by Jerry Cole
“I haven’t proposed marriage to anyone,” Grant protested, even as he knew what Seb was really trying to get at. After a long pause, with Seb’s sigh audible in his ear, Grant closed his eyes, rubbing at his temple. “I really like this one.”
Seb blew out a breath and there was a rustle on the end of the line. “Dammit, Grant, you never do things by halves do ya?”
Grant huffed out a self-deprecating laugh. “Where would be the fun in that?”
“Nowhere,” Seb said dryly. Then, softer, he said, “So he has a kid?”
“A girl,” Grant said immediately. “She’s named Morgan and she’s great. Intelligent for her age.”
“Which is?”
“Not actually sure,” Grant said honestly. “Sometimes I think five, other times I think she’s probably seven. Hard to tell and you never ask a lady her age.”
Seb laughed, cursing Grant under his breath. “Why am I friends with you, asshole?”
“Beats me,” Grant said upbeat, though sometimes he wondered that himself. He was actually a mess, as evidenced by this situation with Robert, but he tried to be the best kind of guy he could. “I’ll back off.”
“Good,” Seb said decisively. “If he wants you, he’ll come to you. And if he doesn’t by the time you want to leave, you can have one of those romcom moments everyone always dreams about.”
Everyone but Seb, Grant wisely didn’t say. Seb couldn’t care less about his love life, always telling everyone that it would happen when it happened. If it didn’t, he had always seemed content to have friends, otherwise Grant might have been more worried about it. As it was, Seb was happy – most of the time – and Grant and Matt had more than enough relationship drama for him, or so he said.
“Thanks for your helpful advice as always, I knew I could–”
Before Grant could finish up the call, there was a bang on his door. “Grant!”
There was a pause on the end of the line. “Is that her?”
“Yes,” Grant said. “Give me a sec.” Pulling the phone away from his ear, he stood up from the bed and crossed the room. “Who is it?”
“Grant,” Morgan whined, so he tugged open the door. “See? It’s me!”
“So it is,” Grant said, amused. “I’m just on the phone, Morgan. Is there something you need?”
Morgan looked at the phone in his hand. “Oh, sorry,” she said, immediately bashful. “I have to go to school today.”
Grant’s eyes widened. Was it Monday already? “Oh. Well I hope you have a good day?”
“Yes,” Morgan said, nodding. She regarded Grant thoughtfully. “You will make sure Daddy doesn’t work too hard, won’t you?”
Grant wasn’t sure that was possible, and besides, he did have some semblance of work to do, even if he wasn’t sure what that actually was anymore. “Of course I will,” he found himself saying anyway.
“Thank you, Grant,” Morgan said, giving him a quick hug and then running away down the hall.
Grant stared after her, and only realized Seb was still on the phone when he heard him yelling his name. “Sorry.”
Seb was laughing, he realized. “Geez, you really are whipped already, Grant. God, she sounded ridiculously cute.”
“She is,” Grant said, leaning against the wall. “I didn’t even realize she went to school.”
“Definitely older than five,” Seb informed him primly. “You’re screwed.”
“Tell me about it.” Grant closed his eyes, rubbing at his face.
Seb was silent for a long while, and when he finally spoke, his voice was as serious as Grant had heard it. “I need you to be sure about what you’re doing, Grant. If there’s a kid involved, and a cute one at that, you break her dad’s heart, then you’re breaking hers too.”
Grant blew out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Fuck, I know that. It’s a mess, I’m not pretending it’s not. I just… don’t know what to do here, Seb.”
“Trust yourself, Grant. If there’s anyone that can figure out what’s going on here, it’s you. When,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “You take the time to think it through first.”
It was a warning, and Grant knew better than to dismiss it. “All right. I hear ya.”
“Good,” Seb said, sounding more upbeat—or as upbeat as Seb ever sounded anyway. “Now get the hell out of there and go check on the girl’s dad. He needs you.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Grant said good-naturedly, and hung up to the sound of Seb’s laughter. Grant needed new friends.
Chapter Eight
“How weird is it being by yourself?” Grant asked.
Robert was leaning against the desk, going through the ledger. Grant didn’t know what he was looking for; from the blank pages he kept going through, it had been some time since anyone had stayed here. Natasha was right and Grant’s chest constricted painfully about what that meant for Robert.
“It’s all right,” Robert said, distracted. “It means I can clean the rooms in peace, and I don’t have to hire anybody to do it.”
“That’s always a good thing,” Grant said, knowing that he sounded like an idiot, but unable to stop himself.
Robert snorted, amused, and turned back to the ledger.
“Did you wanna go down to the harbor or something?” Grant asked, feeling less like an idiot every time, he actually found the courage to say something.
“Actually,” Robert said, shutting the ledger and shoving it under the desk. “There’s a part of the bay you haven’t seen yet. It’s a private thing,” he said hurriedly, as if afraid Grant was going to say no. “It’s not boring.”
“Relax,” Grant said, trying not to laugh. They were both treading carefully, and it was obvious. “Of course I’ll go with you.”
“Awesome,” Robert said, almost under his breath. “I’ll just grab my keys and lock up?”
Grant didn’t bother asking if Robert was sure, if he wanted to stay open just in case, and though he felt guilty for being the cause of Robert possibly losing business, he didn’t say anything when Robert started ushering him out of the B&B.
The walk down to the bay was mostly quiet, though Robert didn’t look uncomfortable. He easily kept pace with Grant and greeted people warmly that recognized him. Grant wondered what it would be like to have everyone in a town know who he was. Chicago was just too big, the idea ludicrous, and even back home there’d been too many people for it to be viable. Living in a small town would suit him, he thought, and he could easily get used to it.
That was, however, a long way down the line. He wasn’t even sure how he was coping right now, mooning as he was over Robert. If Seb could see him right then, he would laugh in his face and Grant wasn’t sure he didn’t deserve it.
“What are you thinking about?”
“My friends,” Grant admitted. “One of them called earlier and I think he suspected I would have come home already.”
Robert looked surprised. “So soon? You’ve only been here a couple of days.”
“I know,” Grant said with a laugh. “It’s like they think I don’t have the willpower to stick out my decision.”
“How long have you known them?”
Grant slipped his hands into his pockets as Robert navigated them onto a small, worn path that led down through the rocks. “Seb and I grew up together. We met Matt in college and the three of us rented an apartment in Chicago’s Lincoln Park. I don’t know if you know it?”
“No,” Robert said without hesitation. He looked truthful, so Grant didn’t doubt him. “What’s it like?”
“Nice,” Grant said, for lack of a better term. “A lot of students. I loved the museum though.”
At Robert’s intrigued look, Grant launched into an explanation of Chicago’s history, and blushed as he realized just what he must sound like. “Not that I’m a Chicagoan or anything. I just think history is neat.”
“Neat,” Robert repeated. He was grinning, something soft in his eyes, and Grant’s heart did a double beat
. “God, Grant, just when I think you can’t be any more of a dork.”
“Hey,” Grant said, pretending to be outraged “I’m not a dork!”
“Uh-huh.”
They pushed through the underbrush and Grant’s breath caught in his throat at the view. It was a small cove, hidden from the main harbor, with water lapping gently at the shore. It was a rocky beach, not much sand closer to the shoreline, though there was ample close to the bushes. Grant could see why Robert would bring Morgan here – at least, he was assuming he wasn’t the first person Robert had shown this too.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Peaceful,” Robert agreed. “Unlike most people my age, who would probably enjoy a faster and more fulfilling lifestyle, I kinda love the peace and quiet. When I can get it,” he added with a rueful smile.
It was a fair point; Morgan was not a child who appreciated more peace and quiet than she was forced to take. “I doubt you regret it.”
“Not a chance,” Robert said immediately. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
There was such honesty in the statement that Grant found himself silent at the emotion. Robert didn’t look ashamed, just stepped up to the shoreline still in his shoes. Grant joined him, not caring that his shoes were gonna get soaked. They should both have taken them off, but you only live once; no point getting worried or upset about it.
“Thanks for bringing me here.” Grant pulled his hands from his pockets. He could still hear some sounds from the harbor, but they were muffled by the enclosed rockface and the underbrush. “How did you find this place?”
Robert let out a soft laugh. “Morgan ran off once day, just after I first arrived. I was freaking out,” Robert cut himself off, a flicker of emotion crossing his face, too fast for Grant to pinpoint. Eventually, he smiled, meeting Grant’s eyes. “I found her, obviously. She was down here, playing in the sound as if she hadn’t done anything wrong.”
Grant doubted that Robert had punished her in any way. Not that Robert was a soft touch, but he did have some weakness where his daughter was concerned, as nearly every father did. “Then I’m even more grateful you shared it with me.”
“You’re welcome.” Robert’s eyes were brighter down here, Grant thought. That, or he really was becoming one of those women in a romcom drama. God, he needed to get it together.
“Why a B&B?” Grant asked.
Robert considered the question, starting to walk up the shoreline, toward the larger rockface. Grant followed sedately, content in the silence. “The town didn’t have one when I first moved here. They didn’t have the cabins either. Or, they had the cabins,” Robert said. Grant hadn’t thought the cabins looked new, “but they weren’t holidaymakers’ cabins. Virginia, the landlady, was renting them out to fisherman but someone convinced her to turn them into holiday cabins.”
Most people might have been angry or jealous, but Robert didn’t seem to be either. It cemented to Grant the idea that maybe Robert didn’t care too much to retain the only tourists in the area. It was a weird dichotomy, to own a B&B and want guests, and to not do much to draw them in.
“I think I prefer to stay closer to town,” Grant said.
“Fair.” Robert guided them away from the shore and back toward the path. “She also has good advertising.”
Grant conceded the point with a nod, thinking of the signs along the highway, and the banner she had outside her own home. “How do you draw in business for the B&B?”
“What do you mean?” Robert asked, frowning.
“I didn’t see your B&B online.” Grant had looked for something close to the town, but it hadn’t come up when he’d put the place into the search engine. There hadn’t been any advertising in the city, either. If Grant hadn’t been looking explicitly for somewhere near to the bay, he doubted he would have found it. “You’re not exactly busy and I bet there’s a ton of people who would stay at your place if you advertised yourself.”
“I don’t want to,” Robert said immediately, and though it was mostly in anger, Grant could detect fear there too. It wasn’t the first time Grant had seen that expression on Robert’s face, and he wondered just what was wrong. “We do fine.”
“Really,” Grant said dryly. “I’m your only guest, and according to the ledger you were looking at earlier, that’s been the case for a while.”
Robert’s head snapped around so fast it made Grant wince, and the glare he shot Grant was impressive. “It’s none of your business.”
“Robert,” Grant said, wincing on his own behalf. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your business.”
Robert was watching him, and Grant knew that whatever he did now, he had to do it carefully.
“I have some money,” Grant said. Fuck. That wasn’t carefully. “If you need it–”
“Oh, fuck you,” Robert said abruptly, pushing away from Grant. Grant was glad they were almost at the top of the path. Robert’s glare was impressive. “You think I need your charity? Why, because I’m a single father in the middle of nowhere who needs handouts? I can sort my own self out.”
“I know, that, but I—”
“I know you think,” Robert said, an edge to his voice, “that I like you, but you’re dead wrong. You’re nothing to me, Grant. You’re a guy who’s staying in my house and has somehow figured out how to get to me through my daughter!”
“That’s not fair,” Grant said, and he felt as hurt as he sounded.
Robert’s gaze flickered, but his anger was unyielding. “I don’t need your help, and Morgan doesn’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help.”
Something snapped in Grant, and he felt his own anger flare. As if Grant would ever – he snorted. “Really? From where I’m standing, you could use all the help you can get!”
“Fuck off,” Robert snapped. “Get the hell out.”
“Gladly,” Grant said, though he felt a tightness in his chest. “Should I take my bags too and find somewhere else to go?”
“Good idea,” Robert said, chin tilted in defiance.
Grant stormed off, and though his heart was hammering in his chest, he figured he could find somewhere else to stay easily. It would be hard, leaving Morgan, but it was clear Robert didn’t want him. Through Grant’s own stupidity sure – and after Seb’s advice at that – but right now, he just needed to be away from wherever Robert was.
It was awkward, having to wait for Robert to open up so that he could grab his bags, but as soon as the door was open, Grant pushed past him and ran up the stairs, letting his anger stew. When he came downstairs with his bags, Robert was nowhere in sight, so Grant left the key on the desk and scribbled a hasty note. He was sure that it had more swearwords than he used with his mouth, but he didn’t give a fuck. Stalking out of the B&B, he headed for the parking lot. God, he was so stupid. He could have had—no, it wasn’t worth it to think about. There were other places to stay in the town, and even if Grant wished he could just turn and go back to Chicago, he wasn’t ready to call it quits yet. He had chosen to do this for a reason and one fight with Robert wasn’t going to turn him to cowardice.
Dumping his bags in his car, Grant decided it was best not to leave it in Robert’s parking lot, just in case he decided to take his anger out on it. Not that Grant thought he would, but then he hadn’t considered Robert would react like he had either. Shaking his head, Grant slipped into the driver seat, checking his mirrors – and catching sight of Robert at the window to one of the rooms. He couldn’t make out the expression on Robert’s face, but nor did he want to. If Robert wanted him gone, he would go.
There was a parking lot for the cafe at the end of the road, and Grant parked in there. He turned off the ignition and dropped his head onto the wheel, running his hands through his hair. He was not looking forward to telling Seb that not a half hour after his phone call, he had managed to mess things up with Robert by doing the one thing he had told him he wouldn’t.
A knock at the window made h
im jump and he looked up to see Natasha standing outside the door, giving him a strange look. Winding down the window, he gave her a bright smile. “Hey.”
Natasha’s eyebrows rose even further. “What are you doing?”
Grant shrugged. “Sitting in my car?”
“Well,” Natasha said, gesturing behind Grant at his bag on the back seat. “Why aren’t you at the B&B?”
“Robert and I had an argument,” Grant said, scrubbing at his face. “I think I have to find somewhere else to say.”
Natasha cursed under her breath. “Come on, into the cafe. You can buy me a drink and we’ll talk about this.”
“Don’t you work there?”
“Doesn’t mean I get free drinks,” Natasha said, pulling open Grant’s door. He sighed and climbed out. He had spoken to Natasha only once, but she looked stubborn and he didn’t want to challenge her. Not yet, at least.
“Fine,” Grant said, grabbing his wallet. “Are you just starting work?”
“Finishing,” Natasha told him as he locked up the car. “I was on my way home when I saw you wallowing in self-pity.”
“I’m not wallowing,” Grant said immediately. At Natasha’s quelling look he rolled his eyes. “I’m not!”
Natasha still didn’t look convinced as she pushed open the door of the cafe, gesturing for him to precede her in. It was ingrained in Grant by his mother to be the gentleman so for a moment, he almost paused to let her go through first, but Natasha’s glare stopped him.
Grant managed to find a table – it was coming up to lunch hours and was starting to get busy. Some of the guys were harbor folk, though most of them seemed to be either town’s people or tourists. “Maybe I should ask some of these people where they’re staying. I think I’m gonna need somewhere to sleep tonight.”