Sunkissed (9 page)

“Yes. I am.” He stood, turning away from her.

She grabbed his shirt, forcing him to twist around. “This isn’t your fault. It’s whoever was driving the car. Whoever is trying to hurt you.”

He gripped her arms, pulling her up to stand while helping her balance. “Don’t you get it? I can’t protect you when you aren’t here.”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I know. I know that. You are the most capable woman I’ve ever known. I know you don’t need me. But
I
need to protect you.”

Before she could say anything, his mouth crushed down on hers. He kissed her savagely, giving her no quarter, no room to object.

He gripped her clothes as if to tear them, but he reined in the impulse. Instead, he pulled her gently against him, using his body to anchor her weight, protecting her leg.

He shielded her from pain even through his desire.

She felt her heart yielding at his care.

He lashed her with kisses, laying siege to her carefully constructed fortress. She tried holding out, tried to block him from her heart.

But as her heart and body gave in to his gentle assault, her mind closed off in defeat.

Wanting to soothe him, she ran her hands up and down his back with gentle pressure. “You’re right. I’ll stay,” she said softly. Although she hated losing her privacy, he had a point. She was safer here with him.

His eyes flashed before he took her lips again. He took a step toward the couch with her still in his arms.

Trying to help him, she stepped forward with her injured leg. A shock of pain seared up her leg, wrenching a scream from her chest. If Grant hadn’t already been holding her, she would have fallen to the floor.

Scooping her up, he laid her gently on the couch. “What can I do?” His voice was hoarse, both with passion and fear.

“Nothing.
Nothing. It will pass.” She stopped him when he moved away from her. “Wait. Where are you going?”

“I’m getting you some more pain meds and ice.”

“No. It’s already easing. Stay with me.”

He looked grim. “I need a minute, Natalie.”

“Why?”

“I think it’s obvious.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I need to or else I won’t be able to stop touching you.”

“You don’t need to.” She leaned up, but was careful to keep her leg elevated. “I want you to touch me. I want to be with you, Grant.”

He shook his head forcefully. “We can’t. I’ll hurt you.”

“I’m willing to try.”

“But I’m not.”

Her body screamed in protest. “Grant, this is fine. I’m fine.” She took a deep breath before looking up at him. “Please.”

She could see how the word undid him, but he held firm.

She knew it was only out of concern for her, but her body didn’t care. “What gives you the right to make all the decisions?”

“I’m not making all the decisions. I’m making my own.” She thought she was going to murder him when he had the audacity to smile. “I’m sorry but we’re going to disagree about this. So, should I have James pick up some of your things tomorrow? Or would you like me to go get them myself?”

She sputtered, unable to find words to challenge his arrogance.

“No preference? All right then, I’ll call James and have him put a few things together. It will allow me to stay here in case you need me.”

“You arrogant jerk! You think after this I’d stay here? With you?”

“Oh. You’ll stay here with me all right.” He bent down and gave her a quick kiss. “You’re just mad. But don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Sweetheart?” she shrieked.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” His voice was coated in a country drawl.

“Grant. In about two seconds, I’m going to start screaming like a psycho, and possibly, start ripping out my hair. Or, even better, yours. Have James or you or whoever pack whatever you’d like.”

“All right, then,” he said calmly.

At that moment, she knew she’d been played. He had known exactly the right button to press to make her agree.

She would be bloody furious, if she wasn’t so astonished.

Natalie’s eyes glazed over as she stared at her blank screen. There were no images in her head, no color, nothing.

“How are you holding up?” James edged her desk.

“How would you be?” She let out a pent-up breath. “I can’t believe they got the fabric order wrong. What are we going to do? We can’t use that in this line.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know what to do. Our deadline is looming. There isn’t time to reorder. We’ll have to use it.”

“In the current line?”

“No.” She shook her head forcefully. “I’ll have to redesign everything.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Tell everyone to head home and to take tomorrow off. I want them all refreshed because once we start up again, they’ll be sewing their fingers off through the night.”

“All right.”
He lowered his voice. “How is everything else going? With Grant, that is.”

“Fine.
All right.” Her brows furrowed. She wasn’t quite sure what to say about him. She had been living with Grant the last few weeks. Things had been friendly, fun. Casual even. But something was off.

“Fine?” he supplied.

“Yes, fine,” she snapped. “I’m sorry.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m worn out, stressed out, and just in a bad place. Everything has been all right with Grant. We’ve gone out a few times, caught a movie or two, dinner. The usual sort of things when dating. I just happen to be living with him.”

“Are you two sleeping together?”

“Like sleeping or
sleeping
?”

His lips quirked.
“Either.”

“Surprisingly, no.
We have a good connection and I believe that we both care about each other, but the physical aspect hasn’t gone beyond some intense, blow-your-brains-out kisses. And we aren’t sleeping in the same room either. I don’t want that.”

“Ah.”

“Don’t say ‘ah’ like you’re all knowledgeable,” she grumbled.

“But I am.” She hunted for something to throw at him.
“All right.” He held up his hands while laughing. “You don’t need to kill me.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

He tried to swallow his smile. “You heading out too?”

“Yeah.
I’m blocked. No ideas are going to flood to me today.”

“Be safe, then. I’ll see you in a few days. Keep me posted and let me
know if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” She loved that s
he could always count on James.

Gathering up her purse and coat, she walked out of the building with the rest of her staff. Since her attack a few weeks ago, she’d been especially careful about being alone.

James held the door open while she maneuvered through with her crutches.

She was grateful that her left leg was injured instead of her right. This way, she still had a little of her independence, could drive herself around.

The lights in Grant’s windows were a beacon, welcoming her home through her exhaustion and worry.

But this wasn’t her home. It was where she was staying, temporarily. And Grant wasn’t a permanent person in her life.

But for just a moment, she looked through her windshield at the house, wondering what it would be like if she belonged.

Grant would come out, greeting her with a kiss before helping her inside, the two of them sitting down to enjoy the dinner he had made. Because they’d both know that she was hopeless in the kitchen.

They would ask about each other’s day. Listen to the other’s problems, and encourage when needed.

She could use some of that encouragement now.

Wiping the fantasy away, she got out of the car, and walked into the house.

Hearing her, Grant looked up from the couch. “Hey, you’re back early.”

She put down her purse with a thud, hanging the keys on the aged key ring by the door. “Yeah.” She didn’t need to say any more.

“Problems?”
He moved from the couch, assisting her into a chair. She didn’t need the help, but she appreciated it.

He moved behind her, rubbing her shoulders.

“The wrong fabric was ordered for the collection. It won’t fit with what we were doing. And there isn’t any time to reorder.” She arched toward him, sighing in pleasure.

“Is there anything else you could use?”

“No. That was the main fabric. We wouldn’t be able to get as much as we need to make it cohesive.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. We’ll have to use the fabric. I need to redesign some things, try to make it work.”

“Will you scrap the whole collection?”

“I hope not. We’ve put so much work into it.” Her head hung heavily. “What a waste.”

His fingers worked on a particularly stubborn knot in her shoulder. “Would it be worth it?”

“Maybe.” She puffed out a breath. “I don’t know. I don’t have any ideas. I just sat and stared at a blank screen for hours. Nothing. Zilch.”

“What about the things you’ve been sketching the last few weeks?”

“The World War II inspired stuff? I don’t think that would work.”

“Why not?”
He stopped rubbing and moved in front of her. “They were really good.”

Her head cocked to the side. The fabric would fit those designs. And she had already sketched enough for an entire collection. Could she make it work? “It’s a complete opposite from what we’ve already done.”

“Does that matter?”

“I guess not.” The idea wrapped around her brain, surging new creative life into her. “It could work,” she said, excitement tingeing her voice.

“Good.” Grant nodded his pleasure. “Dinner?”

“Sure.”

They headed into the kitchen, enjoying the roasted chicken he’d prepared.

“How do you always know what to say to help me?”

He shrugged. “We’ve been living together for weeks now. I’ve gotten to know you pretty well.”

“Yeah, but…” she gestured in the air with her fork, trying to find the right words. “It’s like, you’re always dead on. It’s crazy.” She rushed on before he could reply.
“And nice. There aren’t very many people that know me that well.”

“I’m happy that I can help you.”

They smiled at each other, bringing her earlier fantasy to mind. This evening had played out exactly as she’d imagined. But it wasn’t going to last.

It couldn’t, she reminded herself, but there wasn’t a strong conviction behind the sentiment. Something was shifting within her. Maybe it already had.

She gulped water. Searching her heart, she realized that Grant had partially wedged himself in there.

How had that happened? She frowned. Or better yet, when had it happened? They’d been casually dating. No strings, no attachments. But for some reason, it hadn’t stayed that way.

She wasn’t in love with him, she quickly assured herself. But she knew that with little effort, she could be. She couldn’t allow that, couldn’t be that defenseless. Not to anyone.

Besides, she couldn’t live at the orchard forever. It was beautiful, but she belonged in the city. Her business was there.

You could work downtown and then come home here
.

“Want to watch something after dinner?” he asked between bites.

“Do I get to pick this time? I don’t think I can do another Alien flick. I had no idea there were so many in the series.”

He laughed. “Pick whatever you’d like.”

“It’s probably a good thing that we watch something tonight. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to be so busy, I’ll have to sleep at the studio. You won’t see me for weeks.”

“You know,” he took another bite before
continuing, “you could always work out of the house. Then you wouldn’t have to waste time commuting and you’d have more time to work.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t do that. There isn’t enough room here.” She chuckled. “I spread out quite a bit when I work. Between the sketches, fabric, the works in progress, the completed items, mannequins, and accessories, it can overwhelm quickly.”

“I thought as much. I cleared out a spot in the barn. It’s large and open. I think it could work for what you’d need. You’re welcome to check it out and use it if you like it.”

She heard what he hadn’t said. He’d cleared it out for her.
For this very purpose. He was trying to be casual about it. Trying not to push her into anything. And she appreciated it. The fact that he had thought of her need for space touched her.

Standing, she rounded the table to him. “Thank you. You’re very thoughtful.” She touched her lips to his in a soft kiss, full with all the feelings coursing through her that couldn’t be expressed.

He stood, returning her kiss with a long, deep pull of his own. The ache she felt for him intensified, coating her heart like warm syrup.

He shifted, nuzzling her neck until her eyes rolled into her head. Nipping, he abraded her skin with tender love bites.

“Geez, you’re good at that,” she moaned.

He chuckled against her neck, the soft puffs of hair sent chills racing down her arms.

Again, his mouth met hers, his urgent kisses leaving her reeling, but before she could compensate, he changed the tone again, easing back, savoring her lips as if they had all the time in the world. Off balance, she tried to gain her footings as sensations rippled through her.

There were no words between them. None were needed.

Over the past few weeks, she’d become familiar with him. His habits, his quirks, his kiss.

But this felt new, different. She was floating, grasping for something to anchor her. But her hands only caught him.

Her hands tested him. He was lean, strong. Just as he’d always been, but there was something more now. He was sturdy. His arms and legs were corded with thick muscles, but she felt safe in his arms, knowing he would never use force with her.

She shivered, but not from the cold. Her skin was flushed, fevered from his hands, his kiss.

She didn’t know what to expect from him. Could only follow as he guided her to wherever he wanted.

She needed this, needed him in this moment.

This is where I belong
, her heart whispered.

Unable to contain the emotion, she leaned toward him, linking her fingers with his as their mouths met again.

She trembled, the sweetness of the moment overwhelming her.

He pulled away, searching her eyes, her face.
Her soul. Willing her to give him everything.

She couldn’t stop her heart from opening, aching to give him whatever he asked for.

With one last kiss, she surrendered the thing she had always kept locked away.

* * *

Determined, Grant mounted the stairs. Armed with cleaning supplies and a full box of trashbags, he was prepared to battle the mess in the attic. There was so much junk up there, he didn’t think his grandfather hadn’t known what it contained.

With Natalie absorbed in her collection the last two weeks, Grant decided it was time to haul stuff out of the attic, cleaning, organizing the items into “save” and “dispose of” piles.

It amused him, the different items that his ancestors had thrown up here. Next to mountains of trash were beautiful antiques, tables, rugs, and crystal lamps that could grace a museum, only to be followed by boxes full of old newspapers, no doubt saved for recycling and then never brought out.

His grandfather’s journals never mentioned Adele, but Grant still hoped to find more clues in the attic. It was possible that there was a stash of items somewhere else in this mess.

With a sigh, he took out a trash bag, carefully picking up the dead rat through the bag before securing it. That had been the second one. He could only imagine how many more were up here.

Moving aside a scarred table, he picked up a crystal lamp, dusty but remarkably still intact. He’d have to find a place for it downstairs.

He hesitated grabbing the lonely canvas bag against the wall. With the vermin up here, he knew better than to put his hand inside when something might have made it its home. He debated throwing it out as a whole, but he couldn’t let it go without knowing what was inside.