“Thanks for reminding me this is all my fault.” I turn my back to him and stomp to the door.
“Dammit,” he mutters as he catches my arm. “Wait, don’t walk away. Just listen to me.”
I flip around. “What?”
He struggles with what to say, brows lowered, then lifts his hands. “Christ! Fine. I wanted leverage, and if it didn’t work, I could have resold it.”
“But how did you know that I loved it so much?”
He sighs. “Terry mentioned that you’d wanted to buy it someday, so . . .”
It’s too absurd. “Why go to such lengths? For me?”
“Because my mind is set on you,” he murmurs.
“Why?” I search his face, looking for clues as to what he’s thinking.
He debates internally, then says, “I’m in a rush to get married, and there aren’t any other options I like. Brody adores you. You’re . . . beautiful.” His words soften as he averts his glance and drags a hand through his dark hair. “I’m not terrible to live with. I have training camp soon, and I won’t even be around. I’ll keep the bookstore for you. Brody doesn’t want me to buy him anything anyway.”
I inhale sharply as hope flares, burning like a beacon.
Keeping the store would solve so many issues. I’d still have the memories of Gran here, and I could continue to take care of my family.
But at what cost?
I can feel a tiny thread of something between us. Chemistry, most definitely. Heat, oh yeah. From the moment he got out of his car at the motel, something about him caught my attention.
But . . .
I don’t want to get entangled with him. Haven’t I been through enough with Kian? I don’t want to jump right back into something else, especially something that feels . . . exciting.
Gray eyes search mine, trying to gauge my reaction.
What I want to do is run and break this spell he has on me, but instead, I stay rooted. My mind tumbles his words around, running different scenarios and outcomes.
“We’ll be professional,” he says. “Roommates in my apartment. Perhaps friends.”
“For how long?”
“A few months, maybe three; I’m not sure. Until the lawyer approves the inheritance. Then we’ll make up a story about why we’re getting divorced.”
I swallow, remembering how my heart jumps whenever he’s nearby. Obviously he doesn’t have that issue.
And buying the store? I don’t get it. Sure, he could use it as leverage, but that would be entirely overboard. Why not just find someone else? What is it about me that he wants?
“What happens to the store after we divorce?”
He studies my face. “I swear I’ll sell to someone who’ll keep it open.”
My throat tightens. It’s everything I could want.
Unease rises.
I shake my head. “What if . . . I mean, it would be easy to . . .” Get attached to him.
Which is the last thing I need.
A moment passes, then: “I see.”
“What?” I put my hands on my hips.
“You’re worried about falling for me.”
I scoff. “Jesus. Please. That was the last thing I was thinking. Save me from the egomaniacal asshole.”
“You won’t, I promise.”
“Why not? Just curious why you’d say that.”
He shrugs as he leans in, until our faces are close. The scent of ripe cherries and leather wafts in the air. If I moved a few inches, I could kiss him. His lips are perfect for kissing, like pillows.
“There’s armor wrapped around you so tight it might never come off, and I get it. You still have feelings for Kian. Am I right?”
Of course I have feelings for Kian, but I’m not clarifying exactly what they are to Graham. I shrug nonchalantly. Let him believe what he wants.
“What about you? Is there an ex-girlfriend I should be worried about?”
His jawline tightens as he glances away from me with a faraway look, one that makes me want to ask what’s wrong. The strong column of muscles in his throat moves. “We’re alike in that. I love someone I can’t be with.”
I inhale, an inexplicable pang of jealousy hitting me. “What? Who?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He eases away from me, as if he needs distance. “Both of us have our guard up. We’ve both been hurt. Neither of us hold any illusions about love or each other. We’re perfect. So . . . deal?” He glances at me.
“I’m in charge of the store?”