“The library receipt?”
He nods and we share a light laugh at what that silly slip of paper confessed to him.
Nudging me once again, an impish grin dances across his face. “You grew up nice, Gracie,” he admits, his voice thick with something I can’t exactly place.
Genuine male appreciation? That internal question has me rolling my eyes at myself.
He mistakes the eye roll for me not believing his words and he pulls his knee away from mine. Immediately regretting my self-deprecation, I’m at a loss for a recovery. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” he asks, treading carefully.
“No, it’s just that I’m not that girl.” The rest of what would be my explanation gets stuck in my throat. I want to say I’m not the girl who gets the compliments, who gets the attention of gorgeous men.
Since I don’t clarify what I mean, he shoots me a perplexed look. His shoulders sag and he says, “Then I guess I’ve got the wrong person.”
As he moves to leave, my nerves shoot my mouth into action. Well, a long rant-like string of nonsense that at least keeps him from leaving. “No, that’s not what I mean . . . Ugh, it’s just . . . never mind.”
The loud blare of a passing taxi honking at a bike messenger makes me jump in my seat, but luckily, it breaks the weird spell settling around us. Opting for goofiness, my usual cover for when things get uncomfortable, I stand before him. Extending my hand, I straighten my back and say, with as much formality as I can pull off without laughing my ass off, “I’m Grace McCann. It’s nice to meet you. And your name?” I ask, though I have to chew on my lip to keep the laughter at bay.
“David Andrews.” He pumps my hand, not holding back simply because I’m a girl. The firm grip of his fingers around mine sends tingles across my body. “Funny story,” he jokes, obviously picking up on my intent to make light of the unusual circumstances of our reintroduction. “I used to know a Grace McCann, but I used to call her Gracie. She lived next door to me when I was a kid.”
“You don’t say.” Covering my mouth with my free hand, dramatically, I gasp at the coincidence. This of course forces him to have to stifle his laughter.
“I even rescued her from a fire one night.” Sobered by the tone of his words, I drop my hand from my mouth, but he catches it mid-fall in his other hand. “And then she was gone. Moved away and I never saw her again. Been waiting eighteen years to tell her thank you.”
“Thank you?” The sincerity of his words makes my knees weak. He senses it and eases us both back down to the steps. “It seems like she should be the one doing the thanking.”
“Probably.” He smirks at me. “But without her, I never would have gone into this line of work, so really it’s her I’m grateful for.”
“Oh,” is all I can manage at his admission.
Abruptly, he stands before me. “But since you’re not my Gracie, I guess I’ll be on my way.” He turns his back on me and starts to walk away.
With a trembling in my voice that I wish wasn’t there, I call out, “I am your Gracie.”
When he spins back around, his lips are pulled into a full smile—a smug and beautiful smile. Hanging my head in my hands, I laugh at my little outburst. David laughs with me as he pries my hands away from my face.
“You know, I thought that was you,” he continues to joke and I smack him ruefully on the chest—his rock hard, slab-of-stone chest. As if they’re acting on their own volition, my fingers flex where they’ve settled on his right pec. A force of magnetism must be acting between us because I can’t pull it away—not that I try all that hard.
“Want to come up for some coffee?” I ask, hoping to spend just a little more time with him.
“Coffee?” he arches an eyebrow, as one side of his lips pulls up.
My eyes roll skyward. “Yes, coffee. And no that’s not code for sex.” He chokes on his own laughter as I call his bluff.
Not even bothering to wait for a response, I pull my keys out of my bag and walk in front of him. Walking up the small flight of stairs to the main entryway, I can feel his heat at my back.
When we step into the elevator, I press the button for my floor. His eyes scan the small enclosure, reaching into all four corners before settling on the fire inspection certificate behind the flimsy piece of plastic next to the buttons.
“Needs an inspection soon,” he says absentmindedly.
Clicking my heels together, I mock salute him. With an assured, “Yes, sir,” falling from my mouth, he laughs at me and my goofball reaction to him and his seriousness.
“Come on in.” Standing to his side, I extend my hand into the opened doorway. There’s not much to the apartment, but considering that it’s a two-bedroom apartment in lower Manhattan, it’s not too shabby. Jade and I decided to move here about a year ago. The six mile commute to the school was only a minor inconvenience and since Jade’s parents helped out considerably, I was pretty much along for the ride. Since it was a given that she’d have a job in the financial district, this was the best location for her career.
However, there’s a pile of laundry on one cushion of the couch. On top of which is of course my panties. “Sorry.” I toss everything into the basket on the floor in a rush. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I wasn’t expecting you either.” His softly spoken words stop me in my tracks.
Not wanting any weirdness to halt the conversation, I offer to make the coffee I promised him. Realizing I’m still holding Burning Desire, my newest firefighter romance, in my hand, I hide it behind my back. Quickly, hoping he doesn’t see it, I tuck the book in my laundry basket before showing him into the small kitchen.
If anyone ever judged me on my laundry skills, or lack thereof, I’d fail—miserably. Thank God, it was there today, though. Having to explain that book would have made my cheeks flame for sure.
David’s large body devours the tiny kitchen, his broad shoulders literally taking up the entire doorframe. On the tips of my toes, I reach up into the highest cabinet ever made and struggle to get down two mugs. With empty hands, I turn around to see David grinning like a fool at me. Arms folded across his chest, he’s simply standing there watching me lose the battle with the too-tall cabinet.
“Something funny?” I pull a face at him over my shoulder. Turning around, I lean back against the counter. He’s in front of me in two short strides, eyes heated and bright with amusement.
“Nope, nothing at all.” Smiling down at me, I can feel his low chuckle vibrate between us. Without having to reach up an inch, he opens the cabinet door and effortlessly pulls down two mugs, bathing me in his heat as he does so. “Looking for these?” Quirking up a brow, he lightly mocks my vertical deficiency.
Reaching around me, he places them on the counter. “Coffee’s up there, too.” My voice is thin and wispy, barely audible. With hardly a stretch, he pulls down the can of coffee, setting it beside the mugs. Instead of stepping away from me, as I’d expect him to do now that I have everything I need, he puts his hands on the counter, one on each side of me. Locking me in place, he continues to smile down at me. If I thought he ate up the space before, I was sadly mistaken.
“Anything else?” he asks, a playful lilt in his voice.
“No,” I choke.
Looking up into his dark eyes is as if I’m staring into the night sky. His pupils are so wide, the black erases the brown. The little sparks of light look like stars dotting the sky. It’s a look so precisely mixed with desire and hunger, laughter and mirth it stops my brain from functioning.
Granting me the space my body and my brain so obviously needs, he sits at the table and watches me fumble my way through making a pot of coffee. Though he’s not right next to me, I can feel his eyes on me, tracking me with each scoop and pour.
The cool air of the refrigerator helps me shake myself out of his heat-induced stupor long enough to ask if he wants milk or cream. After topping off each mug with cream, I sit next to David and slide him his coffee.
; “So how was–”
“Sorry, I didn’t call when I said I would.” His words cut off the beginning of my question.
Shaking away his concerns, I want to appear as if the single day delay in his call didn’t even cross my mind. “Stop, it’s nothing to worry about.”
“One of the guys’ wives had a baby,” he explains, even though I hadn’t asked anything further. “She was early, too. So even though he had his time planned already, this came as a surprise.”
“Are they okay?” I gasp, sitting up straight.
“Yeah.” He dismisses my concerns with a smile from around the rim of his mug. “He called the station last night to let us know. The baby is in the NICU, but is doing really well.”
“So you had to stay the extra day then?”
Shaking his head, David places his mug down on the table. “No, it’s just that I didn’t have much to rush home to. The other guys, who were on that day, all had families waiting at home,” he adds as he absentmindedly stares out the window. “There was nowhere else I was needed, so I volunteered to stay.”
Dropping a hand delicately over his, I draw his attention back to me. “That was really sweet of you.” Squeezing his hand forces a lopsided and shy smile to spread across his handsome face.
A loud bang from the living room makes both of us jump from our seats, nearly knocking our coffee over in the process. “What the?” I call out, clutching a hand to my chest where my heart is beating wildly.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Jade curses as she tumbles through the room. “Crap, ow!” she yells after what I assume was her toe smashing into the desk.
Craning her head into the kitchen, she stops in her tracks when she sees David. “Oh, hi,” she manages to calm herself enough for a normal greeting.
“Everything okay?” I ask, shooting her the ‘this better be good’ look.
“Uh, well . . . sure . . . it’s nothing . . .” she stammers and though she’s trying to take the attention off her less than graceful entrance, I can tell whatever’s going on is certainly more than nothing.
“It’s just a huge dinner meeting with a prospective client was thrown on me at the last minute and I have,”—looking down at her watch, her eyes widen in panic—“shit, like fifteen minutes to get ready.”
“So go.” I shoo her away, wondering why the hell she’s still standing there when she now has about thirteen minutes to be out the door.
“It’s just . . . well, I didn’t mention, but . . . uh . . .”
“Spit it out already,” I declare, growing more and more impatient with every pause in her broken words.
Her eyes travel over to David and then back to me. “I need you to come with me,” she says quietly, angling her head down the hall toward her bedroom.
My brows knot together in confusion as I glare at her. “Excuse me for a minute, please.”
After pulling Jade into the back of the apartment where our bedrooms are, I quietly close the door behind us and ask her exactly why I need to go with her.
“What is your problem?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I rest against the closed door at my back. “You’re acting a touch crazed.” Pinching my finger and thumb together, I emphasize how insane she’s behaving.
“I need you to come with me because it’s not really a business dinner,” she explains, scurrying around the room.
“Okay.” Dragging the word out, I wonder what the hell she’s getting at.
“You can’t possibly be that dense can you?” Through all of her racing around the room, she somehow still manages to preserve enough energy to be monumentally sarcastic.
“Apparently, I am.” Huffing, I flop onto her bed as she rifles through her closet, tossing dress after dress next to me. “So why don’t you slow down, and tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Okay.” An odd look spreads across her face as she sits next to me. “But no matter what I say, you have to promise to say yes.” Her eyes narrow, holding me in their harsh stare. Sticking up her pinky, she waits for me to accept her terms.
“That’s an awfully lopsided agreement you’ve got there, missy.”
She says nothing, just pushes her pinky further into my face. The tiniest hint of a smile pulls at her lips as I wrap my pinky around hers. “I knew you’d go for it!” Her voice is a mixture of relief and victory.
“Whatever, just hurry up so I can get back out there.” Angling my head to the door, I’m anxious to get back to David.
“See that’s the thing. You can’t. You have to come with me,” she spits out quickly.
“Wha–”
Not even allowing me the space in which to protest, she holds a finger up at me. “No,” she demands, waggling her long finger in my face. “You promised you would do what I said. Pinky promise. So now you have to.” Shooting me a mock-serious look, I nod at her ridiculousness, figuring I’ll at least hear out her plan before fully rejecting it.
Reminding myself she can’t make me do anything, I sit there impatiently waiting for her to spit out whatever the hell she wants.
Jade’s face twists in seriousness as she pulls my hands into her on her lap. “It’s Bryce.” She bounces with her uncontainable giddiness. “Stop it,” she admonishes the eye roll I give her in response. “This is serious. You know how long I’ve been trying to get his attention.”
“Jade,” I whine. “Can’t this wait? I really want to be done with this so I can get back out there to him.”
“Please,” she begs. “It’s just one night. He’s bringing a friend and I need you there.” Her big brown eyes go into puppy dog mode and even though the only thing I want to do is walk out of the room and sit back down next to David, the best friend part of me knows I have to go with her for moral support. Jade plays the part perfectly, pouty lips and all.
“Fine,” I huff my agreement, not at all happy with her. “But you owe me.” Jabbing a finger at her, I pretend to be mad with her. The truth is, I’m not. She’s been hard up on Bryce for the last six months. Too busy with finishing school, Bryce couldn’t give her the attention she’d wanted. They’d always been friends, but I guess now that they were both done with school, he was looking at her in a different light.
The light in which she’d always seen him.
And if this was her chance to finally get his attention, I didn’t want to hold her back.
“What should I tell him, though?”
Jade shrugs. “I’m not sure. Tell him you’ll make it up to him.” She winks suggestively and then stands from the bed. “Just make it quick because we need to get out of here like five minutes ago.”
Huffing, I make my exit back to the living room. Stopping at the curve of the hallway, I peek inside to see David pacing the floor. He stops at the rows of shelves lining the wall. As he looks over the pictures, carefully picking each one up, his lips pull into a carefree smile. His fingers absentmindedly ghost over the images and something in my chest swells.
“Hey,” I call out, not wanting to startle him by stepping up behind him.
With more clumsiness than I would have expected, he replaces the frame, nearly knocking over two more in the process. “Hi, uh, I was just looking,” he rambles an explanation as he rights each tumbled-over frame.
Moving to his side, I feel his body next to mine, a wall of solid muscle and warm kindness. “That’s Dani, my sister. Mom was pregnant with her that night.”
When I look up, his face pales slightly, then morphs into one of relived happiness. “You know on one hand, it feels like so long ago, but then on the other–”
“It feels like just yesterday,” I say, finishing his sentence for him. “I feel the same way. So much of my childhood revolved around that night. The moving. The starting over. It was really crazy.”
A blip of comfortable silence falls upon us and I wonder what he must be thinking. There’s too much light in his deep brown eyes for him to be thinking of nothing and I’d give anything to catch a glimpse of what’s hidden there.
&nb
sp; “So, listen–” he starts, but is quickly interrupted by Jade.
“Grace,” she calls out. Without saying anything else, she taps on the face of her non-existent watch. “Please,” she begs and then disappears back into her room.
“I hate to do this,” I explain. “But I have to go.”
“Is everything okay?” There’s misplaced concern in his voice, on his face.
“Yes, of course. It’s just . . .” The words I want to say die on my lips. Misleading is the last thing I want to be, but at the same time, I know I need to be honest with him. “It’s a date,” I admit finally. “But not really. I just have to help out Jade.” The entire story sounds lame, but my brain doesn’t move fast enough so that I can offer any further explanation.
“Oh. Okay.” Jamming his hands in his pockets, he walks toward the door, clearly feeling something that resembles dejection. “I understand.”
The door creaks open and as he steps into the hallway. Reaching for his arm, I turn him back to me—mainly because I want to explain that I’d much rather spend some more time with him, but also because my fingers have been itching to touch him since I first saw him. “It’s not what you think.”
“What do you think I think?” he asks, looking down at my fingers on his bicep. There’s a hint of something sexy and forbidden in his question, setting me on edge.
My tongue is suddenly too big for my mouth and my brain too slow for my own good. “I . . . uh . . . just that . . .”
He laughs, deep lines making dimples in his cheeks and then speech stops being a difficulty. It’s an impossibility. “It’s okay, Grace.” His fingers skim my forearm. “Go on your date. I’ve got plans with Ian to go to Smoke anyway. It’s no big deal. Really.”
My brain goes into total girl mode in that instant.
You mean your plans weren’t to stay here for hours just so I could stare at you.
What do you mean you already had plans?
Not a big deal? Of course it is!
From the Wreckage Page 5