Page 77 of For Love Or Honey

“Because I gave up my job?”

“Because you did the right thing, knowing you’d lose me. Your job too, and your father. You abandoned everything you loved to save us, to protect us. Grant, I don’t let anyone in, and neither do you. But I saw you, not the man who stood on a podium talking about diesel in an Italian suit. Even if it started off as a game, what’s between us is real. I knew it even then, I was just … it hurt. And it was easier to let you go than admit that despite it all, how you felt about me was as real as the earth or the sky or Salma’s biscuits.”

A chuckle made it past the clamp on my throat, and I held her face, lifting it so I could peer into her eyes.

“Come back to me, Grant. Because this … this isn’t where you belong. This isn’t your home.”

“No, it’s not. I’m not even sure I know where home is.”

“It’s where I am.”

I couldn’t speak.

“I want to show you what that word means, home. I want to show you what it means to have a family, to have a place to belong. You told me once you wanted to take care of me.”

“And you told me you could take care of yourself.”

“But I was wrong. I thought I could be alone and happy, and maybe before you that was true. But not anymore. I need you. I want to take care of you like you want to take care of me. I want to love you and be loved by you. Will you come with me? Will you come home?”

“Lead the way,” I said before kissing her to cover the ache deep in my ribcage, a blissful, disbelieving ache.

When the kiss ended, I smiled down at her.

“Think Salma’s rented out my room?”

“I know she hasn’t, but I’ve got a better idea.”

“Oh?”

“How about you come stay at the farm?”

“I don’t know if I can share a bathroom with your sisters.”

Her laughter was a pair of wings on my heart. “We can stay in one of the cottages out back of the house.”

I thumbed her cheek. “We?”

“Too soon?” she asked, her brows coming together in the slightest of shifts.

It was my turn to laugh. “Since when did you and I take anything slow?”

“Good,” she said with a sigh and a smile that faded almost as soon as it had appeared. “What about your job?”

“I don’t know if you realize this, but I don’t actually have to work.”

“Did I just land a sugar daddy?”

We were both laughing as she wrapped herself around me like a cartoon character. “You did.”

“Except in blue jeans and boots? On a farm?” She pretended to try to climb me, and I helped her up until her legs were around my waist.

“Yup. But I’m keeping the car.”

Smiling, she leaned in. “Wouldn’t have you any other way.”

And with something so simple as a kiss, I left my old world behind for the one I’d only dreamed about.

For her.

32

The Score

JO

I shifted the box in my arms, blowing a lock of hair out of my face.

“For someone who didn’t feel like DC was home, you sure do have a lot of shit.”

Grant laughed, taking the box from me when I reached the bedroom. “Would you judge me if I told you it’s mostly suits?”

“You know I would.”

“I don’t even know why I brought them. I’m not even sure if they’ll all fit in this closet.” He eyed it skeptically, setting the box next to its buddies on the floor.

“You’re renovating my closet in your head, aren’t you.”

“Maybe.”

“You sure it’s going to be enough for you, living here in a lowly little farm cottage?”

He strode to me, smiling. “It’s more than enough. You’re here. Everything else is just details.”

“Sweet talker,” I said, threading my arms around his waist when he approached.

“Except it’s true.”

“How’s that feel, being honest?” I teased.

“If I said I’ve never been happier, would you believe me?”

“Only because I feel the same.”

Rather than answer, he took a moment to kiss me long and slow and easy.

The last week had been a whirl. I’d stayed in DC for a handful of days while we packed Grant up and waited for the movers to come. He’d shown me around the city, taken me to his favorite restaurants, even suffered through the touristy things like the Mall and museums. I’d met some of his friends at a bar one night, and I think it was weirder for Grant than it was for me. They didn’t seem to understand why he was leaving or what he’d do with himself but were amused enough by me that it wasn’t too awfully weird.

It was no wonder he had no ties here if those were his closest friends.

He put his place on the market, and we packed our things in one suitcase, throwing it into his trunk and leaving DC in the rearview.

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