by Nina Lindsey
As she was studying a food-porn photo of a glistening caramel flan, Grant came in—sweaty, tired, and surrounded by the smoky smell of charcoal. For some reason, seeing him all worn out from presiding over the grill and stove made Rory’s nerves tingle. She was accustomed to him serving food and pouring drinks, but discovering how immersed he got in his first love of cooking was pretty damned sexy.
“Chocolate cake.” He set a box on the counter, then pulled off his bandana and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “You doing okay?”
“Now that there’s cake, of course.” She nibbled the head off a cherry gummy worm. “Your mom texted me that they had a nice dinner at Field & Farm over in Rainwood, and she wants to go shopping tomorrow morning.” She hesitated. “Also, she says your dad isn’t interested in shopping, so he wants to go fishing with you.”
“Hah.” Grant started toward the bathroom. “She wants him to want to go fishing with me.”
He closed the bathroom door, and a second later the shower started. Rory set two mugs on the counter and added spoonfuls of instant coffee. The water was boiling by the time Grant emerged in navy pajama pants and a T-shirt that clung to the still-damp parts of his torso.
“I could’ve brought over some coffee from the tavern.” He accepted the cup Rory held out to him with a nod of thanks. Now he smelled like soap and shampoo, and she tingled all over again.
“Making instant is more fun.” She sipped the coffee. “It’s like camping.”
A smile twitched his mouth. “She’s a piece of work, huh?”
“Yeah, but I like her.” Rory rubbed her thumb over the handle of her mug. “When I first met your parents at the wedding dinner, your father seemed to be especially upset because the rift between you was hurting your mother.”
“He thinks I’m hurting my mother.” Grant leaned back against the counter, his shoulders tightening. “Maybe I am. He’s always been angry that I didn’t marry Vivian, even though my mother orchestrated the whole thing. She wanted me to stay in San Francisco, marry Vivian, and work for Intellix. Obviously I didn’t do any of those things, and there was no compromise. Neither of them understood why I’d choose a different life. So, yeah. My father blames me for my mother’s unhappiness, and he won’t let me forget it.”
“He also doesn’t see that by hurting you, he’s hurting her.”
Grant stared at his mug. “There’s a lot he doesn’t see.”
“To be fair, there’s a lot you don’t let people see.”
He shrugged and met her gaze. His eyes were so green, shot through with gold. Sunlight in a forest.
“You’re not exactly an open book either.” He lifted his mug to his lips.
“Is this about me singing karaoke in my underwear?”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Could be. It could also be about why you’ve stayed in Bliss Cove for two years and why you’re not thrilled about your job with Digicore.”
Rory’s heart stuttered. Breaking eye contact, she paced to the sofa. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You tell me.” He studied her, his gaze hooded. “It’s pretty clear, to me at least, that Digicore may be a job you need, but it’s not necessarily one you want.”
Unease and something else tangled in Rory’s belly—a combination of appreciation and wariness that Grant, of all people, understood what she hadn’t even been able to fully articulate to herself.
“Need, want, it doesn’t really matter.” She sank onto the sofa and dragged her hands through her hair. “I’m taking the job. The pay and benefits are fantastic, and the work itself looks challenging enough to hold my interest. There’s a chance I’ll get to lead my own projects. Plenty of room for advancement.”
“So why aren’t you more excited about it?”
What business is it of yours?
She stopped the sharp retort. She’d learned a lot about Grant’s inner life in the past few days—seen more than she’d seen in two years—and their intimacy was increasing exponentially. There was no reason she couldn’t give him the truth. It wouldn’t change the facts or her plans.
“Because I’ve dealt with a lot of shit as a woman in the tech industry, and I don’t want to put up with it again.” She leaned forward and turned off her laptop to give herself something to do. “But I also hate letting them push me out, and I love the work, so…I have to figure out a way to deal with it. Again.”
Grant frowned. “Sexual harassment and discrimination? I’ve heard plenty of stories. All reprehensible.”
“I knew about it going in, and it’s no big secret.” Rory rubbed her temples against a growing tension. “I’ve always been the only woman in the room, and when you pair that with a non-inclusive culture and a lot of men…not all of them, of course, but plenty…who use sex as power, you’re stuck in a toxic atmosphere. I filed a lot of complaints to no avail, especially if the fucker who put his hand on my ass or invited me to a strip club was a stellar performer whom the company didn’t want to penalize. I learned quickly that if I wanted to stay in the industry, I had to develop an armor as thick as steel. So I did. I ignored sexist comments, didn’t let anyone get close to me, and worked as hard as I could even when I was passed over for projects I deserved.”
“Hell, Rory. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “I did have jobs where I was treated well, and I worked on some incredible systems. A lot of the guys were good people…or at least, not total scumbags. And for what it’s worth, I know that Intellix is one of the few companies making a conscious effort to right the balance by hiring and promoting women who’ve made great contributions to the industry. But several of the places where I’ve worked haven’t done that.
“I did make good money, though, so after I left a job because my boss made no secret of wanting to have sex with me, I took some time to pursue my own project. I’d had an idea about designing a system for integrating medical software. I called it MedCure. After working on it for about a year, I decided to seek funding. I approached a venture capitalist who requested a meeting and a presentation. Turned out he wasn’t interested in the system.”
Grant’s jaw tightened. “What happened?”
“You can guess.” Rory sighed, battling back old, raw anger and hurt. “He propositioned me, I rejected him, and he got mad. Not only did he turn down my idea, he blackballed me to other VC firms and blocked other potential funding opportunities.”
Grant pushed away from the counter, his shoulders stiff. “And he got away with that?”
“I had a record, so to speak, for filing complaints and being labeled a troublemaker, so, honestly, it wasn’t the first time someone had undercut me. That didn’t make it suck any less…obviously, it was worse because I’d been trying to strike out on my own…but that kind of shit happens all the time. I can’t say I was surprised. Disgusted, furious, disheartened, sad…but not surprised.”
“Rory, that’s sickening.” Grant flexed his hands, anger burning in his eyes. “It’s evil, what that asshole did to you. He can’t get away with this.”
“It’s too late, and I’m over it now.” She rubbed her chest, where grief still coiled tightly. “My father died not long after it happened, and that was an infinitely worse blow. But in some ways, his death put the whole mess in the past where it belongs.”
Living in Bliss Cove again, close to her mother and sisters and surrounded by everything familiar, had been exactly the balm she needed to soothe all her blistering pain.
“What happened to MedCure?” Grant asked.
“Another company came out with a similar system that took off commercially, so I missed the mark. It was bad timing and worse circumstances.”
“And having to go back into that hellhole…is that why you were so angry when you came into the Mousehole last week wanting a scotch?”
“Sort of.” Rory leaned her elbows on her knees and sighed. “I wasn’t all that thrilled about returning to the corporate world to begin with. Then I got a sexist come-on message from
a guy I’ll be working with, which made it worse. I’ll deal with it again, and I’ll file complaints and take a stand, but I wish I didn’t have to.
“I haven’t been able to tell anyone because my mother and sisters are all being so supportive about the job. In fact, my mom has been gently telling me for at least six months that it’s time for me to move on. She’s right. I’ve just been too much of a coward to take the step until now.”
“You’re not a coward.” Grant crouched beside her, and the darkness in his eyes seared right into her heart. “Cowards don’t go back into the battle.”
Her throat constricted. “I want so badly to get back to the work, to find out what else I can do, to make my ideas come to life, but I’m scared, too. Of losing. Of being considered less. Of doubting myself.”
“Being scared and still going forward makes you the bravest person I know.” He put his hand over her wrist and squeezed. “Cowards run away and hide. Sometimes in Mouseholes.”
“You’re not a coward either, Grant.” Rory turned her hand so their palms touched. “You stood up for what you want, and now you have the life you chose and created. There’s nothing stronger than living an authentic life.” She wiped away a stray tear. “I might’ve gotten that from Oprah.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “Maybe we’re both braver than we think.”
She looked down at their loosely clasped hands. The calluses on his palm rubbed against hers. He had beautiful hands—long fingers with square, blunt nails and a dusting of dark hair on the back. There was a slight nick on his thumb.
She wanted his hands on her body.
Her heartbeat increased. She lifted her gaze to his, wondering if he could read the desire that had been brewing inside her for so long that she didn’t even know when it had started. Maybe the moment he first pushed the button on the singing fish to make her smile.
A shutter descended over his expression. Tugging his hand from hers, he started to rise. “I’ll get you a fork for the cake.”
Rory closed her hand around his wrist. “I don’t want the cake. Well. Not right now.”
He hesitated, his shoulders tensing. She sensed him waging an internal war, as if he wanted to be on one side but needed to be on the other. Beneath her fingertips, his pulse beat heavily.
“Speaking of cowardly…” He paused and swallowed. “This isn’t fair to you. I should never have asked you to lie for me. I’ll tell my parents the truth tomorrow.”
“And make things worse? What if they never forgive you?”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Grant, if you tell them the truth, then they’ll certainly never come back to Bliss Cove again. At least now, you’re moving in the right direction.”
“With a lie.” His mouth twisted. “A date is one thing, but I never intended for us to have a fake relationship.”
“Then let’s make it real.”
His gaze crashed into hers so powerfully that her whole body surged with awareness. He took hold of her other hand and tugged her to her feet, his expression unreadable. A muscle ticked in his jaw. Standing, he was so much bigger than she was that her belly twisted with anxiety.
Hooking up with Grant the Tavern Owner was one thing. Hooking up with big, strong, sexy Grant the Hunk whose kisses made her toes curl was something else entirely.
No, wait. Those two men were one and the same. It had just taken her a long time to figure that out.
Rory pulled in a breath, her anxiety heightening at the thought that she’d just ruined things between them for good. “I meant—”
“I know what you meant.” He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. Heat flickered in his eyes. “Do you know why I’ve never crossed that line with you before?”
She shook her head. A tremble ran through her blood.
“Because I’m not interested in long-term, or even short-term commitment. I don’t want or need a relationship. The women I’ve been with understand that, though I’ve had a few tell me they wanted to change my mind. They failed.”
He touched the hollow of her throat. “But whenever I’ve thought about it, when I’ve imagined the only woman in the world who could change my mind…you’re the one I see.”
For the first time in her life, Rory went weak in the knees. Pleasure swirled through her. She grabbed hold of Grant’s T-shirt to steady herself.
He slipped his arms around her waist, pulling their lower bodies together. The hard ridge of his erection pressed against her belly. A rippling shock of arousal jolted her.
“Does…” She flicked her tongue out to lick her dry lips. “Does that mean you’re going to cross the line now?”
He searched her face, his green eyes penetrating. “Only if you say yes.”
“I think you’ve always been my yes.”
He smiled. He moved his hands to the sides of her neck and lowered his head to kiss her. Bliss exploded through her along with another emotion…relief, as if a tight constraint had finally snapped, releasing them both.
He tilted her head, probing her mouth gently with his tongue. She curled her hands against his sides as he pressed one hand to her lower back and molded her body to his.
God. He was such a man—all hard muscles and tense physicality. While Rory had no doubt that Grant was capable of losing control, she sensed his self-restraint as if it were tangible. Not for anything would he push her too far. He wouldn’t even go close to the edge unless she gave him her full consent.
“Yes.” She drove one hand into his hair, tightening her fingers into the thick strands. She was starting to burn. “Yes.”
Together, they moved toward the bed. He stopped just short of lowering her onto it to unzip her gray hoodie, which just so happened to be the only thing she was wearing. His eyes darkened as he slowly revealed her bare breasts. His hot gaze raking over her skin was enough to make Rory bite her lip on a moan.
“You are so damned beautiful.” He lowered her onto the bed, easing his body between her legs as he planted both hands on either side of her head and kissed her again.
Rory squirmed. Hot currents of electricity streamed from the touch of his mouth all the way down to her toes. He spread his hand over her torso and into her pants. A low murmur of approval escaped him when he discovered she wasn’t wearing any panties.
She couldn’t speak past the heat rising to her throat. Her heart hammered as he slipped her pants off, and then she was naked while he was still fully clothed. Not that his pajama pants did a thing to hide his own considerable arousal. She reached for him.
“Wait.” He closed his hand around her wrist. “I don’t have a condom.”
“It’s okay. I’m protected, and…” A flush rose to her cheeks. “It’s been a while.”
He brushed his mouth against hers. “For me, too.”
His admission dissolved any lingering questions, leaving her in no doubt that they had been converging toward this moment together. She gestured to his clothes. “Your turn.”
He shucked off his shirt and dropped it to the floor, then moved away and stepped out of his pants. Rory’s mouth went dry at the sight of his body, which was more gorgeous and powerful than she could have imagined. His sculpted pecs sloped down to a washboard abdomen whose ridges she wanted to trace with her tongue.
He put one knee on the bed. Their gazes met, hot and charged. Rory grabbed his forearms and pulled him on top of her, wrapping her legs around his thighs in a full-body yes.
His eyes blazed. She opened for him, so ready she ached. But he appeared to be in no hurry, as he skimmed his lips over her shoulder and lower to her breasts.
A hot thread of tension uncoiled inside her. Never before had a man made love to her with such thorough attention, as if her pleasure overshadowed his. She rose to her elbows as he kissed and stroked his way down her body, every inch of contact eliciting sparks of arousal.
Had she even known she was capable of this kind of physical response? Or maybe it was him—the way he sensed exactly where she liked
to be touched, the control winding through his strong body, his low murmurs vibrating against her skin. Every part of her felt alive, sensitized to his callused touch and the press of his beautiful mouth.
Finally, she reached down to twist her fingers into his hair. “Grant, please.”
Positioning himself between her legs, he locked his gaze to hers. Sweat trickled down his temple. He eased inside her. Rory gasped. Fire shot across her nerves. A groan shook his chest, the deep echo vibrating through her.
Curling her fingers into his biceps, she arched her hips just as he thrust forward. She paused, dragging a breath into her burning lungs, letting him set the pace of their union.
Then they were rocking forward and back together, a slow gentle rhythm increasing in speed as their urgency grew. She drove her hands into his hair as he brought his mouth down on hers again, his kiss hot and greedy.
Her need mounted in agonizingly delicious increments until she couldn’t contain it any longer. Murmuring sexy words of encouragement, Grant slipped his hand between their bodies and stimulated her to completion. She bucked up against him and dug her fingers into his arms. A cry of pleasure tore from her throat as sensations consumed her.
Like the anchor he was, he steadied her and let her cling to him as she rose and fell through the wave. Only when her pleasure began to ebb did he loosen the reins of his control. He sank deep inside her with a rough shout, his muscles locking and tensing beautifully as he surrendered to his own release.
He rolled beside her on the bed, his chest heaving. Rory fell back against the pillows and struggled to catch her breath. Though her body still trembled with lingering sensations, an incredible lightness filled her, as if she were made of fine-spun cotton candy.
She turned her head to find Grant watching her, a flush cresting his cheekbones and his skin damp with sweat. A hint of wariness darkened his eyes.
Rory brought her hand up to touch his stubbly face. She traced the hard line of his jaw, rubbed his nose, ran her finger over his beautifully shaped mouth.
“Do you want to know why I love computer programming?” she asked.