AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Like half the girls in Redhaven, I thought I was going to be the magic one who could get through to him when all he saw was a skinny pipsqueak who wouldn’t go away.
I want to hate him forthat, too.
But I’m not that girl anymore.
I’m a grown woman with a life and problems of my own.
I don’t need Grant Faircross to notice me.
Except as he stands there, looking at me with his thick, coarse hands resting on his hips and the wind whipping at his chocolate hair with just a hint of silver, I’m frozen.
Absolutely tongue-tied since I won’t admit to being awed.
I can’t handle this right now.
It’s too much, too soon, when everything else piling up has me feeling as fragile as blown glass. So ready to shatter in an instant if he utters one harsh word.
But he doesn’t say anything at all.
He just reaches inside the patrol car, retrieves a battered brown cowboy hat from the dash, and settles it on his head.
My breath stalls.
Ethan’s hat.
My brother used to wear that freaking thing everywhere, ever since he was a kid, never caring that it was too big for him. Then one day he just chucked it onto Grant’s head and said,If you won’t say we’re best friends, you big asshole, at least wear this dumb hat. That way I know we’re cool.
Grant didn’t say a word.
He never did.
The man could never string a single sentence together in emotional-speak.
Oh, but he’d worn that dumb hat, all right.
And seeing it settled on his head now, the broad brim shadowing his eyes and the leather band still dotted with those turquoise beads I carved ages ago into the shapes of crude, tiny butterflies...
I’m gone.
I feel myself falling down, ready to cry.
I’m actuallygladwhen Grant doesn’t say one word.
He just strides past me, his steps long and lazy with a terrible hint of swagger.
So, he still carries himself with the aura of a man who knows just how much space he takes up and how much strength he packs in the slightest movement.
There’s a breathless moment when he brushes past me.
When my lungs remember how to work, I can even smell him.
Something like woodsmoke and fresh, clean, earthy masculinity.
His scent slaps me back to that unspeakable night so long ago.
A time when I thought nothing of being buried against Grant’s chest, secretly burning and hiding against him while he held me, comforted me, kept my crumbling world from falling down.
He let me inhale him then until I couldn’t smell the salt of my own tears pouring down my cheeks.
