Creature of Habit (Creature of Habit #1) (21 page)

"What am I supposed to do Elijah, come out and say, "By the way, I'm not gay?" I continued my false conversation. "And, Amelia, you know all that weird shit I do? It's because I'm a vampire. Apparently the traits are easily confused…when really she was just trying come to a reasonable solution—a realistic one.”

Elijah broke into laughter and I groaned, rubbing my fingers through my hair.

"If it were you, what would you do?" I asked him, completely serious.

Elijah propped his elbow on the window of the car and leaned into his hand. "What would I do? Huh. I’m pretty sure I would’ve eaten her weeks ago."

A growl rumbled protectively in my chest at the thought, but he only spoke the truth.

"But," he continued, "honestly Grant, you are the only one of us who would ever get in a situation like this in the first place. You’re going to have to figure this one out on your own."

His sincerity was more than I expected. Elijah had a long history of violence and destruction. It would have been easy for him to disapprove. The simple idea of considering a relationship with a human was dangerous. I placed the whole family at risk.

None of that detracted from the fact I wanted her. I wanted Amelia, the human.

I was so fucked.

Chapter 34

Amelia

Olivia dropped me off after work and I stood, staring blankly into my refrigerator, trying to find some dinner. Drew was out with Jess. They were getting serious and he had been over quite a bit lately since Drew was worried about me being home by myself. It was Friday night though, and I insisted they go out.  I was actually looking forward to relaxing and watching some TV alone. I had been trying to process all the information Olivia shared with me today, and I was still a little stunned that Grant wasn't gay. I believed her because she seemed so sincere, but really I wondered what I had gotten myself into with this family.

Olivia's comment about being Grant's friend no matter what I learned about him was totally cryptic. I wanted to be there for him and help him through whatever it was that haunted him. But at some point, he was going to have to open up and let me in. He had already proven he could be a good friend to me, and I really wanted to do the same for him.

Pushing these thoughts aside, I eyed the pathetic choices in my refrigerator and determined that the leftover vegetarian chili was not going to work. I dug though the kitchen drawer for the takeout menus.

Five minutes later, I was scrolling though the numbers on my phone looking for my local Thai restaurant when I heard a sharp knock on the door. I checked the spy hole.  My favorite jaw line, attached to my favorite boss, waited on the other side. Even though I was annoyed with the fact he was a lying-liar, I was pretty happy to see him. I missed riding home with him. Happiness didn’t fully explain the cheek-splitting grin on my face at the moment. It didn’t justify the butterflies in my stomach, either.

I unlatched all the locks, knowing Grant would be listening to make sure I had the door secure.
That
was a conversation I did not want to have a second time. When I finally had the door open, he was waiting on the other side with a terribly sheepish look on his face and two bags of Thai food from the very restaurant I was about to call.

"This is a surprise," I said, flashing him a quick, controlled smile.

He gave me a killer one back that ignited the spark in my stomach. "I thought you may want some company and I brought dinner. You like Thai, right?" he asked and held the two bags up as evidence.

Incredulous, I nodded my head at him as he walked past me into the apartment and I relocked the door. He put the bags down on the table and began gracefully removing containers and placing them on the table.

I watched as he pulled out spring rolls, sticky rice, coconut soup and my favorite tofu and vegetable curry dish. I placed my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes at the scene unfolding in front of me.

He glanced up and noticed my demeanor and with wide violet eyes said, "What? Is something wrong?"

I pursed my lips trying to figure out exactly how to approach this. "Grant, what made you decide to bring Thai for dinner?"

He was busy opening lids but his hands stopped for a brief moment before continuing. "I thought you would like it. I know you don't eat meat so I thought this would be a good choice."

I considered this for a second but wasn't deterred. "Did you know this is my favorite restaurant?"

He looked up, his ever-smooth face completely innocent. "Is it?"

I rolled my eyes, pulling my hands from my hips and wrapping them around my chest defensively. "Yes, it is. And this happens to be all my favorite food."

He turned now to face me and gave me another fabulous smile. "Really? Lucky guess."

I glared at him. "You guessed and happened to bring exactly what I was getting ready to order from my favorite restaurant? You're good Grant, but not that good."

He leaned back on the counter between my kitchen and dining area and crossed his arms back, revving up those butterflies again. Calmly, he said, "You're wrong. I am that good."

"Really?" I challenged.

"Really." He accepted.

I waited for him to explain, because he was going to.

He pulled a chair out from the table and gestured for me to sit in it. I did and he pulled out his own and sat down across from me. The spices and heat from the food tickled my nose and were making my mouth water. He must have noticed because he said, "Go ahead and eat. I'll explain."

I pulled a plastic fork and spoon out of the wrapper and took a tentative sip of the steaming hot soup. It was delicious. I raised an eyebrow at him to proceed.

"First, Amelia, you are more transparent than you think. You've brought leftovers from this restaurant more than once to work."

I grimaced. Stupid, observant boss. It made me wonder for a moment what else he had noticed.

"That doesn't explain you bringing it here tonight, just as I was going to call," I retorted.

He rolled his eyes at me this time. "Olivia called and said she had dropped you off so I knew you were home and hadn't eaten..."

He hesitated at the end a bit and so I prompted, "And…"

His eyes flicked to the table, the smirk gone a bit and the sheepish one returned. "And I checked your refrigerator this morning while you were getting your sweater. I knew you had nothing to cook."

I recalled opening the door this morning and greeting Grant. He’d suggested I get a wrap since it was fairly cool this morning. I went back to my room to get it, leaving him in the doorway, and came back moments later with him in the same spot. Grant was either really fast or really lying. I wasn't sure which one yet.

I pondered these things for a minute while dipping my spring roll in sauce and taking a bite. The sauce was thick and tangy, and a glob of it dripped down my hand as I picked it up. I noticed Grant watching me eat, his eyes shifting to the mess on my hand. Knowing he was such a clean freak, I decided to push his buttons a bit since we were in my house and on my time.

I put my elbow on the table and twisted my arm so I could see the sauce slowly dripping down my arm. I looked at Grant carefully and said, "Okay. But stop checking my refrigerator. It's creepy and it's not like you eat anything anyway." Before he could respond, never taking my eyes off his, I stuck my tongue out and took a long swipe at the sauce.

I expected him to be repulsed. Perhaps he would scrunch up his face in revulsion. I thought it was possible he would gag, run to the bathroom and return with soap, antiseptic or bleach.

He did none of those things.

Instead I watched him swallow hard and lick his lips. His eyes pulsed with dilation.

Busted.

Olivia was right. He wasn't gay.

Slowly, I pushed my chair back and walked into the kitchen, and turned on the faucet. I pumped some soap into my palm and washed the remaining sauce off my arm, all while keeping my back to him. It was time to confront him. I was just going to come out and ask him if he was or wasn't gay. No big. I mean, it couldn’t be worse than how we got here in the first place.

I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine. There was no way I was doing this without liquid courage. Pouring myself a generous glass, I walked back to my seat where Grant was sitting exactly as I left him.

He eyed the glass and the change in my demeanor. “I won't go in your refrigerator anymore. Not unless you ask." He then made an attempt to change the conversation. "How was your day? Olivia said she kept you busy. What did you do?"

I took another bite of my dinner, chewing slowing and plotting my words carefully. "It was a good day. Olivia and I had fun. By the way, she is completely responsible for your closet. I was an innocent bystander."

"I can imagine," he muttered under his breath.  “I’m well aware that you can't stop Olivia from doing whatever she has her mind set on."

I nodded and smiled, working up the courage to ask my question. I speared a chunk of tofu on my fork and looked up at him, innocently. "You know, Grant. Olivia was telling me about your family today and some things about you. She made me realize you and I may have confused some information awhile back."

Interest flickered though his eyes and he cocked his head slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, and I apologize for talking to her about your personal life, but I wondered why someone as successful and attractive and caring as you are, wasn't in a relationship." I paused and took a long sip from my glass, letting the moment grow. "I also asked her if perhaps you would be open to me setting you up with one of my friends. He's fantastic."

Grant was completely still across from me. Everything about him, from his hair to his hands to his feet, appeared frozen. I sat back in my chair, holding my glass, rocking my wrist back and forth to let the liquid swirl around in a circle. I was completely freaking out inside. I had no idea why I felt the need to push this man to his limits, but I did and I was.

There was a battle raging behind his eyes. I watched it unfold like a bad TV movie. He was working out his lie in front of me and for that I was going to take him down.

"That is really nice of you, but I don't think I have the time for a relationship right now," he said, convincingly. If I didn't know better, I would've believed it. I needed to file this fact away for the future. Grant Palmer was possibly a con man and had no problem lying right to my face.

"Grant, I know you're not gay. Olivia told me."

He gaped. Only for a second, but I saw it.

Fueled by anger and the fact I had caught him, I shouted, "What the fuck, Grant? You're not gay? Who says they're gay when it's not true?"

Not waiting for an answer, I downed the rest of my wine and slammed the glass on the table, surprised it didn't break. I stood up and walked into the living room and settled into the couch. I pulled the blanket off the back and draped it across my legs. Closing my eyes, I hoped that when I opened them he would be gone.

I waited for some time, listening to the quiet of the apartment, thinking about what he had done. I was stunned and I tried to remember what Olivia told me about Grant and his need for barriers. I had promised her I would remain his friend and I would, but it would take some time for me to trust him.

Minutes passed and I opened my eyes. "Holy mother of—“ I shouted as my regained use of my lungs. Grant was sitting next to the couch, on the floor, staring at me.

I ran my hand over my face and sat up on the couch. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged and said, "I never left."

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes again thinking that maybe this time he would leave. I opened one eye and looked out.

Nope. Still there.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," he said in the quietest voice.

"I'm sorry you lied to me, too." I spat back.

"I promise I won't do it again. No matter what, from now on I will always be truthful." He did that trick, the one with his eyes, where I forgot my name.

"Why did you do it, Grant?"

I thought he would hedge again but instead he moved, kneeling so close I could feel his cool breath across my cheek. The feeling was amazingly familiar and I reached up to rub the spot.

"I did it because in my entire life, I've never known anyone like you. And I was afraid that if you got to know the real me you wouldn't want to work for me anymore and you wouldn't want to be my friend." He looked down at his hands, giving me a view of the top of his thick, glorious hair.

I reached out to lift his chin so I could see him better. He flinched away from my touch, a look of pain crossing his face. My hand hung in the air for a second, feeling an ebb of electricity, before I returned it to my lap.

"Grant, I promise that I will always be your friend and there is nothing more that I want than to get to know the real you. But it's a two-way street. You have to give as much as you want to get," I said and I meant it. I suspected that other than his family, Grant didn't have much experience with this. I was willing to be patient. About some things at least.  "No more lying. I'm serious, Grant. It's a deal-breaker."

He nodded and his lips pulled into the smile I suspected he knew I couldn't resist. I patted the sofa next to me and smiled back, giving him some space as he climbed in the seat. "I'm sure you don't watch a lot of TV," I said, rolling my eyes at him, "but I didn't get a chance to watch Sherlock this week. If there is one thing you need to know about me it it's that there's nothing I like better than a good mystery."