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“Fuck. Fuck.”
She jumped, looking up with shock as something slammed against the wall. She stared down at the mug of coffee that he’d thrown against the wall.
This was . . . unexpected. Grady was the calm one. Steele had shown he had a temper, although she knew he’d never harm her. But Grady was usually tied down tight, his emotions under wraps . . . but not right now.
Right now, he seemed tortured.
He leaned his hands on the counter, bending his head down.
Fuck. Had she done that to him?
She rushed toward him, uncaring that she was in bare feet and there were sharp shards of crockery on the ground. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against his back
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He was so still that she was certain he didn’t hear her. Then he suddenly straightened and reached around to grab her, pulling her to his front and then lifting her so she sat up on the counter.
He still looked rough. Haunted. She wished she could do something to help. This wasn’t her Grady.
She had to fix this.
“What can I do? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it.” She reached up to touch his face but at the last moment, pulled back.
He grabbed her hand, drawing it to his cheek, then he turned his mouth, kissing her palm.
“I fucked up last night.”
“What? No, you didn’t. If anyone fucked up, it’s me this morning.”
He shook his head and placed his hands on either side of her. “Sweetheart, I have my demons.”
She nodded, eyes wide. “I guess we all do.”
“Yes, but not all of us let those demons dictate their every fucking action.”
She sucked in a breath at his savage-sounding words. Then she straightened her shoulders. “We’re all nuts here, remember?” She threw his words back at him.
“Some of us more than others.”
“Well, I hear my dead nan’s voice in my head, berating me constantly. So I guess you’re right, some more than others.”
His gaze narrowed. “I wasn’t talking about you.”
She raised her chin. “I’m nuts, crazy, loopy—”
“Stop that right now,” he commanded. “One more word and I’m going to turn you over my knee.”
Was she going to do it? She was operating on pure instinct here. But that instinct was telling her to push.
That it might be the only way to reach him.
“Promises. Promises.”
Heat filled his eyes. “Is my good girl feeling naughty today?”
“Your good girl doesn’t think you have it in you to spank her. She thinks you might be all talk no action.”
Suddenly she was lifted off the counter, then spun so she faced the island. His hand went to the back of her neck, pressing her down so her chest was against the cool countertop.
