Page 65 of Right With You
Maybe it was because he’d been eating in front of me for months? Maybe because he’d proven to be protective but not bossy, careful but not coddling, and this might’ve made me pathetic but I felt it down to my toes… he seemed to want me. I didn’t know to what extent, but he seemed to genuinely enjoy being around me, choose to be around me, and not have a list of things he’d like me to change. Maybe it could simply be what it was—the distraction I’d set out for it to be, the fantasy come to life, for now. The first mission had been accomplished—Callum had seen us very clearly together. And the rest…
Luc and I didn’t make sense on paper any more than we did in real life, but in this little fairytale I’d gotten caught up in? Maybe I could let myself enjoy it. Since I already knew we had an ending, it wouldn’t be a surprise. I also wouldn’t—literallycouldn’t—get swept up in something that turned rotten.
A practically perfect plan.
“Luc’s a great guy. I say that confidently,” Jess said, and her knowledge of him both as a Saint employee now and a former EMU member meant a lot.
“He really is,” Jo agreed.
“He’s one of Kenny’s favorite people on Earth, so that speaks well of him,” Liz said, her smile fond.
“I don’t know exactly how this will play out. But maybe I just… enjoy it.”
They all cheered, and I laughed, joy filling me to the brim as I embraced their excitement and, maybe even better, my own.
Now to find out what Luc had to say about it.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
Luc
Two days after the gala, Jenna left. Most of the celebrities who’d flown in were gone and the Saint workload eased.
I’d hardly seen Elise. She’d been at her book club last night and I’d stayed up chatting with Aurelie and Michele, but by the time she got home, I’d passed out in the bed.
Our bed.
I also woke up in that bed. Yesterday, she’d slipped out before I’d roused—I’d gotten to report into my shift a bit later in the morning, so I’d taken advantage of that freedom after the last night at the gala. This morning?
The minty-sweet scent of her hair was the first thing I sensed. Then the warmth of her body pressed to mine—warmer than I was used to, and yet I didn’t want her to move. She could sleep with her leg rucked up over my hips any old time.
Might be a touch problematic in some ways, but for the moment, I let myself enjoy breathing her in, the faint sounds of her own breath, and the pleasure of her contact and pressure against me.
Once my mind got creative, I forced myself out of bed and prepared for the day. Grand-père, Aurelie, and Michele would leave tomorrow, and I’d need to at least attempt to initiate contact, but I didn’t particularly want to.
What I wanted most was to talk with Elise. After tomorrow, there would be no reason for her to stay here, would there?
Of course not. And that was why I couldn’t let us get through the whole day without talking about what happened when we didn’t need to pretend anymore.
Right as I’d gotten dressed, my doorbell rang. Could be another ambush from Kenny, but since I had plans to meet him and Stone—and for once Beast now that Jess was back on her own two feet—for afternoon tea, I doubted it.
Opening the door proved me right—on the welcome mat stood my grandfather.
His silver-gray eyes and unreadable face peered at me.
“Please. Come in.” I stepped back to give him space and he took it, still not speaking.
“Coffee?” I asked, knowing he’d likely been up for several hours.
“Non, merci.”
His gaze traveled around the kitchen, then the living room, the weight of his judgment heavy whenever he paused or jutted out his chin when he noticed something particularly American, no doubt.
“Why are you here, Grand-père?”
If he heard the exhaustion in my voice, he didn’t point it out. “I’ve extended my trip. I don’t fly back until Thursday, and neither do Aurelie and Michele.”
Why was I surprised? He did what he wanted without consulting me. Perhaps more surprising was that I didn’t mind. In fact, it gave me more time with Elise, more time I absolutely wanted, and perhaps more time for me to help him see my perspective.
