” Grady stated.
“I do not! I do not have a problem with lying!”
“You have a problem with following instructions?” Steele asked.
“Um. I don’t think so.”
