Page 27 of Paths

“I am,” he answers into my fridge as he pulls out a container of left-over garlic mushroom quinoa. He opens it, sticks his nose in and grimaces before quickly covering it, returning it to the shelf. “Hurry up. Looks like we need to get breakfast on the way.”

“I don’t have time to make a stop. You can go on your own since you’re leaving.” I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing, but after last night, I don’t need to add to my worries by dragging Grady into the mess that’s my life.

He turns, looking back to me. “You’re still not wearing pants, Maya.”

“Holy shit,” I exhale, giving up. I step back and slam the door. At least I can get dressed. If he wants to hang out here all day, so be it, but he’s not coming to work with me.

I pull up my jeans as fast as I can and rip off my sweater and tank. Throwing on a bra and clean shirt as fast as I can, I brush my teeth, pull my hair back into a tie, and grab my mascara. I can at least swipe lip gloss on while at a stoplight. It’ll have to be enough for today.

When I throw open the bedroom door, Grady is standing by the entrance of my bungalow looking intently at his phone. I ignore him as best I can and go to the fridge, grabbing a protein shake and an apple. This will have to do.

“See ya later.” I try for casual as I breeze past him, grabbing my bag and open the front door.

“Moo.”

“What the hell. These cows are everywhere,” Grady mutters from behind me.

He’s right. It’s not unusual for one or more of Addy’s cows to stray and show up on my doorstep.

“I think it’s Harry,” I say, looking at the huge beast standing between me and my car. The longer I’m here, the more I understand Addy’s fascination with her farm pets. They’re friendly and sweet, not nearly as intimidating as they were when I first moved here. They do, however, still smell like cows.

Grady ignores Harry and grabs the keys from my hand to lock my front door. Jogging down my steps he moves around Harry, who bellows another greeting. Since I can’t escape without my keys, I’m forced to follow and move around our visitor.

“Hey, give those back,” I complain when he pockets them and reaches for my hand.

Distracted by Harry, I didn’t see the huge SUV parked right next to my little car. It’s an Escalade—shiny black and chrome from top to bottom. The windows are tinted, the wheels are big and fancy, and for some reason all I can wonder is how he keeps it this clean out here on all these county roads. My tiny economy car, that I traded my practically new BMW for on my trip south, is always filthy.

Before I know it, he opens the passenger door and turns to me, expecting me to climb in.

I pull my hand out of his. “Give me my keys.”

“Moo.”

“Get in the truck,” he returns.

All of a sudden, I have a big wet nose in my ear, making me yelp. When I look over, all I see is Harry’s face. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was snuggling up to me.

I step away, not wanting to smell like a cow for the rest of the day, and yank my purse strap up my arm. “I’m not getting in your truck. Look, I’m sorry I kissed you last night. I was trying to get rid of Weston, but now I realize all I did was drag you into my mess. And my mess isn’t just with Weston. My mess is with him, his family, his work, and my mother. Trust me when I say, you do not want to be anywhere near my mess. Run, Grady. Run the other way, and fast. I’ve dealt with them for a long time—I’ll figure it out on my own.”

Grady says nothing for a moment before he takes a step, closing the distance between us. Reaching up, he tucks a stray section of hair behind my ear that escapes my pony tail on the best of days, let alone when I’ve thrown myself together haphazardly.

He lowers his voice as he cups my jaw with his hand. “You ready for me to ask you questions?”

I lift my hand to pull his away, but it doesn’t work. “No.”

“Why’s that guy such an asshole?”

I bite my lip and say nothing. Even if I wanted to answer, there are too many examples of Weston being an asshole for me to list. I wouldn’t know where to start.

“Why are you hiding out in Virginia?”

I give my head a tiny shake. I’m not ready to answer that, either.

He narrows his eyes and his voice softens. “Who’s Joseph?”

I bite my lip again to keep from showing any emotion, but I can’t control my heart from racing. In the back of my mind, I’m more worried about Joseph than myself. Especially after Weston threatened him.

“Maya?” he calls for me again.

---