Page 15 of Cowboy of Convenience
The freaking thing smelled like Grady and it only made her want to scream more.
Because she fucking liked it. Because she was tempted to pull another lungful of the Grady-scented fabric into her body.
Instead, she launched the thing across the room, relaxing a little when it bounced off the wall and hit the floor. Then she noticed she was lying in the exact same spot Grady had slept and a tiny thrill tickled her belly.
Her body was off the couch almost as quickly as the pillow sailed across the room. She stared down at the high-end piece, contemplating what to do with it. No way would she be able to stare at it every day, knowing how Grady’s big body looked draped across it. She had to stop thinking of him. Stop the flip her belly did every time her brain conjured up his likeness.
Maybe she should burn the damn thing. Leave it on the curb for someone else to snatch up.
Maybe reupholstering it would be enough to keep her mind from reminding her whose well-muscled body once graced its surface.
The possibilities made her head hurt almost as much as Sasha’s presence did.
She turned away, one palm pressed across her forehead as she went to the bathroom, popped a couple of anti-inflammatories, and dropped onto her bed, pulling a non-Grady scented pillow over her aching skull. She'd slept like shit the night before, tossing and turning knowing Sasha was right across the street. Lurking. Waiting for an opportunity to force her back into the life she was relegated to at birth.
Everyone thought they wanted what she had, but that was only because they weren't trapped in it. Weren't staring down a lifetime of being forced to do what someone else decided and expected.
And that someone else expected her to marry a man they deemed acceptable, spit out a couple of his children, and smile politely through events and parties. That was it. She was simply supposed to be nothing more than a talking head who went around preserving her family's reputation and maintaining the connections securing their position as one of the most prestigious families of the east coast.
The Kennedys wished they were the Warwicks.
As far as she was concerned, they could have them. What was the point of having all the money you could ever want when you couldn't use it to do the things that would make you happy?
Not that she actually knew what those things were. But, up to this point, doing the exact opposite of what was expected had gotten her pretty damn close.
Evelyn rolled onto her back, flipping the pillow off her face to stare up at the ceiling. Maybe her time had finally run out. Maybe her grandmother was tired of her bullshit and it was game over.
If that was the case, hopefully her grandmother had better sense than to try to force her to marry Sasha again.
* * *
"YOU GO TO bed pretty early for a city girl."
Evelyn sat up straight, horror movie style, as she sucked in a breath.
Grady stood in the doorway of her bedroom, one arm leaned against the frame and a beer in his hand.
Was she hallucinating? Did she accidentally pop the wrong kind of pills before laying down and passing out? "How did you get in here?"
"Key under the mat." Grady took a sip of his beer. "We should talk about that, by the way. Not a safe place to keep something like that."
Evelyn continued staring at him, still not convinced she was awake. "Whyare you in here?"
Grady straightened off the frame, looking completely different than he did last night. His uniform was replaced by a pair of worn jeans and a T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest, revealing a set of pecs that had been all but obscured by the protective vest he wore for work. "Figured it would raise suspicion if I didn't come home tonight." He lifted his drink. "You want a beer?"
"Yes." She absolutely needed one. Desperately if Grady planned to sleep on her couch again.
"Hope you like Modelo." Grady turned toward the hallway but paused, glancing back at her over one shoulder. "I brought us home some dinner too."
She stared after him as he disappeared, a little flabbergasted.
He brought home dinner?
Evelyn scooted off the edge of the bed, stretching as her bare feet hit the floor. She'd accidentally fallen asleep in her yoga wear, so she adjusted the fit of her bralette as she walked down the hall, making sure both her boobs were appropriately contained.
She entered the tiny kitchen at the back of the house to find her small table covered in take-out. The scent of cumin and cilantro hung in the air, making her belly growl. "Did you bring Mexican?"
Grady opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer, popping it open with some sort of tool thing hooked to his belt before passing it off. "It sounded good. I haven't eaten yet today and I was starving."
