Page 19 of Sizzling Desire

Her eyes narrow, suspicion flickering across her face. “You couldn’t give it to her yourself?”

“She’s busy,” I say with a shrug. “Besides, I figured it’d be safer in your hands.”

Grace snorts, leaning back in her chair, arms crossing over her chest. “Safer, huh? You do realize the last thing I want is to babysit your half-assed contributions to this wedding.”

I can’t help but grin. Her sharp tongue is like a shot of adrenaline, and I’m a junkie for the way she gets under my skin. “Now, Gracie, don’t sell yourself short. You’re clearly the brains of this operation.”

“Don’t call me Gracie,” she snaps, her tone laced with irritation.

“That’s what you’re latching onto?” I tease, dropping the folder onto her desk with a satisfying thud. “Not the part where I just complimented you?”

She rolls her eyes, flipping the folder open and scanning its contents. “Flattery doesn’t work on me, Kane. You should know that by now.”

“Who says I was flattering you?”

Her gaze snaps to mine, and for a moment, the air between us tightens, electric and heavy. There’s a spark of something in her eyes—annoyance, sure, but also heat. A flicker of the fire that’s always there, just beneath the surface.

She breaks the stare first, her attention droppingback to the folder. “This is useless,” she mutters, flipping through the pages. “You couldn’t even bother to organize it?”

“I thought I’d leave that to the expert,” I say, my voice low enough to draw her attention back to me.

Her lips press into a thin line, and I can tell she’s biting back a retort. “Why are you really here, Kane?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and loaded.

I could tell her the truth—that I needed to see her, that she’s been in my head nonstop since that night, and it’s driving me insane. But instead, I shrug, keeping my expression easy. “Just doing my duty as best man.”

She snorts again, but there’s something softer in her eyes now. “If this is your version of duty, remind me never to let you plan anything important.”

I lean against the edge of her desk, close enough to see the way her pulse flutters at her throat. “You wound me, Gracie.”

“Stop calling me that,” she says, her voice sharper now, like she’s trying to regain control.

“Why?” I ask, tilting my head. “It suits you.”

Her glare could cut glass, but she doesn’t move away, and that’s the thing about Grace—she’ll push back, every single time, but she’ll never back down.

“Anything else?” she asks, her tone cold even as her gaze flickers to my mouth for the briefest second.

I should leave. The smart thing would be to walk out of here and keep my distance, but I’m not smart when it comes to her.

Instead, I reach out, my fingers brushing hers as I tap the folder. “Make sure Kate gets this, will you?”

Her breath hitches, her eyes flick up to meet mine, and for a split second, I see it—the crack in her armor, the way her resolve wavers. For a second, there’s a flicker of something beneath the sarcasm. Something softer, unguarded. Then it’s gone, replaced by the usual razor-sharp edge.

“Fine,” she says, her voice tight.

She flips through the papers in the folder, but her focus isn’t there. Her movements are distracted, her shoulders tense. Her pen taps against the desk like she’s trying to ground herself.

“You good, Gracie?” I ask, keeping my tone casual even as my chest tightens at the sight of her so... unsettled.

Her head snaps up again, her eyes narrowing. “What’s with the sudden concern? Trying out a new personality?”

I shrug, holding her gaze. “Just an observation. You seem... off.”

She hesitates, the pen stilling in her hand. For a moment, I think she might say something real, something honest, but then her walls snap back into place.

“Maybe I’m just allergic to bullshit,” she says, her tone light but pointed. “And you’re giving off strong vibes.”

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