Beauty and the Brooding Boss. Barbara WallaceЧитать онлайн книгу.
torches had been lit, and the sunset was a spectacular tribute to the power of life moving on.
If it hadn’t been for the ocean of devastation spread before them, he might’ve envisioned they were on a date at a swanky seaside hotel.
“Feel good about what we found today?” The question was as lame as everything else he’d done around her lately, but at least it wasn’t in any way confrontational.
She nodded. “I’d hoped to find more books without water damage, but considering how much rain fell not just during the storm but since, it’s a miracle any survived.”
“Sorry.” He hated seeing her sad.
“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but...”
“I get it.” The situation was what it was. In time, the town would be rebuilt, Jessie’s classroom reimagined in a new location. The loss was overwhelming, but thankfully, very few lives had been lost—most on the highway where travelers hadn’t had time to seek shelter.
“Wonder where everyone is?”
“Am I not company enough?” He’d meant his question to be light, but somewhere his joking tone got lost in translation.
Her smile was slow, but once she’d fully abandoned herself to the gesture, he was lost. The setting sun transformed her golden hair into a halo and he stilled just to drink her in. Warm, brown eyes and a slight build that’d felt so damned good against him. He could’ve held her forever—had always thought he would. But for them, forever hadn’t lasted. And now, in two weeks’ time, he would leave again.
Gazing upon her now, he selfishly wished he’d been away on a mission when his parents’ call for help had come. Because he’d been far better off with Jessie out of his life. Now he feared never wanting to let her go—but the craziest part about that was she’d never really been his.
* * *
AFTER DINNER, JESSIE hightailed it to her room.
The guys were engrossed in an old Clint Eastwood Western, and her mother and Rose were playing cards.
Once again being seated alongside Grady for dinner had been painful. He’d smelled so good—of manly soap and a delicious citrus aftershave. Instead of eating her mother’s lasagna, she’d wanted to gobble him.
When someone knocked on her door, her pulse raced.
Her mother poked her head through the door, sending Jessie’s spirits into a downward spiral. “Ladybug, I know you’ve had a busy day, so I hate doing this, but I need you to drive into Norman.”
“Norman?” Even without traffic, it was a good twenty-minute trip. Weaving through all the cordoned-off roads and debris piles would make it thirty to forty minutes. “Why?”
Her mom clutched her chest. “I’m having awful heartburn, and the only thing that’ll help is that special almond milk I like, but you know the only place to get it is at that fancy health food store. Oh—and take my car. With all the debris, I want you to have four-wheel drive.”
“Mom...is that store even open? And you know I don’t like driving after dark. I have TUMS. Let me grab you some, and I promise to run to the store first thing in the morning.”
Still clutching her chest, Billy Sue winced. “Oh—I called, and the store’s open till ten. Plus, I already thought about your poor night vision. Grady’s driving. He sees perfectly at night—well, he’d pretty much have to with all of that covert, black-op activity he’s involved in. Very exciting, huh?”
Grady ambled down the hall in their direction. “Just grabbing my wallet, Mrs. Long, then I’m good to go.”
“Mom!” Jessie whispered under her breath while Grady was in his room. “You don’t have heartburn. This is some wacky setup attempt to get me and Grady to spend time together, isn’t it?”
Billy Sue gasped. “Jessie Anne, that’s insulting. Why would I manipulate my own daughter?”
Oh, Jessie could think of any number of reasons, but recognized the futility of bringing them up now.
Back to clutching her chest, Billy Sue cried, “The pain’s so bad. Ladybug, you have to go. You know how hard my almond milk is to find. Grady’s going to need your help.”
Jessie rolled her eyes. “All right, Mom, calm down. We’re going.”
When Grady emerged from his room, Billy Sue miraculously recovered long enough to fish her car keys and a twenty from her bra. “Here, take these!” She jingled the keys and money at him.
The sound was Cotton’s signal that it was time for a car ride, and he danced at Billy Sue’s feet.
“Mom!” Beyond mortified, Jessie snatched the bulging OU key ring—not the money—then wiped it off on her dress. “Gross!”
Her mother clutched her chest. “The pain! It’s so bad!”
Jessie took Grady by his arm, dragging him from the nuthouse formerly known as her childhood home.
Outside, she said, “Sorry about this. I’m ninety-nine percent sure this is a misguided matchmaking attempt, but there is that sliver of possibility that Mom’s really sick.”
“How about the fact that you have trouble driving after dark? Another fib?”
She wrinkled her nose, then held out the keys. “Unfortunately, no. Are you okay to drive Mom’s SUV?”
“Sure—although for the record, I’ve driven smaller tanks.” He took the keys, pressed the keyless remote, then opened her door. “And don’t sweat the whole matchmaking thing. I had the same thought when my mom told me the dire nature of the situation.”
“What tipped you off?”
“The fact that the whole time your mom stood in the middle of the family room, moaning and clutching her chest, your father’s only reaction was to turn up the TV. Cotton didn’t even wake up until Billy Sue headed upstairs.”
“I really am sorry.” Jessie climbed in alongside him. She’d ridden beside her mother a hundred times, but with Grady behind the wheel, everything changed. The vehicle usually seemed roomy—but his mere presence, and their past, loomed between them as if a third person sat in the middle.
“Don’t be.”
“Why not? Now that I think about it, I’m more than a little miffed that Mom would pull a stunt like this.”
“Seriously—” he backed out of the driveway, then hit the neighborhood road “—don’t sweat it.” He lowered his window.
She welcomed the breeze. Fresh air had never hurt a situation.
“Let’s just get this over with.”
Now Jessie needed an antacid. Grady’s clipped tone alerted her to the fact that for him, there was no statute of limitations on hurt feelings. She’d hoped to at least pass the time with small talk, but it looked as though the only thing small in this car was Grady’s capacity for forgiveness.
Grady was none too happy to find himself alone with Jessie. Even if the SUV her mom used for the day care smelled like a cross between Cheerios and crayons, Jessie’s faint strawberry lotion wreathed him in familiar scent. The fact that after all these years he still remembered that sort of detail about her only made his heart ache more.
Trying to play it cool, as if being next to her wasn’t killing him—he focused on driving along the five-mile stretch of blacktop country lane.
“How do you—”
“I take it—”
When they both