For some reason, considering the changing of his eye color made her stomach flutter. He has beautiful eyes. There’s no harm in admiring them.
Grant had been the proverbial bad boy throughout high school. His popularity as starter on the football team, and his good looks, had made him the coveted prize for every girl who wanted a go with one of the cute jocks.
Every girl at their school had a crush on him, and more than one was envious that Samantha was his friend, even though she and Grant hadn’t even so much as kissed. After a while it became known that she was his best friend – platonic friend, that is – and several girls befriended her for the sole reason to get near to him.
They wouldn’t have had to bother, because Grant had never discriminated and had eagerly taken every girl who’d offered herself. He’d have sex with her once and then rush on to the next one.
Samantha had never minded his ever-revolving bedroom door. While she’d been in love with him since the age of six, she was way too young to even think of having sex. What she had with him was special. Better than sharing his bed. He was her soulmate.
But she had teased frequently about his willingness to date anything in a skirt. It wasn’t meant in a jealous way, and at the time, she’d been dead-on in her assessment. Grant had loved the attention he got from the girls at school and saw no reason not to take advantage of it.
She looked at him now. He was hot. Pure sex. A searing pain stabbed through her heart at the thought of another woman sharing his bed. Something had definitely changed.
They reached his truck and he swung her suitcase with one easy movement into the back of his pickup, exposing more of his tattoo. Samantha hissed. How much hotter can that man look?
Her suitcase settled between the jumbled mess of tools, cables, and other stuff she didn’t even try to identify. When he came back around to the passenger side, intent on opening her door for her, she balked.
She tried to protest. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m opening your door.”
“You don’t need to do that,” she insisted, reaching for the door handle herself.
But Grant wasn’t having any of that. He pushed her hand away and then pinned her with the stare of his gorgeous eyes that now showed annoyance. “Sam, if you want to ride in my truck, you have to accept that I’m going to treat you like the lady you are.”
When it was put that way, she didn’t even try to protest again. She inclined her head towards him, waiting while he opened the door and then held her elbow while she stepped up into the cab of the vehicle.
“Thank you, kind sir.” She grinned at him as he shut the door. Coming here was a good idea. Grant is exactly what I need to be happy again.
He climbed into the other side and asked her, “Care to tell me what happened?”
She flinched. “Today I…” Her voice broke and she had to pause a few moments. Don’t cry. She turned toward him and the concern in his eyes swept over her. “Can we talk about that later, please?”
His eyes turned even darker with worry, but he nodded. “Sure.”
After several moments of silence, he asked, “Where will you stay if your family is not supposed to know you’re here?”
That question had her pausing. Gosh, I didn’t even think about that! Way to go, Sam. In your rush to get away from the debris field of your former life, you forgot to plan for the future.
“Uhh…ahh…I…haven’t thought about that
“Sounds like you, first acting and then thinking.”
She boxed him in his biceps, but he shrugged her off and laughed.
Before she realized it, she blurted out, “Can’t I crash at your place for a while?”
Samantha covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes going wide as she heard the words leave her mouth. Great! Now I’ve put him in a bad position.
Grant was the kind of guy who almost always had a woman for his bedroom, and it would prove very awkward if Samantha was sleeping on his couch. Way to go, Sam! You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t stick you right back on the plane!
Chapter 4
Grant looked at his passenger as he started up the engine, unsure if he’d heard right. Did she just ask to stay with me? When he saw the shocked look on her face and the blush staining her cheeks, he hid his smile. Yep. She asked to stay at my place. Same old Sammie. Never thinks before she speaks.
“Sure. You can have the guest room,” he answered, only to regret it the next moment. Now what have I done? It’s bad enough I can’t take my eyes off her, but now I had to agree to let her room with me? I am in so much trouble.
He almost wanted to take his answer back, but the look in her eyes stopped him. Her blue eyes brimmed with relief and gratefulness – a stark contrast to the devastation he’d heard in her voice a few hours earlier. How could he resist doing whatever was necessary to make her happy?
“So what will your current catch of the day say?”
“I’ll kick her out.”
Sam made a shocked face, and he added, “Just joking, there’s no woman in my life.”
“No woman? You sure you’re all right?”
He flashed her a smile and nodded. Maybe I wasn’t, but now I am.
Grant drove to his place in silence, giving her the space she needed and trying to figure out how to handle things once they reached his apartment. It was a two-bedroom model with an open-concept kitchen that flowed into the living room, a bar and several bar stools separating the two spaces.
He unlocked the door, insisting on carrying her suitcase for her, and allowed her to precede him into his home.
She wandered around the space, checking out the bedrooms and the bathroom before returning to the living area. He still lived in the same apartment he’d been living in when she’d left town, so he was slightly puzzled at the inspection. He raised an eyebrow at her in silent question when she looked at him.
“Sorry, just checking things out to see what you’ve changed.”
“Not much.”
“I can see that. It suits you. The whole place is so cool. It fits your personality.”
Grant shook his head at her and headed towards the kitchen sink, drawing two glasses of cool water before returning to see her reclining on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. Something she’d done since she was a little girl, it was her way of showing she felt comfortable and safe.
He handed her one of the glasses and then sat down next to her, sipping from his own glass before her shoes captured his attention. “I have no idea how you can walk in those shoes.”
Samantha looked at the four-inch heels she walked in as if they were tennis shoes and then back to his face. “It kind of goes with the territory. My job is to look pretty, and that includes wearing shoes like these. I don’t even notice the heels anymore.”
But he did. With those killer heels, her long and slender legs seemed endless, and his hands itched to move up and down their whole length.
She reached down to her turquoise heels; they had ankle straps, and black and white scroll marks across the heel and toe portions of the shoes. The color matched the turquoise blouse she wore over white boyfriend jeans, rolled up to end a few inches above her ankles. Her very sexy ankles. She slid off first one and then the other shoe, dropping them to the floor beside the couch before pulling one of her feet into her lap and rubbing the arch and the base of her toes.
“But you’re right, they make my feet hurt if I wear them all day, or walk long distances.”
“Glad I’m not a model.” Grant reached over and pulled her foot onto his thigh, using his thumbs to relax the muscles in her foot.
When he hit a ticklish spot, she pulled that foot away and then offered him the other one with a mewing sound.
“You’re spoiled,” he told her, fighting the desire that rose in his body, just by touching her feet. Hell, since when was a foot massage an erotic turn-on?
Samantha giggled.
“What’s so fu
nny?”
“I envisioned you wearing a pair of high heels, and I reckon it’s the rest of the world that should be glad you’re not a model.”
Grant furrowed his eyebrows. “You think I wouldn’t be able to walk around in those things?”
“Oh, I’m sure you would manage it. But it wouldn’t be pretty.” Samantha barely finished her sentence, because she couldn’t control her burst of laughter.
I want to hear that happy sound all day long. If it means I have to walk around in high heels to amuse her, so be it.
“Mhhmmm…Grant, that is so good.”
Her moan sent heat waves through his body right into his groin. He’d be in for some cold showers if she stayed at his place. Damn it. Why did he have to be so attracted to her? She was his best friend. And she deserved better than an ordinary man like him.
She pulled her other foot away and tucked them both beneath her on the couch, leaning against him.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he asked, “How long are you planning to stay?”
She looked at him. “I don’t know yet. Do you already want to get rid of me?”
“Not at all, it’s just that I was planning to go to the beach tomorrow for a few days.”
Samantha bounced up from the couch, jumping up and down as she re-settled on her knees beside him. “Does your family still own that cute little place up at Sandy Beach?”
He grinned at her enthusiasm. “Yes, but now I have my own place up there.”
“Since when?” Then she punched him and continued, “How could you not have told me?”
Yes, how could he? It had been a dream they had shared for a long time: to have their own house at the beach, far away from any nagging siblings.
Between her six brothers and his three brothers and two sisters, solitude had been in short supply while growing up, and both he and Samantha had longed for a place to retreat to. Not all of the time, but once in a while when their families became too much to handle.
They had jokingly promised each other it would be a “sibling-free zone” – no brothers or sisters dropping in whenever they wanted. On the rare occasions when one of their siblings would be allowed to visit, they had to be nice and bring gifts. No gift – no entrance!
He recalled how they had planned out exactly how they wanted the house to look. They had talked hours and hours about the different rooms, the furniture, the garden, the porch, everything, until it had become almost real to them.
When he’d gone hunting for a house outside Sandy Beach last year, those memories had been uppermost in his mind. And after a few months he’d found the perfect place – a small house that looked almost exactly like the one he and Samantha had always dreamt about. I fell in love the moment I saw it, just like I fell in love with her.
“I purchased it two weeks ago. In fact, tomorrow is the first time I’ll spend the night there.”
She leaned into him, bracing her hands on his chest. “Can I come with you, please?”
The familiar gesture she’d made a thousand times had a new sensation to it, and he could feel his manhood stirring. Don’t go there, man. She never gave you reason to believe your’re anything but best friends.
Despite the warning voice in his head, he nodded. “Sure you can. It’s in pretty bad shape, though. The place is basically a ruin.”
“Hey, do I look like a spoiled brat who needs to be pampered and can’t stay in a rundown place?”
Grant perused her and grinned. “Actually you do, sweetie. You look like a spoiled, high-maintenance supermodel in that outfit of yours.”
“That’s what people believe, but the real me can help you with the repairs at the house.”
Now it was Grant who burst out in laughter. “I vaguely remember the last time you tried to use a power drill. It didn’t end so well.”
“I was seven! How can you still hold that against me?
Her feigned indignation made her even more beautiful. In contrast to him, she hated doing repair work and they both knew it.
He watched her hide a yawn behind a hand. “You’re tired.”
“Yep. Do you mind if I turn in?”
“Nah. Go ahead. I’ll make a list of what we need to pick up on our way out of town tomorrow. Get some sleep.”
“Thanks…” Samantha started to say more, but then she shook her head. “Just thanks.”
Grant watched her walk down the hallway towards the guest room and sighed. She still hadn’t told him what had happened back in New York. She must be in serious trouble.
He grabbed a couple of duffle bags and packed some of the gear they would need to take with them tomorrow. Once that was done, he grabbed pen and paper and scribbled down a shopping list. It took much longer than it should have, because his thoughts continually cycled back to the gorgeous woman sleeping down the hall.
What horrible thing could have happened between her and Craig that had not only ruined their relation, but also her career? He knew from experience it didn’t do any good to push her for an answer. She’d tell him when she was ready.
Grant’s mind jumped back a few years to when she’d surprised everyone but him with her announcement to become a top model in New York City. Her overprotective brothers had attempted to command her to stay in Chicago, their actions setting off her legendary temper in spades. They didn’t give her the nickname Firecracker for nothing.
He’d been the one she had confided in. Since her early teenage years, her dream was to become a model. She was always poring over the fashion magazines, and had more than once spoken of needing to be in New York if she ever wanted a shot at her dream and the chance to get her big break.
He’d outright hated the idea of her stepping into the lion’s den, trying to make it in the fashion world. But he was her friend, and he’d supported her no matter how it made him feel. Pursuing a modeling career was so important to her, and her happiness meant more to him than his own.
But on the day she left, it was as if she’d ripped out his heart and taken it with her. It had hurt like hell. He had fallen back into his usual way of life. Though not a football player anymore, his good looks still attracted plenty of beautiful women eager to share his bed. He’d played the field like a pro, allowing himself to enjoy being single and free.
The news of Samantha’s hooking up with Craig had sent a bullet through his heart. Still, he’d made an effort to like the man, but to no avail. At first he thought he was just jealous, which he was, but the more he heard about Craig’s behavior the more he hated him for not treating her the way she deserved.
Grant had busied himself with lots of work and had evaded Samantha as much as possible. I didn’t want to see her with another man. Much less if he makes her suffer.
He’d drowned his emotions in a never-ending stream of love affairs, but each escapade left him emptier than the one before. So he’d stopped dating altogether about a year ago. He wanted Samantha – nobody but her.
I love her.
Chapter 5
Morning came and Samantha lay in the bed, well rested for the first time in…she couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up in the morning relaxed and happy.
Normally she woke up, dragged herself out of bed, had a few cups of coffee, and then hauled herself to whatever shoot was on the schedule for the day.
She stretched her arms above her head and then rolled over onto her side, enjoying the feeling of being rested and not having anywhere to be right now. Her mind drifted, appreciating the texture of the sheets on her skin, and the sun peeking through the curtains. It will be a beautiful day. With Grant.
Even more amazing was that she almost had forgotten why she’d fled to Chicago in the first place. But the scene that had probably ended her career reared its ugly head, and she groaned as she replayed it in her mind.
She had been the top contender as the new fashion model for Silueta – a very coveted position that most models would kill for. And what did Samantha do with the position? She accus
ed the marketing director of being a lying, dishonest slime bag. In public. With lots of people looking on and listening to her completely lose her temper. God, when am I going to learn to control that part of me?
She groaned and rolled over in the bed, burying her heated cheeks in the pillow as she remembered the scene, one frame at a time. She had been furious and…
“You don’t have to think about that right now,” she audibly lectured herself. “You came here to get away from the situation and try to find happiness in your life once again. At least for a little while.”
She scooted over in the bed, feeling better after her little pep talk. She continued to push New York to the back of her mind, as she mentally got ready for the day. I’ll pretend everything is fine and enjoy the beach. When was the last time I went to Sandy Beach? I wonder what has changed?
When they were kids, they had spent all their summers at Sandy Beach. Grant’s parents owned a beach house up there, and her parents had always rented a villa nearby.
The Armstrong and Paxton kids had been inseparable growing up. They’d lived in the same neighborhood in Chicago, and spent the summers together in Sandy Beach.
She remembered the summers at the beach as some of the best memories from her childhood. Fun and lazy days in the sand without the confines of school and household chores. Long hours in and out of the water. Chasing each other in the surf. Building sand castles only to have them knocked over. Alliances made and broken as their siblings had taken sides; sometimes with their own family, and other times aligning themselves with the others based upon age.
The Paxtons had permanently moved from Chicago to Sandy Beach, ten years earlier, taking their three youngest children with them. Grant had been eighteen at the time and had stayed with his two older brothers in Chicago while he attended college.
She wondered if she’d have the chance to meet Grant’s parents and some of his siblings during her stay in Sandy Beach. She hadn’t seen any of them since she’d moved to New York and it would be a nice reunion.
A wave of sadness swamped her. I wish there was a way to go back to that innocence once again. To recapture the happiness of my childhood and the simple life.
Explosion of Love (The Armstrongs Book 6) Page 2