Arrogant Savior: A Hero Club Novel

by Terri E. Laine

  That would be better than sex. Then again, maybe I hadn’t been with the right woman. My mind traveled back to the sexy brunette who was likely sprawled out right before the fire.

  A chill crept over me as the light in my room went out.

  A slew of curses left my lips as I got to my feet. It was too late to go searching for the problem. I had to put more wood on the fire.

  I hoped that Jolene wouldn’t mind me sharing the covers because this level of cold was life-threatening. Sharing body heat was the best possible way for survival.

  As I walked into the living room, the soft sounds of her breathing filled the room. I can easily lie on the sofa, I told myself as I put two more logs on the fire.

  She hadn’t moved as decision time hit me.

  Seven

  Jolene

  A shock of cold air hitting my sock covered feet jolted me awake. I blinked several times to clear away the cobwebs in my vision or my brain as complete darkness consumed me. I shivered and noticed the fire flicker. I rolled to my left and stilled.

  A massive man was draped over the sofa in the most uncomfortable position. A thin blanket covered his upper half, leaving the lower section, including an impressive bulge through the molded thermal fabric, on full display.

  I glanced away and noticed how toasty I was despite my foot, which I’d pulled back under the safety of the pile of blankets on top of me. I didn’t remember so many layers of covers. Had he added some, leaving him with only a tiny blanket?

  The idea of that kindness pricked the back of my eyes. I’d dealt with a lot of selfishness in my life that I couldn’t be unaffected by selflessness. Like the food he’d kept warm for me. I’d scarfed it down so fast, I’d been surprised that I hadn’t choked.

  “Grant,” I said, my voice croaking on the word.

  I had to say it a few times before he jerked upright. “What!” he said, looking around before he seemed to wake from whatever dream he was having. “Oh, the power’s out,” he said as if it was no big deal.

  “That much I assumed. But the fire’s out too.”

  He glanced over and got to his feet. The thermals clung to every muscle he had, which was a lot of definition on a man as fit as he was.

  “I could have added a log,” I said in my defense. “But many home fires begin from fireplaces. I didn’t want to do anything wrong.”

  I ended my babbling as he walked over to a wood pile that had been depleted.

  “No worries, I’ve got it,” he said, without any snark.

  He added the last two logs and rolled up some paper he grabbed from the kitchen. He lit it all and the fire grew, though nothing like the one that had greeted me when I first lay down. Then he went to settle himself back on the sofa, trying in vain to cover himself with the small blanket that looked toddler sized on him.

  “We could share,” I said, feeling an internal heat brighten my cheeks because the words had come out in a squeak. He only stared at me, so I continued. “We’re adults. It’s freezing and no way am I going to take all your covers.” I shrugged. “Don’t they say sharing body heat is a good thing.”

  Did I really just say that?

  His face lit up with a triumphant grin and I closed my eyes, waiting for him to say something about body heat and other things. But he didn’t. Instead, I heard movement before I felt it.

  The queen-sized air mattress he’d set up was a good size for me. Add a six-foot something mountain of a man and it was like we were sharing a twin.

  Comically, we twisted and turned, trying to find a comfortable spot when the blankets and quilts covered us both. In the end, he caught my hips right after I’d given him my back. I stopped moving, not only because he’d apparently wanted me to, but also because I was shocked by his big hands on me.

  “Stay still,” he said. The baritone in his voice was a command itself.

  “I’m trying to get comfortable,” I protested.

  “If you’d stop and not fight me, I can get us both there.”

  I wanted to ignore how sexually charged I could take that statement as he closed the distance between us by pulling my back to meet his chest and then draping an arm over me.

  I couldn’t breathe, let alone move. That sizable bulge of his was cradled against my bottom. I was reared speechless by the sizzle that zinged through me.

  It had been months since I’d been this close to a man. The heartbreak of Carter—Tripp was a bucket of cold water from wanting to date any man.

  Yet, my skin tingled at every spot we were connected. Considering we were doing big spoon, little spoon, that was almost every part of the back of my body.

  Grant was many things, a jerk-faced arrogant asshole to start, but he was also smoking hot. A face like his could melt the heart of any ice queen. But I also had to acknowledge a level of kindness most likely born out of manners he probably rarely used. But it was there.

  “Sleep,” he said.

  The warmth of his words tickled my neck and down my spine in the form of a shiver.

  “That’s not a good idea,” he said, causing my jaw to drop.

  My first instinct was to sit up so I could face him. He had other ideas. The arm that had been casually draped over me, now tightened as he tucked it under my breasts. The top of his hand rested between the right one with his palm against the mattress.

  “You can let go. That wasn’t an invitation. I caught a chill,” I protested.

  “Whatever you say, Highness. Get some sleep.”

  Words that would have made my prim mother blush flung through my head as I gritted my teeth to keep them from spilling out.

  Then something happened which caused a smile to blossom on my face. What had appeared to be some form of a snake coiled in his pants began to thicken and harden. Apparently, he wasn’t as unaffected by me as he pretended to be.

  “Just a normal reaction, Highness. Stop smiling and get some sleep, unless you’re prepared to do other activities that could keep us warm.”

  The nerve of the man. Cockiness oozed from his pores. That didn’t explain how he’d known I was smiling when I was faced the other way.

  “That’s a girl. Sleep now.”

  I closed my eyes and tight, and not because he said so. Only to forget that he was holding me close and it felt nice. Maybe more than nice if I could accept that. What girl didn’t want to be held, especially when you’d never been held like this?

  I’d sleep in the bed with a few guys and they would spoon for a few minutes if I were lucky before turning away, leaving me cold and empty on the inside.

  Schoolgirl fantasies filled my head as I pretended the guy holding me was a prince of a man who would sweep me off my feet. I let those wishful thoughts carry me into dreamland.

  The smell of bacon woke me up. That was when I noticed that I was alone, and I hated that I hadn’t memorized the feeling of safety and comfort that I’d gotten from having him so close.

  I also realized the fire was once again blazing.

  After sitting up, I stretched, surprised how rested I’d felt. I’d been tense lying beside the beguiling man. Yet somehow I’d also found the rest I hadn’t felt since hearing my grandmother was in the hospital.

  Grandmother. I rolled off the mattress so fast, I bounded on the floor reaching for my phone. I landed with an umph and a grunt. I glanced up to find Grant eyeing me before walking away with an almost imperceptible grin on his face.

  Why was I constantly making a fool of myself in front of this man like a girl with a crush, something I totally didn’t have?

  Flipping over my phone, not only did I notice my battery was nearly dead, I also saw there was no signal. I also had a recent text. The storm must have stopped long enough for something to get through.

  The text came from Christian, not Dad, as I didn’t label him as such on my phone. He hadn’t ever really been a dad to me.

  Christian: Where are you? Call as soon as possible.

  Was my grandmother okay? I found myself choked up.


  “I have to go.” The first time it came out as a whisper. I said it again with volume and Grant nodded.

  “I was going to talk to you about that. I have the generator going, but it won’t last. I need to check on my dad. I can’t get in touch with him. But first we eat.”

  He set two plates on the small table. A girl could get used to having an attractive man cook for her. Only this man was far from mine.

  Though my stomach was tied in knots, I forced the food down my throat. I wanted to run down the mountain to get in touch with my father. Thankfully, I kept the tears at bay while we ate in silence. Grant seemed preoccupied with worry for his dad, which was why I didn’t fight for him to drop everything and leave. He had things at stake too.

  Then somehow, without words, we acted like a coordinated team. I quickly did the dishes as he put out the fire. I folded up the blankets after he took my bag and one of his own to stow on the four-wheeler.

  In fifteen minutes, I was once again wrapped around him with bags tied around my feet. With my hands tucked under his coat, we made our way on the ATV through the thick layer of snow and what continued to fall heavily with no end in sight.

  When we arrived, the place looked deserted. Though he’d taken the time to help me off the ATV, once he was off, he ran toward the office, which was shrouded in darkness.

  His fear ratcheted up my own as I followed a few paces behind him.

  Eight

  Grant

  My dad and I didn’t get along a lot of times, but the thought that something happened to him scared me.

  I tore through the office door, which was unlocked. I tried not to think about it. Security wasn’t a big risk in my small town. But it worried me when I couldn’t reach him via phone or radio.

  The office seemed to grow longer with each stride. “Dad,” I called as my heart thundered in my chest.

  I crashed through the door that separated the lobby with the back office.

  “Dad!”

  When I caught sight of him in the small cubby we kept in case someone needed to stay overnight, my heart stopped until he jerked upright.

  “What is it, boy?” He looked around, wondering what was going on.

  I couldn’t speak with my tongue caught in my throat. A hand landed on my arm and I glanced down to see Jolene. Our eyes locked a second before she moved into the room and sat next to my dad.

  “We were concerned about you. Grant hasn’t been able to get in touch with you.”

  She’d wrapped a comforting arm around him. “He was?” he asked, grinning at me when she looked my way.

  “Old man,” I said in warning.

  “What? Can’t I sleep?”

  I glared at him. “You should check your phone.”

  He shrugged. “Power’s out. I was saving my battery.”

  “You could have texted me.”

  Jolene stood up, blocking my view of him as he said, “I did.”

  She placed a hand on my chest like she had to hold me back. I took her hand, noticing how soft it was.

  “I’m fine,” I said before letting her go and walking out of the room to cool off.

  Of course, I was happy he was okay, but he was eating up her attention. I didn’t want to accept it annoyed me.

  When they emerged from the room, Jolene gave me a shy smile I couldn’t interpret.

  “I need to make a call,” she said, holding the phone high in the air as if that would give her a better signal.

  “Try the lobby,” I offered.

  She nodded at me and disappeared through the door that separated the two.

  Dad came over, reaching a hand up to clap my shoulder.

  “Stay away from that, son.”

  “You think I’m interested in her?” I spoke with more incredulity than I felt. “You don’t have to worry about that. But maybe it’s time to abandon ship, old man.”

  “I’m fine, boy,” he said, patting my shoulder.

  “Look around you. No one is flying in this weather.” I pointed to my mouth as I spoke. “It’s freezing in here. And don’t give me your how you lived speech because we both know you had a butler, maid, and a whole staff in the mansion you grew up in.”

  His hand dropped. I’d crossed a line. He’d said many times he’d made his bed and he was fine with it. But in this moment, I hated them all. From the mother who had abandoned us, to an uncle who had stolen my father’s inheritance, to cousins who hadn’t acknowledged my existence. I hated wealth and the rich people who had it.

  “You need to let it go, son. Money is nothing but the root of evil. It causes hate, mistrust, and deception. The day I walked away from that life was my happiest.”

  I wanted to believe him, but I didn’t.

  “Just think about what this could be if you had that money. You could have lived your dream and had a thriving business,” I challenged.

  He shook his head. “Everything here is mine and I earned it. It wasn’t given to me with strings attached.”

  “And Mom?”

  He held my gaze. “I loved her. But she wouldn’t have ever been happy here. And I got you out of the deal.”

  The old ache came back, and I rubbed at my chest. “She didn’t just leave you.”

  “And that’s the only thing I’m sorry for. But I’m not sorry she got pregnant. I’m thankful that she chose life for you. She had an easier out. Yet, she made a go of it for a while.”

  “Queen of the mountain didn’t suit her.”

  Dad licked his chapped lips. “I never told you this, but the guy—”

  “The one she married?”

  “Him. His plane had trouble and landed here. It was going to take a few days to fix. I sent her with him and his pilot to town since he wouldn’t know his way. You were small, but loved planes and wanted to stay with me.”

  I ran a hand over my head as the conclusion of that story became apparent.

  “Do you regret that?”

  “No, son. It was better to know sooner that she was never mine. He offered her everything I gave up.”

  I blew out a frustrated breath. “Yeah, a husband and two sons.”

  There was no need to say three sons because she didn’t acknowledge me at all. No birthday calls, presents, or cards. I was but a memory she’d like to forget.

  “It wasn’t you. He didn’t want a ready-made family and she was selfish enough to let go of the best thing in her life.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if the cold had frozen his brain cells.

  “How could you know?” I asked.

  “She calls.” That news shut me up. “She isn’t as happy as you think she is.”

  “And that’s all you’re going to tell me.”

  He sighed. “Isn’t my story to tell. But we’ve all heard the quote ‘the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.’”

  “I don’t give a shit. She isn’t worth the ink on my birth certificate.”

  Dad might have said something more if a tear-streaked Jolene hadn’t walked in.

  Nine

  Jolene

  “You think I’m interested in her? You don’t have to worry about that.”

  His words rang clear as I hadn’t moved far enough from the door. Old insecurities of my self-worth crept in as I felt the prick of tears.

  I wanted to believe my emotions had gotten away from me due to fear for my grandmother. But that wasn’t it, was it? Damn Tripp. I’d been smug thinking I’d bagged the untouchable bad boy, yet I was the one left with egg on my face.

  “Hello.” The voice was familiar and unfamiliar.

  For a fraction of a second, I almost said the D word. Instead, I said, “Christian.”

  I wasn’t sure if he heard me or if I’d lost the connection because it took him a beat longer to answer.

  “Jo.”

  “Yes, it’s me,” I answered.

  “Thank God. I—You’re okay?”

  Was he about to say he was worried?

  “Yes. I’m
stuck in…” I glanced around and almost went to go ask when I remembered the conversation I’d overhead. “I’m in Clinestown, Maryland. There’s a storm. We can’t fly out. How’s Grandmother?”

  It almost felt weird saying Grandmother and not Gran. But at the same time, it suited her. She was a regal woman with glossy silver hair and the sharp mind of a CEO.

  “She has pneumonia and everything they’re doing isn’t working. I don’t mean to scare you.”

  I’d unconsciously covered my mouth as a burst of pain filled my chest. I had to remove it to speak.

  “No. I’d rather know the truth,” I admitted.

  “The truth is, the doctors aren’t sure she’s going to make it.”

  A pained gasp escaped me.

  “Can I speak to her?” I asked before I realized my mistake.

  “I’m sorry, Jo. She can barely speak.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Fine. I’ll call you right back.”

  I agreed to dead air and waited a beat. And another to the point I lifted the phone high in the air as I walked to the picture windows, hoping I hadn’t lost the signal.

  Then it rang. I accepted the video call and my father filled the screen. My friends had called him hot more than once, and as one of the richest men in the United States, he had his fair share of press. But to me he was Christian.

  “Here she is,” he said, moving toward my poor grandmother who looked as white as the bleached sheets she lay helplessly on in a hospital bed.

  “Jo,” she whispered.

  I tried to hide the despair I felt with a wooden smile that was brittle at best from the thumb view of myself in the corner of the screen.

  “Don’t talk. I love you and I’m going to get there somehow.”

  “I love you,” she croaked before gasping in a coughing fit that set off alarms.

  Suddenly, the screen yanked away, and my father moved further back into the room until it got quieter.

  “What’s happening?” I cried.

  “Have you been watching the news?”

  “No, why?”