by Lori Ryan
“The Beast is safer than seventy percent of the vehicles out on the roadway.”
“The Beast,” she said, using air quotes again, “is older than we are.”
“You sure do like those air quotes.”
“I’m serious.” She swatted his arm. “This thing can’t be safe.”
“You think I’d take you out into the wilderness of Colorado in a truck I wasn’t one hundred percent confident in?”
He had a point there. Grant had always been protective of her safety, until she’d had her miscarriages. Then he’d seemed to pull away and let her care for herself. Of course, she hadn’t really reached out to him for support either, if she were honest.
She glanced around the cab. She had to admit, the car was clean and seemed well-cared for. “This was really your car in high school?”
He lifted his chin with pride. “Sure was. Me, my dad, and my Uncle Mark all worked on restoring it. My brothers helped too, when they could. I bought The Beast when I was fourteen. Took two years of hard work for me to get it running, but by my sixteenth birthday, this girl was ready to roll.”
“First of all, if this car is female—”
“Jeep,” he corrected. “We will also accept ‘Wagoneer’, but definitely not ‘car.’”
“Anyway,” she rolled her eyes, “if your Jeep,” she said sarcastically, “truly is a girl, you can’t call her a beast.”
“Sure you can. She’s beauty and the beast. She has a split personality some days.”
Sophie laughed, shaking her head. “So, you bought a car at fourteen?”
“Yeah. I always worked as a kid, odd jobs here and there until I got paid. My mom said I was pretty hyper.”
Sophie chuckled. “Yeah, I know.” Grant had never been one to sit still for very long, something she knew for a fact drove some of his directors crazy.
“Anyway, I started working at the local grocery store. Mr. Thompson’s wife had this beauty and I fell in love.” He ran his fingers against the dash again, seemingly in awe of The Beast. “I worked hard, saved my money, and when Mrs. T was ready to buy a new car, Mr. Thompson sold me this one.”
She sat silently, watching as he basked in the welcoming embrace of the car he so obviously loved. She recognized that look, it was an expression she missed. He used to look at her that way.
He turned his head toward her and stared. “What?”
She didn’t want to think of those adoring looks. She needed to keep her walls up, for now. “This car is a far cry from your Mercedes SUV in California.” That vehicle had cost over a hundred thousand dollars, something Sophie had balked at, and never understood. Who needed to spend that much on a car?
“Yeah, that SUV had nothing on this beauty.” He patted the dash again. “Besides, you know all those high-priced cars in California are for show anyway.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Feel like you had to put on a show for everyone?”
His jaw clenched. “You do it too, Soph. You know better than anyone that our outward appearance is a game, part of the act we’re selling. No one could be as perfect as our publicists make us out to be.”
Sophie sank back into the seat and stared straight ahead. He was right, of course. She was always as genuine as she could be with her fans and the public, but sometimes she was worn out, putting on a smile for the cameras when all she really wanted to do was run and hide.
“As demonstrated earlier this year by me,” Grant added.
She stared at him, waiting for him to continue, not surprised when he didn’t. For months she’d wanted to know what had fueled the fight between Grant and his long-time manager and agent. “May I ask you something?”
“Of course,” he answered, gripping the wheel tighter.
“What happened between you and Don?” He’d nearly beaten the guy to a pulp, if the magazines could be believed—which, she should know, they couldn’t. Still, there had been enough reports of it that she thought there might be some truth to that story.
“Misunderstanding,” he said calmly, never taking his eyes off the road.
“I know there’s more.”
He shrugged.
“Will you ever tell me?”
He finally glanced over at her. “Would it matter?”
Would it? “I guess it was just a shock, finding out you’d been so violent with someone, with anyone, but especially your own agent. You’ve never been physical in any way.”
“I had my reasons,” he said, his jaw flexing. His face glowed from the lights of the dashboard as he stared straight ahead, eyes narrowed. “I’d do it again if I had to,” he said, half under his breath.
She stared at him slack jawed, unable to believe Grant was the vicious person she saw before her.
“Did you have to this time? What if something you had to do or something you chose to do?” she asked.
“It was necessary,” he practically growled.
“Was it worth it? Losing everything for a stupid fight?”
He cut his gaze toward her, his brows narrowed. “Absolutely.”
Absolutely? He said it with such certainty she shivered. What the hell had happened? Realizing she would never get any more information, not now, maybe not ever, she turned and faced the front, staring off into the darkness.
“I can’t believe how dark it is here at night,” she said.
“You forget when you’re surrounded by all the light pollution of the city.”
She leaned forward, looking out the windshield up at the sky past the tall trees. The stars were shining bright and she felt a sense of peace wash over her. They turned onto the road that led to Grant’s mother’s home and the lodge. “Are we staying at your mom’s?”
He glanced over at her, his eyes raking over her body, laughing out loud. “Seriously? I have a month alone with you and you think I’m taking you to my mom’s?”
“I don’t know.” She lifted one shoulder.
“No,” he shook his head, “definitely not my mom’s.”
“Then where?”
“Jackie didn’t tell you?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Surprising.”
“I know.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Why are you two working in cahoots now anyway?”
“I wouldn’t call it cahoots.”
She raised a skeptical brow. “Then what?”
“She wants you to be happy,” he said.
She stiffened in her seat. “I am happy.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, never looking over at her. Thank God.
“I’m not,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the silence.
She turned and stared at Grant but his gaze was fixed on the road ahead. “You’re not?”
His hazel eyes cut to hers. “Not yet, but I’m getting there.” He smiled, a genuine expression that sent her heart beating faster. Oh, no, she was in deep doo doo with Grant.
She stared out of the passenger side window, watching the changing landscape. “Hey, isn’t that the ski resort? Are we staying there?” The idea of spending a month at a fancy resort sounded idyllic in some ways, but she longed for the peace and quiet that came with anonymity. She’d never get that if she and Grant were seen together at a big place like that.
“Nope, not the resort.” Grant continued driving past the outcropping of resort buildings and turned down a small road. The path was no more than a rutted-out trail, one lane only and leading to God knew what.
“This reminds me of that horror movie you made.” She laughed. “Remember?”
“Oh, God,” he groaned. “Please don’t remind me.”
The film had been made early on in Grant’s career and was so horrible it was a cult classic now that he was famous.
“What was it called?”
“I don’t remember.”
She snorted in disbelief. No one would forget the name of it if it was on their resume forever. “Wait, I’ll find it.” She reache
d in her purse to pull out her phone, then noticed she had no signal. She stared from her phone back to Grant. “I don’t have a signal.”
“No signal out here.”
Her mouth fell open. “Are you serious? My phone won’t work?”
“Nope.” He shook his head as if this made perfect sense.
“Grant,” she practically shouted. “I can’t live without my phone. What if Jackie needs me? What if my parents need me?”
“They all know how to get ahold of us. Jackie can contact any of my family, or Warner, and they’ll come get us. We’re not that far away from civilization.”
No phone? God, had she become that much of a diva that living without a phone for a few days would be like the apocalypse? “Wait, we’re here for a month. We won’t have any cell service…for a month?”
“Nope. Not unless we’re at the resort or my mom’s, or in town.”
“Uggh,” she groaned, sinking back in her seat. This was going to be the longest month of her life.
She sighed. Or maybe it would be the best thirty days of her life, the break she needed. She turned and glanced at Grant, who was now staring at her as he smiled. Whether she needed it or not, this was going to be the longest month of her life for sure.
Chapter Fifteen
Grant shoved the gearshift into park and turned off the ignition, staring at the cabin. “Well?” he asked, not sure what to expect Sophie to say.
She leaned forward and eyed the structure out of the front windshield. “It’s small,” she said hesitantly.
Well, at least she wasn’t freaking out, he thought.
“You want to go in?” he asked tentatively.
She turned and stared at him, her expression barely visible through the darkness. “Do I have a choice?”
He sat in silence for a moment, studying her beautiful face. It was more than her physical beauty that had captured his heart years ago, it was her charm, her grace, her ability to make a stranger feel welcomed…and loved, in mere minutes.
“You always have a choice, Sophie. That’s what this is about.”
He watched as her breath caught, her gaze never leaving his.
His eyes searched hers for any uncertainty. “I don’t want you to feel trapped here, at all. If you want to go, anytime, just say the word.”
She swallowed hard. “I told Jackie I would give you thirty days, and I will.”
“Let’s go in then.” Without waiting for her reply, he grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. Walking to the back of the Jeep, he popped the tailgate and slid out their luggage. Sophie had indeed only packed one suitcase, albeit a large one.
“I can get that,” she said, butting up beside him.
“You’re trampling on my manhood.” He smiled, his gaze holding hers.
She stared at him for several moments before stepping back and shaking her head.
He felt like he’d been zapped with a cattle prod. What the hell had that been about?
He carried the two pieces of luggage toward the stairs leading to the front porch. Thankfully, he’d remembered to turn on the porch light when he’d prepared the place earlier.
“Oh, look,” Sophie cried out, “there’s a swing.” She raced up the stairs, her blonde hair blowing in the cool breeze. “I love porch swings,” she said as she plopped down on the large wooden seat and pushed herself into motion.
Her smile was so wide and genuine, Grant’s chest burned with longing. And a piece of his anxiety lifted. She at least liked the swing.
“Oh, here, let me.” She rose from the swing and raced to the front door. She glanced over her shoulder as she pulled open the wooden screen door. “Is it locked?”
“Yeah, here.” He moved to slide around her but she grabbed the keys from his hand. As with any time he touched her, a spark ignited in his mid-section. Jeez, all she was doing was taking keys from his hand. Down boy, he commanded himself.
“It’s the red key,” he said.
She deftly moved through the ring of keys until she found the right one, and slid it into the lock. Turning the knob, she opened the door and slowly walked inside.
Grant grasped the two suitcases and walked in behind her, taking in the small but cozy cabin. On the second floor was a loft bedroom that overlooked the small living room. Toward the back was a kitchen with a pass-through window and a small table. To the right was a short hallway that led to the work room Warner had told him about.
“Down that hall,” he nodded to the one in front of them, “is the spare bedroom and bathroom.”
Sophie walked further inside, her eyes traveling every inch of the small space. “It’s lovely,” she said.
He blew out an anxious breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I’m glad you like it. You have the loft bedroom upstairs if you want. It’s bigger. But if you need more privacy, you can have the bedroom at the back of the house. It’s really small, just an addition for Warner’s father since he can’t climb the stairs anymore.” Christ, he was rambling.
“No, the loft will be great. Why do you look so scared?” She laughed.
“Well, I basically kidnapped you and forced you to stay here.”
“No you didn’t. Remember, I don’t have to do anything unless I want to.” She took a step closer. “It’s time we figured this out, Grant, whatever it is between us, once and for all.”
He ran a hand through his hair, not sure if he was happy or scared shitless. “Well, let me just take your suitcase upstairs.”
“I can get it,” she said, hefting the luggage in her hand before he could stop her. She traipsed up the stairs, dragging it behind her as she tried to carry the bag up the narrow, steep steps.
“Here,” he said, climbing around her and taking the case in his hand, “let me.” He released an exaggerated groan. “Good God, woman, what do you have in here?” He laughed, remembering just how much Sophie could take on a trip.
“You said only one piece of luggage so I had to get creative.”
“Are you sure there’s not a dead body in here?” he asked as he hefted it onto the last step and up onto the bench sitting at the foot of the bed.
Sophie moved around the bedroom, taking in every detail. “This is really nice. I was expecting more rustic.”
“I think Elle had something to do with upgrading the interior design a few years ago.”
Sophie glanced up. “She’s engaged to Emmett now, right?”
Grant nodded, surprised and happy that she’d remembered.
“Your family has grown a lot since I’ve been here. Three sisters-in-law, one niece, and two more on the way. I bet your mother’s ecstatic.” Despite her happy tone, he saw the underlying sadness in her eyes.
“I guess,” he said, trying to deflect the hurt and bad memories. Sophie hadn’t been the only one disappointed with the miscarriages, though she probably thought she was and he couldn’t blame her.
She leaned over the railing to look at the living room below, then out the window directly across from her. “You can see the moon,” she said with a smile. “Look.” She pointed.
Grant moved to stand beside her, ducking so he could see. “Yeah, you can. That’s kind of cool. Hopefully the morning sun won’t wake you too early.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, but he knew differently. Sophie loved to sleep in when she could, which wasn’t often.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“No. I’m good, just tired. Is the bathroom downstairs?”
“Yeah. Sorry, there’s just one.”
She opened her suitcase and pulled out a bag. “I think I’ll go clean up and head to bed if that’s okay.”
“Sure, or course. No problem.” Shit, he was just glad she was still here and hadn’t run for civilization.
“So, what’s the plan tomorrow?”
“Well, I thought we’d go to O’Halloran’s Outdoor Adventure Store.”
“Adventure?” she raised a brow.
“What, you grew up on the plain
s of Oklahoma. You’re no city slicker.”
“What kind of adventures?”
He shrugged. “We can talk to Grady, see what he recommends.”
“No extreme sports stuff like I know you used to do as a kid.”
Grant laughed, thinking of all the crazy things he and his brothers used to do growing up. “We’ll see.” He winked.
She stared at him, her expression blank.
Shit, why had he winked? That was one of those cheesy things he did in public, or when he was nervous, like now.
“Come on, I’ll show you to the bathroom,” he said, turning and heading down the stairs before he did anything else stupid. “Are you cold?” he asked, stopping just before he turned into the bathroom.
Sophie collided into the back of him. “Oh, sorry, I was looking at the fireplace.”
Just the feel of her, even for the briefest of moments, had him aching to reach out and pull her into him. He’d missed her so damned much. Would she ever believe he’d never been with anyone else despite what the rag mags had said during their separation?
He turned to face her. “I could build a fire.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m good. There’s a nice quilt on the bed. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
I could keep you warm, he wanted to say.
One side of her luscious mouth curled into a smirk. “I know that look,” she said.
Crap. There he went again, showing all his cards. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“I’ll keep your silent suggestion to keep me warm as an option.”
Shock tore through him, but it was followed by pleasure. And hope.
“Well, goodnight then.” She side stepped him and made her way into the bathroom. “Holy shitake mushrooms,” she said.
He laughed at her refusal to use curse words. His niece, Becca, wouldn’t make a dime off her Aunt Sophie.
Aunt Sophie.
Maybe that’s what Sophie needed, time around children. Or maybe that’s what she needed to see from him. To see him with his niece.
“This bathroom is incredible,” she said in awe.
Grant stepped in behind her. The bathroom didn’t fit the small cabin at all and he knew Elle must be behind it. It was large, tiled with stone slabs, the shower big enough for three people, at least.