H
ad the evening in the pub been one decibel quieter, Tasha was sure everyone would have turned to her when the glass slipped from her hand and hit the floor. She was only grateful she hadn’t already filled the cup. She should have reached for the small broom and dustpan, but she couldn’t breathe, much less move, her gaze fixed on the pub’s entrance.
Grant stood with his arm slung over a woman’s shoulder, wearing a grin and a glint in his eye. The Black woman’s hair was a thick, curly dark shade of auburn. Even with the distance and tawny shade of her skin, Tasha could make out a few freckles along the bridge of her nose and a scattering that traced the top of her high cheekbones. She was beautiful and smiling at Grant like…
The burn of a stare heated her face. She searched for it and found Douglass frowning at her. She swallowed, considering her options. She could stand there and try to act like Grant waltzing into the Drunken Barrel with another woman didn’t sting—no, didn’t feel like he’d just drop kicked her heart. Or she could act like something very urgent needed her attention in the back room.
Tasha cleared her throat, “Could you?” she gestured to the waiting patrons.
Douglass waved her off but muttered, “It’s not what you think, lassie.”
She trudged to the back and skirted down the hallway to the storage closet. In the dark, she reached out for a shelf then leaned and breathed.
The shock of seeing Grant with another woman faded until the edges stopped biting into her mind. A CFO, used to getting whatever he wanted with a snap of his fingers, would be petty enough to bring another woman around to rub into her face. A man who didn’t lose sleep at night over a lover abandoning her dream would also be totally fine parading around a rebound lover.
But that wasn’t the whole of Grant Cameron. Or maybe her stupid heart had finally swayed her head. She didn’t know, but the confusion didn’t diminish the unexpected punch to her gut.
“So why the fuck is he walking in with another woman?”
The door creaked open, filling the enclosed space with light. There he stood, a scowl on his face. “Aye, right,” Grant growled. “I’m going to choke him.”
“Who?” is all she could say, shocked to see him and maybe a little embarrassed he’d caught her hiding.
“Baird. Sent me to get a broom. Even though I know we have one right behind the counter.” And then he frowned. “What are you doing in here, in the dark?”
She couldn’t tell him she had been blindsided by jealousy, hurt and…regret. “Um, I—Well, I needed a moment.”
Not a lie, and so not the truth. He came into the room, closing the door behind him and throwing them back into darkness.
“You saw me come into the pub, didn’t you?”
She heard a shuffle of steps and the light clicked on. His gaze went to her face, and she knew he would detail every single twitch. Her choices became so very clear in that moment. She could put on a brave face and lie through her teeth. Or she could be more like Grant, vulnerable and honest as though she had nothing to hide. She owed him that at least.
Still, she had to swallow. “I saw you walk into the pub with a woman on your arm, and it was like getting punched in the gut.”
His jaw worked. “So, once again you thought I was an arse?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“You weren’t thinking?”
The explanation didn’t sound any better when he repeated it. “You walking in with another woman simply blind-sided me and all I could do was feel.”
“Feel?”
“Seeing you with her, whoever she is, threw me. Had me in my feels. Up to my eyeballs. And given yesterday I really don’t have a right—”
“Let me stop you there. You never even asked if you could have the right. Never demanded I be yours and yours only. Yet, I gave that to you anyway.”
“We weren’t supposed to fall in love. I’m leaving. This isn’t my home. I shouldn’t care. And still it hurt.” Her breath shuddered out because tears threatened to fall. “Damn you, Grant.”
He opened his mouth then clamped it shut then he tipped her chin up with his finger. “You’re cursing me? Me?” He didn’t sound angry, just amused.
She couldn’t help it, not with him so close. Tasha closed her fingers around his wrist. “I’m sorry.”
He dropped his hand, blowing out a breath. “You said you’re leaving.”
“I always was.”
“No. You said it like you had a date in mind.” His eyes were…
She’d never seen someone look so sad without being on the verge tears. She balled her hand to keep from touching his face. “Had you asked me last night, I would have said in a few weeks.”
“What’s changed your mind?”
“A shitty night of sleep for one. Even during the week you were gone, I hadn’t felt so lonely.” She had to stop and just breathe, because saying that much was…dear gawd, how did he do this all the damn time? “And last night, I couldn’t help but feel like that one scene from Indiana Jones. The one where the guy just punches a hole in someone’s chest and takes out their heart, while it’s still beating.”
“Not an incredibly accurate depiction, but I get the gist.”
She put a hand to her chest because her heart was racing.
“You still don’t trust me.”
Vulnerable. Honesty. It’s all she had even though the way her heart was pounding it was going to be the death of her. “I don’t trust myself. Not after what happened with my ex. All the signs were there, but I was so damned determined to get my happily ever after. And it would have been an unmitigated disaster.”
“I’m not him.”
“Believe me, I know. You don’t bloviate, for one.”
He considered her, looking so uncertain, then sighed. “Didn’t Mia tell you she met my sister Isla a few months ago? My sister, who is biracial.”
Tasha pursed her lips because Mia had told her. The two thoughts hadn’t connected—Grant wouldn’t be that kind of arse, and he had a biracial sister. All Tasha could see was Grant making his mushy emotional face at a beautiful woman. A woman who wasn’t Tasha, less than twenty-four hours after their argument.
“I see,” she said simply. “The red hair should have been a dead giveaway.”
“Maybe, if you weren’t blinded by jealousy.”
He sounded so…pleased. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Immensely.”
“Jealousy is an ugly emotion.”
“You felt it anyway. And you told me.” He sighed again, shoving a hand into his jeans’s pocket. “You told me a lot, and I’m trying to get through it all.”
She could understand. She hated that she could, and still she nodded. “An apology is great, but changed behavior is better. I can’t take back how I treated you last night.”
He remained quiet for a moment. “Do I look as pained as you do when I’m being open and honest?”
She laughed. “No, you do not.” There was a lot to process for the both of them it seemed. Still… “Is Isla okay? Wait. Are you going to need your room back? I can find somewhere else—”
Grant shook his head. “I found us another place before picking her up. As far as if she’s okay…I don’t know.” He ran his hands through his hair, tension pulling the skin tight along his cheekbones.
God. How much she wanted to step forward and just hold him. Fighting the urge hurt so much she had to shove her hands into her pockets and ball her fists. “Are you okay?”
“You might be the only person to ask me if I am.”
“Are you?” she pushed.
“No, but my sister needs me, so I’ll…” He shrugged.
Once again, silence fell between them. “If you need me for anything, ask me.”
“Can you please take the Baird the broom? I don’t have it in me for another round with him. Kincaid hasn’t said anything to me about…” He shook his head. “I just want to focus on my sister.”
Did he realize how alone he sounded? How tired? “So what you want is for me to leave this A+ hiding real estate so you can have it for yourself? I see how it is.”
He looked around then made a face. “You could have hidden in the distillery. At least there’s whisky.”
She grabbed the boom. “I think my hiding days are over.”