The Best Friend Incident (Driven to Love) Read online

  He could get used to this. Permanently.

  Wait. Permanently?

  His body flashed hot, then cold.

  Stacey frowned. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” He willed some sense into his endorphin-filled brain.

  Everything. Everything was wrong.

  What the fuck had they just done?

  And more importantly, had he just ruined everything?

  …

  Stacey yawned. She felt deliciously relaxed, her body free of tension so she was almost weightless. Great sex had a tendency to do that to her. Mind-blowing sex, on the other hand… She smiled. Guess she’d have to see how she recovered from it.

  She pulled the comforter tighter around her and sighed. “I knew you had a lot of talents, Grant, but who knew Sex God was one of them?”

  Whoa, what? Her eyes fluttered open as the words smacked her. Hard.

  Grant. Bed. Naked. Totally and completely sated.

  Holy hell. She’d just fucked Grant. Her best friend since forever. Not that sleeping with him once would change that, right? Didn’t people hook up for a night and go back to normal the next day? Could they do that? Could she do it?

  Stacey rolled out of bed, found her panties, and slid them on.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Painting my toenails. What does it look like I’m doing?” She found her bra on the bed but stopped when Grant effectively pinned it down with one hand. “Do you mind?”

  Instead of the amusement she’d expected, there was a serious frown on his face. “We need to talk.”

  “About?” She shivered and then hugged her arms.

  He pulled himself into a sitting position and patted the bed beside him. “Sit.”

  “I’m not sure I like your tone.”

  “Then sit and I’ll quit using it.” He patted the bed again. It was the same spot where she’d only moments before begged him to plunge into her.

  Oh. My. God.

  Stacey sat and bit her lower lip to stop the memories from running unchecked, from taking over reality altogether. But there was no way she could ignore the moisture seeping between her legs, or the way her body gently hummed because of what they’d just done.

  He grabbed the afghan off the foot of the bed and gently placed it around her shoulders, the gesture achingly sweet. When was the last time any guy had thought about her comfort? Had cared enough to make her feel like she mattered?

  Then again, this was Grant. He did stuff like this all the time. It didn’t necessarily mean anything.

  He pulled her up against him. Exactly the way he had on the sofa, before the sex thing happened. Only now things were different. Way different.

  She heaved in a deep breath and let it out slowly. There had to be something good that would come of this, although at the moment she was clueless as to what that might be, considering she’d just fucked her best friend.

  He reached a hand onto her shoulder and lightly massaged it. “That was amazing.”

  She blinked up at him. His words were softly spoken, like he was awed by the experience. Wasn’t he freaking out? Didn’t he understand the gravity of what they’d just done?

  “Yeah, it was.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, his warmth soothing her in the same way it always had. “But now what? We just crossed the friend barrier.” Certainly he realized that.

  “Who says?”

  “What do you mean?” She huffed out a breath. “We’re clearly more than friends now, and yet we’re not more than friends.”

  Oh, shit. She wasn’t sure what the hell she’d just said.

  “Do you regret what just happened?”

  The question was quietly spoken, the words a soft-tipped spear aimed at her heart. Leave it to Grant to choose now to ask the most important question.

  “No.” That was the truth. “No, I don’t. It was…amazing.” She’d felt cherished and protected and safe, all things she’d not felt in a long time with a guy, if ever.

  “Then why make this complicated?” He shifted until he partially faced her. “Why not enjoy what we’ve got?”

  “Which is what, exactly?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, to be honest. But I do know that we’ve always been close. We shouldn’t let something like having sex change that for us. I think it’d be sad if we do.”

  Maybe from his viewpoint. From where she was sitting, she was almost sure that cutting things off was better now than later. At least if they did it now, eventually her body would forget, wouldn’t it? Then they could relax back into their easygoing relationship. Assuming that was still possible.

  She sighed and dropped her head into her hands. This whole thing was confusing. And it was her own damned fault.

  He pulled her close and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Nothing between us has to change. We’re still best friends.” He said it with such determination, such conviction, she half wondered if he was trying to convince himself. “If you’re not comfortable adding sex to the equation, we won’t.”

  Well, when he put it like that…

  Walking away from their friendship didn’t make sense, probably never would. They had too much invested in each other.

  Whether or not they slept together again was an entirely different story.

  “Best friends,” she said, ignoring the little voice at the back of her head that told her tonight had been a bad idea. It was too late to go back now. At this point, Stacey wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I don’t know how you talked me into this,” Stacey grumbled beside him. “I’ve got a ton of things to do today.”

  Grant pulled his kayak to the water’s edge. This time of year, Spearhead Lake was typically quiet, particularly at midday. “You said yourself you’ve been working since seven this morning. You need a break and you know it.”

  “The water’s going to be cold.”

  “Quit being a baby. We’re only going to be in it long enough to get in and out.” He straightened, placed fisted hands on his hips and stared at the top of her ball-capped head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re looking for any excuse not to enjoy this.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She positioned her kayak alongside his, then adjusted her sunglasses. “It’s a gorgeous day, the sun’s out, tourist season hasn’t really started. It’s just that…”

  “What? What’s bothering you?”

  “It feels weird. Like I want to hug you, but then that turns into kissing, and we both know where kissing gets us.”

  “Someplace fun?”

  “Be serious.”

  “Are you trying to tell me last night wasn’t fun? Maybe we should try it again, just to be sure.” He kept a straight face, but his dick was definitely interested in her answer, particularly if he got the green light.

  Her face turned the slightest shade of red. “That’s not funny.”

  Grinning, he pulled her into his arms. “Here. Let’s just get the hug thing out of the way so we can enjoy the afternoon.”

  “Goofball.” She smacked him in the chest, but at least she’d relaxed some. “Fine.”

  He released her and turned his attention back to the kayaks. Another thirty seconds of that and he ran the risk of kissing her and proving her right. “Let’s get our life vests on and hit the water.”

  A few minutes later they quietly paddled along the edge of the lake, the midday sun warm against his skin, and the life vest providing just enough warmth over his T-shirt.

  “It’s beautiful here.” Stacey smiled, one end of her paddle dipping into the water and pulling her forward, her speed matching his. Not that he was going very fast. That was the thing about being out on the lake. Life slowed down enough that he felt grounded.

  “Let’s head over to Lava Cove and search for rocks,” she suggested. “I’m putting a tablescape together for a client, so I could use some.”

  He nodded. Lava Cove was a popular spot on the other side of Spearhead La
ke, and in the next few weeks, would play host to crowds of summer tourists. Today, it was likely empty.

  Too bad it couldn’t always be this way, but progress was progress, and the same crowd of tourists who took advantage of Milestone’s outdoors also frequented the restaurants and bars that sold his distillery’s whiskeys, bourbons, vodkas, and gins. Grant was more than happy to keep the stills working, the barrels filled, and the tourists happy.

  He listened to the quiet, felt the rightness of the moment, felt the rightness of his life. There was something so real about all of it, here on the lake, with Stacey by his side. They didn’t say much, didn’t have to. It was one of the reasons he enjoyed her company, one of the many reasons they were best friends.

  Julian’s parting words drifted through his mind.

  “You treat Stacey right, and she’ll be by your side your entire life…”

  As much as he needed them not to be true, he couldn’t deny that there might be a kernel of truth hidden in their depths.

  He was so screwed.

  And he needed to slow things down before he screwed himself further.

  …

  “There.” Stacey threw a handful of rocks into her plastic sack and stowed it in the kayak. “That should do it.”

  She smacked her arm. Damned mosquitos. Maybe she should throw on her life vest. Hard to get a tan that way, though.

  Her stomach grumbled loud enough for Grant to hear it, confirmed a split second later when he pulled out the backpack he’d brought with him. “Sounds like it’s time for food.”

  “What’d you bring?” She straddled the log opposite him, thankful that she’d pulled shorts over her bikini bottoms.

  He handed her an apple. “I’ve got some nuts, too.”

  “I know that.” Her eyes shot to his, and although she couldn’t see through his sunglasses, she was willing to bet he was just as startled as she was by her words. “I mean, you always bring mixed nuts when we head out anywhere,” she quickly added.

  He shot her a lopsided grin. “And you seem to enjoy them.”

  “I do seem to have a thing for nuts,” she agreed. A corner of her mouth tweaked up, and while she struggled with whether or not to voice her thoughts, she wasn’t surprised when they won out in the end. “I especially like the kind that come in pairs.”

  He chuckled, the sound a caress over her warm skin. “Is that an invitation?”

  “That depends. Are we flirting?”

  “It would appear that way.” He picked out a match, the flame bursting to life when he struck it against the side of the box.

  “You brought candles.” She grinned. “Are you sure this isn’t a date?” she asked before biting into her apple.

  “Do you want it to be?”

  She stared out onto the lake as she chewed. Another time, another place, another guy, it’d be the perfect setting. Why couldn’t it be the perfect setting now?

  He grinned. “Hey, I was just kidding,” he said, stowing the matchbox. “The candle’s citronella. You know, to keep the bugs away. It’s not exactly romantic.”

  “It’s thoughtful. There’s an element of romance in that.”

  Okay, what was going on here? Was she actually trying to make him fit her definition of someone romantic?

  Geez. That was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. This was Grant, for God’s sake. Commitment-phobe, live-in-the-moment Grant. Not some hero out of a Hallmark movie.

  “Look, Stace,” he said, hands on his thighs. “I…um, that is… ”

  “Spit it out already.”

  He blew out a breath and stared across the lake. “You know I want you to be happy, right? You know that means everything to me.”

  Uh-oh. He was trying to be serious, and her gut told her it wasn’t a good thing.

  “Yes.” She took another bite of her apple to stop herself from saying more.

  “As much fun as this is, and as much as I’d love to stay on the ‘see where this goes’ train, I don’t want to see whatever this thing is between us get in the way of your finding the kind of guy who’d love you the way you want, the way you deserve.”

  And there it was. The biggest reason this was far from a Hallmark movie.

  But as much as she wanted to challenge him, to point out all the ways they were good together, she knew he meant what he said. He wanted her to continue her search for another man. He didn’t want her, at least not long term, and she respected herself far too much to argue for a relationship she knew he wasn’t ready for.

  A strange pang started in her chest and radiated outward. She chewed the apple slowly, its once sweet flavor falling flat.

  He had abandonment issues, and while there were no guarantees in life, he had to have faith that not every woman was going to leave him. Unfortunately, she couldn’t wave a magic wand and give him that faith. Every YouTube video she’d seen on the subject made it very clear that he had to do the work himself if he wanted to live a deeper, more fulfilling life. Which pretty much meant that, in this moment, he was who he was.

  So quit trying to make him something he’s not.

  “Stace? You okay?”

  “Of course.” She waved him off with one hand. “Just thinking about my schedule. You know, where I’m going and what kind of guys might be there for me.”

  God, she hated lying, but now that she thought of it again, what was so wrong with going back to online dating? Some of the guys were questionable, but there was no rule that said she had to meet them. At the very least the experience would get her back in the dating game and her focus on someone besides Grant.

  “How’s your kayak working?” he asked, bringing her right back to Spearhead Lake and the apple she’d stopped munching on.

  In light of their heavy conversation, it was a weird question.

  Stacey took a deep breath and smiled as brightly as she could. “It’s not taking in water, so it seems fine to me.”

  “I was thinking I’d like to take them on vacation with me one of these days.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to just rent a kayak wherever you end up?” She kept her voice light, unaffected. It was the best way to get through this, to shine the proverbial light on their pseudo-relationship so she’d remember what it really was: temporary.

  “Not every lake has someplace close by where I could do that. Besides,” he added. “I thought I’d load them up, then take a road trip to Alaska next summer. Maybe stop along whatever lake or river I wanted and get in the water.”

  “Alaska, huh? What’s the attraction?”

  “Never been there before.” He shrugged. “I just thought it sounded like a good idea.”

  Alaska.

  With no invitation to join him.

  They’d barely started, and he was already moving on.

  Which meant Stacey had to figure out a way to do the same.

  …

  The crowds were bigger than they were at the mayor’s brunch last week, which was likely the reason why Grant felt like he was suffocating. He tugged at the noose around his neck. Okay, it was a tie, but same difference.

  Hard to believe some guys wore a tuxedo on a regular basis…by choice. He, on the other hand, had been suckered to parade around in something that wasn’t shorts and a T-shirt for the second time in two weeks.

  Although Stacey had mentioned how nice he looked tonight. He scanned the ballroom and frowned. She’d disappeared into the crowd almost as soon as they’d arrived, but in a room full of eligible bachelors, it wasn’t hard to guess what she was doing.

  His frown deepened. What did it matter to him? He’d been the one to tell her she needed to continue her manhunt. It was in her own best interest. He wouldn’t be a dick and tell her she couldn’t.

  “Grant? Is that really you?”

  The familiar voice broke through his thoughts, made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle even before he turned around. And speaking about life happening… “Trisha.”

  His ex. A woman he’d dated much longer than he
should have. It shouldn’t have surprised him to see the beautiful blonde here. The Milestone Moments Gala was the area’s premiere event, and the woman had always aimed high—which was a big reason they didn’t work out.

  “Don’t you look good.” She didn’t bother to cover her purr of admiration and swept her gaze up and down him like he was a fur coat she wanted to slide her arms into. “Glad to see you’ve taken my advice and upgraded your wardrobe.”

  Grant frowned. Clearly not much had changed.

  She took half a step back and tossed her blonde hair to the side in a way that he’d once thought sexy and inviting. Now he couldn’t wait to ditch her.

  Trisha scanned him from top to bottom and back again. “What are you wearing? Hugo Boss?” She eyed him critically. “You’ve got the right frame for it.”

  Hugo Boss? Hell if he knew. The distillery’s marketing manager had shown up at his office last week with a suit bag and orders to wear it tonight. Oh, he’d protested. Same as with the suit a couple weeks ago. His board shorts and T-shirt were a truer reflection of the kinds of clothes worn by the market they were targeting—the easygoing, relaxed, kick-back-after-work crowd. But Kylie was right. He couldn’t ignore the older, more sophisticated crowd, either.

  “Yes, that’s Hugo Boss,” she said before he could answer. “I’d recognize a Hugo Boss anywhere.”

  Apparently, he didn’t need to be around to participate in her conversation.

  “I heard you’re part owner at Mile High Desert Distillery now.” Trisha’s blue eyes glimmered with interest. No doubt it had more to do with his new position at the distillery, a place she’d once referred to as his dead-end job.

  “I am.” On the one hand, it was weird that he felt no need to gloat, but the truth was that Trisha no longer mattered, her opinions no longer mattered.

  When he turned, he caught his reflection in the mirrored wall at one side of the room. Hugo Boss or not, he had to admit the tux looked good on him. Too bad he didn’t give a damn about any of it. Stacey would probably insist that although he cleaned up well, it simply wasn’t who he was.