Page 82 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell

Eric gritted his teeth, cursing himself for letting her get to him. Gracie and Mike had both told him they didn’t feel anything more than friendship. He had no reason to be jealous. Kirsten was just being a bitch.

Then why hasn’t she texted you all day if things are better between you?

Little needles of doubt wiggled through his brain the rest of the night, and he tried not to think about it, tried not to let his imagination go crazy. He texted her as he was walking out the door.

On my way home. You staying at your placetonight?

He got into his car and drove, waiting for the notification ding that never came. He was getting agitated, especially when he drove by her place and didn’t see her car. The crazy part of his brain told him to drive by Mike’s house, but the not-a-jealous-bastard side went straight home instead.

When he pulled into the drive, Gracie’s car was parked in front, and his heart thumped in relief. He got out and moved quickly into the house, feeling like the world’s biggest asshole for checking up on her.

She was curled up on his couch asleep, the TV on one of the movie channels. Fuzz was sleeping across her legs, his chin resting on her butt. Eric peeked over at her, wrapped up in a blanket and his T-shirt. She was the best thing in the world he could possibly come home to. He reached down and rubbed Fuzz’s head until the dog jumped down.

Eric came around the front of the couch and lifted her slowly into his arms. He was always amazed at how small she was, how light and delicate. She was such a pistol that most of the time, she seemed larger than life.

She snuggled into his chest and whispered drowsily, “You’re home.”

Damn, but he liked the way she said that. “Yeah, baby, I’m home.”

A soft snore was his answer, and he carried her back to his bedroom, slipping her gently under the covers. He undressed quietly and reached out for her. She snuggled against him, and he was so tempted to say the words he’d been holding back all week, but he resisted. He needed to learn how to be patient.

* * *

Gracie woke up the next morning in Eric’s bed, wrapped up in a tangle of long arms and legs. She smiled at the familiar smell of his cologne and wiggled closer to him. She’d stayed late at Michael’s, talking about everything that had been going on with them, and when she’d left, all she could think of was being with Eric. She hadn’t realized she’d left her phone at The Local Bean until she’d reached into her purse to call Eric and let him know she was heading to his house. She hadn’t felt like going to the shop to get it and had continued out to his house to wait for him.

This week had flipped something inside her. When Eric had taken care of her without expecting anything in return, and after the way she’d behaved with him, she’d realized she needed to be better. To stop letting fear of being hurt determine the direction of her romantic life.

But was she ready to think about an actual relationship with Eric?

Little needles of jealously stabbed at her when she thought of another woman waking up with him every morning, making dinner with him until food was forgotten and all they hungered for was each other. Another woman who would call him on his bullshit and bear his children. Another woman who would kiss him fifty times a day and grow old with him.

The thought of Eric with anyone else made her ill, but no matter how much she cared, she wasn’t sure if they were right for each other. It had to go beyond just feelings and down to what they both wanted for the future. She had been too afraid to ask any heavy questions about kids, afraid he’d think she was trying to move fast. A month was not long to date someone, and definitely too soon to start talking about marriage.

Unless you know that person is the right one.

She frowned at herself. Romantic craziness got you into trouble, and that was trouble she didn’t need. They were happy right now. No sense in rocking the boat.

And her feelings for him were definitely different from anything she’d ever felt before. She just wasn’t sure yet what to do with them except to treat him with all the respect and care that he’d done for her. That was a good start.

She slipped out of his arms to make breakfast. Fuzz got up to go with her.

When she reached the door, his voice stopped her. “Where are you off to?”

She turned toward him. He looked blurry-eyed and ornery and sexy. She couldn’t stop the goofy smile that spread across her mouth. “I was going to make us food.”

He shook his head. “Forget it. You’ve been sick all week and don’t need to strain yourself. Come back to bed, and we’ll get donuts later.” He held his arms out. “Hurry up, woman, it’s freezing without you.”

“Well, gee, since you asked so nicely.” She walked back to the bed and crawled into his arms. His big hand played with her hair and ran down her back, over the cotton of his T-shirt.

“How was work?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It was work. People got drunk, acted stupid, and I called them a cab. What did you do yesterday? Somebody said they saw your car parked at Mike Stevens’s.”

She looked up to see his expression. His eyes were closed and his face was relaxed. “Yeah, I went there after I spent the afternoon with my mom. We exchanged Christmas gifts and talked.” Several moments ticked by before she prodded, “Who said they saw my car?”

“I don’t know. I think it was Kirsten.” His voice held something she couldn’t place.

She leaned up on an elbow and tried teasing. “Were you jealous?”

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