The Best Friend Incident (Driven to Love) Page 8

  “Oh, I did all right.” He turned to her, then, the look on his face a mixture of curiosity and… She sucked in a deep breath. His blue eyes were wide, his pupils dilated.

  Whoa.

  “He said that if I treated you right, you’d be beside me for as long as I lived.”

  Stacey blinked, the words registering and the heat creeping up her face. “He didn’t say that.”

  Grant only stared at her. “He did.”

  She gulped. It most certainly sounded like something the older man would say. And Julian didn’t bother to share his thoughts with those he figured weren’t up to hearing his take on life, which pretty much meant that he believed that Grant was okay.

  It wasn’t anything new to her, of course, but was it another reason, possibly, maybe, to think that these feelings she had for Grant might possibly, maybe lead to something between them?

  Stacey gave herself a mental shake. What the hell did any of that even mean? Did it even make sense? Thank God he wasn’t privy to any of her thoughts, as jumbled as they’d been the past few days.

  She cleared her throat. “I guess that’s Julian for you.”

  They loaded up the last of the supplies she’d brought, and when she was sure they’d left nothing behind, she turned to him. “Thanks for being here tonight. I…uh…that is…”

  She gave herself another mental shake. What was wrong with her? She heaved in a deep breath, and her gaze locked with his. A soft, steady hum started deep in her belly, touching a chord that made her inhale sharply. “I really appreciate it.”

  He stepped toward her. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just…” She tried to pull her gaze from his, but something there tethered her to him.

  “Don’t do that, Stace.”

  “Do what?”

  “Look at me like that.”

  She licked her lips, and his gaze dropped down to her mouth.

  He swallowed. “When you look at me like that, I think things I shouldn’t.”

  His honesty was expected, but there was that hint of vulnerability she’d rarely seen in him over the years, one she knew he shielded from the world. That he would reveal it now…

  Her heartbeat stopped on the edge of hyperdrive. This was her chance to throw herself off the cliff, to glide on the wind and soar. She strangled the logic that insisted she couldn’t defy gravity and would crash to Earth instead.

  “How am I looking at you?” Her voice was breathless, one she barely recognized.

  He grinned, and with Chinaman Hat behind him, he looked breathtakingly gorgeous. “Like you want to take part in my less-than-friendly thoughts.”

  “In an action flick sort of way, or more of a rom-com type?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You sure you really want to know?”

  His voice was low, quiet, his gaze trained on hers with an intensity that sent a shiver chasing down her spine.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  “Oh…well…I…” Stacey blinked, then pulled her gaze to a spot over his shoulder before landing on his again. What was she supposed to say to that?

  Grant shoved a hand through his hair and glanced away. “Look, Stace. I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

  She could turn on an air of bravado, could pretend to misunderstand, or she could finally gather the courage to move the relationship forward.

  She was still contemplating her options when he reached out a hand. He caressed her face before tilting her chin up until their gazes locked. “We don’t need to rock the boat or anything. Okay?”

  What if I want to?

  She wasn’t sure she totally wanted to go there, but it was enough to know that he felt something, too. “Okay,” she said, warmth spreading through her with that knowledge, burning a blaze from where skin touched skin. How she’d never experienced this before with Grant, or anyone else, for that matter, seemed impossible to her, and yet, there it was.

  “Good.” He dropped his hand and his gaze briefly searched hers. “Let’s get this stuff dropped off at Carly’s, then I’ll make sure you get home okay.”

  She forced in a breath to clear her brain. That’s right, they had to go by her sister’s house, where Carly had converted her garage into an industrial kitchen, and where she kept a small storage space for Stacey. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Maybe I want to.”

  Her brain told her he was just being a good friend, but her heart was practically doing cartwheels in her chest. “Grant?”

  “Yeah?”

  Through a hammering heart she swallowed down the case of nerves that’d opened up, then she briefly contemplated backing out. No, she had to plunge forward if she wanted to see where the relationship could go. “What if I told you I don’t think I want to be alone tonight?”

  “In an action flick sort of way or more the rom-com type?”

  He threw her words back at her, his gaze dropping to her mouth before flickering up to capture her eyes again. He oozed testosterone, looked like he could barely control it, too, judging by the way he held himself like he was ready to pounce.

  She mentally fanned herself. Good God, she wasn’t sure she could handle the sexual energy.

  She should make a smart-ass joke out of the whole thing, do whatever it would take to drop the tension that filled the air around them, surrounding them like the clouds that circled the top of Chinaman Hat. At least, that was what a smart woman would do. But, apparently, she was missing a few brain cells at the moment.

  He reached out and traced the outline of her jaw, the smile on his face mirroring the desire in his eyes. “Let’s take this to Carly’s, then we can head over to your place. Whatever you decide from there is fine with me, okay?”

  He was leaving it up to her. So like him to take everything in stride no matter how good—or awful—it was.

  Deep breath. Take a deep breath.

  She willed her body to do what her brain commanded. After all, it wasn’t like he’d never been to her place after one of her events. Just the two of them hanging out on her bed watching a Netflix movie on her laptop. Although there was a pretty sure bet that Netflix in bed wasn’t going to happen tonight.

  The next half hour was a blur, and by the time they’d reached her apartment she was a tangled mass of nerves again. To feel nervous around him was so foreign, she half wondered if the experience would be worth it.

  He stepped into the apartment, the door closing decisively shut. Stacey turned. He leaned with his back against it, all casual, all male, and, if she was brave enough, all hers.

  A corner of his mouth tipped up. “Half an hour until the pizza shows up. What do we do until then?”

  Chapter Ten

  Stacey’s heart was going to gallop out of her chest, she was sure of it.

  “Ummm…” She looked around. “What do you mean?”

  She was stalling. Why was she stalling? And why couldn’t she breathe?

  “I think you know exactly what I mean.” He pushed away from the door and closed the distance between them, stopping a foot away. Far enough to give her space, yet close enough she could feel the heat emanating from him. “Unless you don’t want this, which is totally okay. You know that, right?”

  When she didn’t answer—couldn’t answer—he stepped back and shoved a hand through his hair, momentarily disturbing the loose curls there. “Okay. How about a movie? Out here,” he quickly added. “Maybe you could bring the laptop out and we’ll set it up on the coffee table.”

  “I’ll go get it.” She practically ran to her bedroom, needing a second to get her head on straight. She’d wanted this, right? He was clearly open to the possibility. What was wrong with her?

  The tension between them had eased by the time she returned to the living room. “Who’s turn to pick?”

  “Mine.”

  “Ugh.” She placed her laptop on the coffee table and sagged on the sofa. “I’m not in the mood for an action flick.”

  “And I’m not in the mood for
a rom-com.” He plugged the laptop into an outlet across the room. “How about we random scroll?”

  Random scroll. It’d been at least a couple of months since they’d disagreed on a movie to the point where they’d pulled up Netflix and chosen one by closing their eyes and randomly moving the cursor. Wherever it stopped, that was what they watched. “Are you sure? We could end up with something pretty bad.”

  “Or pretty good.” He shrugged. “We’ve discovered a few decent movies that way.”

  “Good point.” She blew out a breath. What she needed tonight was a distraction. Who really cared if it was something she could get into or not? And even if she couldn’t, they’d established this system years ago, and it’d eliminated conflict since. “Okay, you put your finger on the screen, and I’ll scroll.”

  When Grant was in position, they both closed their eyes. “One, two, three,” she said slowly, then randomly flicked the computer’s mouse.

  “Stop,” Grant said.

  She opened her eyes. “The Big Easy.” She frowned. “It looks old. Have you seen it?”

  “No.” He plopped down on the sofa next to her.

  She scrolled through the description. “Great. A drama.” This just wasn’t going to be her night, was it?

  “You know the rules. We have to watch at least the first half hour before we can nix it for something else.”

  “Who made up that dumb rule, anyway?”

  “You did.” He glanced at his phone. “We’ve got about twenty-five minutes before the pizza arrives, assuming it gets here on time. If we decide to watch something else we can do it then.”

  “It better get here on time,” she grumbled.

  Stacey started the movie and leaned back, realizing too late that she and Grant were practically touching.

  So what? It’s not like she hadn’t ever sat with her head turned into his shoulder while watching a particularly gruesome part of a movie.

  The story started out interestingly enough, if you considered a murder interesting, anyway. Subtitles played along the bottom of the screen, a necessary evil since they were just as likely to talk as to watch.

  “Hey, thanks again for all the help today,” she said. “It made the time go quicker.”

  “No problem. I already told you I didn’t mind.”

  “I just don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you, that’s all.”

  “I don’t feel that way. How’s it possible that Julian’s so ill?” Grant asked after a brief pause. “He doesn’t look it.”

  “He says his attitude is a choice he makes every day. He figures that he’s only got so much time left, and he didn’t want to spend it hurting himself as well as the only woman he’d ever loved.” She sighed. “It’s one of the most romantic things I’ve ever heard.”

  “How’s that romantic?”

  She twisted around to gape at him. “Are you kidding? No matter how awful he feels he’s choosing to live his life the best way he knows how. Not just for himself, but for Martha, the love of his life. That’s romantic.”

  He just shrugged.

  How could some guys totally get that while others, like Grant, remained clueless?

  She settled back into her spot, and they watched the movie in companionable silence, as the female lead—an assistant DA—grilled the cop she was working with.

  “Dennis Quaid was really hot even back then,” Stacey murmured.

  “I suppose. I have a thing for the Anne character, myself.”

  “Well, good. I’d be a bit worried if you had a thing for Dennis Quaid.”

  Grant angled himself so he was turned in her direction, and while she couldn’t see him, she felt him, felt the weight of his stare.

  “What?”

  He shrugged again.

  “Look, either say what’s on your brain or watch the movie, but don’t just stare. It’s unnerving.”

  “Okay, tell me something. Julian and Martha have been married for sixty years. Do you really think they got along every second of that time?”

  That was on his brain? Now? “I thought you didn’t believe in relationships.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  She sighed. “Maybe not every second, but on the whole the good times clearly outweighed the bad. There are plenty of people in great, long-lasting relationships. Not perfect or anything, but seems to me that the love they share with their partner makes it easier to deal with the tough times. Maybe that’s what adds to the bliss.”

  He went quiet and it took everything Stacey had not to look at him.

  “Well,” he finally said. “That sounds like something a girl would think up.”

  In other words, he still didn’t believe it was possible. At least not for him.

  “Hey, you asked for my opinion, and that’s what you got.” She kept her eyes on the screen and her voice as normal as possible. “Why? Are you thinking you might be open to a relationship one of these days?”

  She was pretty sure he couldn’t hear her pounding heart, but she didn’t dare look at him. Probably safer to watch the movie, where the main characters were at some restaurant.

  “Me?” He shook his head. “Hell, no. I was just wondering if there’s a new angle we can take at the brewery. You know, something to draw in the older crowd. Celebrations and such.”

  “Liar.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  She laughed. “I’ve known you forever. You only ask questions like that when you’re curious enough to entertain an idea.”

  “I ask questions to gather information,” he grumbled. “Then I get to reserve judgment on my thoughts about a topic.”

  “Which in this case is about relationships.”

  He stared. She could feel it.

  Stacey grinned. “So, you have to at least admit you’re curious if relationships have staying power.”

  “I’m just saying, how much sense does it make to plan for a future that might never come? There are no guarantees.”

  Groaning, Stacey tucked her foot under her knee and faced him. “Because there aren’t guarantees about anything. Life should be balanced. Does it make sense to spend all your energy on the now without thinking about the future? Nothing about now is guaranteed, either, you know.”

  He grinned at her.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He raised his arms above his head in a stretch that left very little to the imagination when his shirt crept above the top of his jeans and showed off the trail that wandered down to Happy Land.

  Oh, wow. She swallowed.

  “Do you have this kind of discussion with all the guys you date?”

  It was a deflection, but a good one. “Do you?”

  “I don’t date guys,” he answered smoothly. “But you really ought to know that this type of conversation is too heavy for most guys to wrap their heads around. You’re probably scaring them off.”

  Never mind that he started it. She sighed. “I need a guy who can keep up with me. Is that such a bad thing?”

  “Do you want a guy or a racehorse?”

  “How about a guy who’s hung like a horse? Who’s got more than a few brain cells and knows how to laugh, too?”

  “Sounds like a challenge.”

  “You have no idea.” She shifted back and tried to follow the movie instead of the line of thinking that would lead her straight into imagining just how well-endowed Grant would be. Gulp. “Are we watching this or what?”

  They settled back in, but she could barely concentrate, could barely follow along given her proximity to Grant, to the fact that the only reason they were sitting on the couch was because they couldn’t set foot in her bedroom without things getting…intimate.

  “You cold?” Grant leaned over and brushed strands of hair from where they’d fallen across her face, then bumped his shoulder against hers. “I could grab a blanket if you like.”

  And he would, too. That was the way he’d been for years, that’s what made him so comfortable to be around, that�
��s what made him such a good, reliable friend. Only, tonight he didn’t feel like just a friend. He felt like more. So much more.

  “I’m fine.” She smiled up at him. “I was just thinking that it feels good to have you here.” Yeah, it did. It felt good. It felt right. But she could think of something that’d feel even better.

  “Funny. I was thinking the same thing.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah.” He reached for her hand and locked their fingers, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand in an absentminded fashion.

  Still, there was something about the way he did it, with his gaze glued to her laptop like he was completely fascinated by the story playing out on it, even though a part of her suspected he wasn’t seeing a thing. Was she wrong about all this?

  On the screen the main characters argued…and then Remy, the Dennis Quaid character, planted himself in front of Anne, effectively trapping her to the chair she sat in. Tension crackled in the air around them, and he leaned forward, his face inches from hers.

  Desire and passion registered, and Stacey held her breath, the scene so sensual she couldn’t help herself. Remy closed the remaining few inches between them, capturing Anne in a kiss so intense that Stacey shivered, because the characters weren’t just kissing, but kissing.

  “Did I miss something?” Grant asked beside her. “I thought this was a pseudo-thriller movie.”

  “It is.” It just apparently had some very hot, very sexy bits in it, too. Bonus.

  Remy and Anne were now in bed, and Stacey’s fuck-me meter shot up, every cell in her body on hyperalert. They knelt and kissed and touched, skin against skin, mouths meeting, then pulling away as Remy made his way down Anne’s neck to her shoulder, probably not caring that her clothes were in the way, from the looks of things.

  Beside her Grant remained silent, but the pressure on her hand increased, the circles he drew with his thumb were more intense, the feeling erotic and sending traces of awareness skipping up her arm. It probably helped that she sat so close to him—she was practically in his lap. She fought the need to squirm, to assuage that perfect spot between her legs that throbbed with need.