Page 9 of Keeping Katie
This man is making me forget what words are. Do I even remember what my name is right now? How can one person be so gorgeous, mysterious, terrifying, and kind-looking all at the same time? I’m not sure how, but Grady pulls it off.
When he first came in, and I had to keep looking higher and higher just to meet his eyes, I was breathless. He’s got to be at least six-four. And dressed in a black suit that definitely isn’t off the rack. I almost wondered if he was a model. Then he held out his tattooed fingers, and I was surprised. He must be covered in them.
Then, after stumbling over my words, I burned myself with the stupid steamer that I’ve been meaning to have fixed for months. Now I’m thoroughly embarrassed and wish the ground would swallow me up whole. My skin still tingles from the pain, but I don’t want him to know that because he seems a bit pissed off over it happening. It was pretty hot the way he got all over-the-top protective.
Chloe keeps catching my eye, tilting her head toward Grady, her mouth tipped into a half-smirk. He won’t stop staring at me like I’m the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. It’s unnerving. I look like a train wreck, and I might even smell of BO right now, so I don’t know what he finds so interesting. Plus, I’m me, and he’s him. We are definitelynoton the same level. Literally and figuratively.
Yet despite all that, my vagina loves every second of the attention. My breasts, too. They’re aching, desperate for just a whisper of a touch from him. A girl can dream.
It’s obvious he’s rich. Not to mention hot. And charming. The way he took control when I hurt myself was swoon-worthy. He was gentle but stern at the same time. I’m not used to that kind of treatment. I’m used to being the one taking care of others. I’ve spent the better part of my life doing so.
Needing to get away from Grady’s intensity, I help Chloe finish the drinks, topping them with whipped cream. After I put the lid on Grady’s cup, I hold my breath and hold it out for him.
“It’s a light roast pour-over with steamed milk, a splash of Irish cream, and whipped cream. It’s my favorite.” As I speak, he studies me, bringing the cup up to his nose to sniff it.
“It’s your favorite?” he asks before he takes a drink.
He has a slight accent when he talks, which only adds to his appeal. It’s so light that I can’t tell where it might originate from, though.
I nod as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Who knew an act so simple could ignite my body like wildfire? Thank goodness I wore a bra with a little padding today because otherwise, he’d get a nice view of my budded nipples.
“Aye,” he says. “Just became my favorite, too. Thanks, lass. See you tomorrow.”
Oh my God. It’s an Irish accent. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. I can hardly wait to get home so I can load my e-readerwith a bunch of Irish mafia books because he totally gives off that vibe. Although he’s so tall and fit he could be a sports player. Ohhh, maybe he’s a hockey player. That would be hot. Is Irish hockey a thing?
Then he puts a hundred-dollar bill on the counter and strides toward the door, leaving me, Cali, and Chloe staring at his backside. Damn, the man sure fills out a suit. His trousers are molded perfectly to his ass, giving me the best exit view. Definitely a hockey player.
“What just happened?” I murmur.
Chloe nudges me and wraps her arm around my waist. “I think he just fell in love. Text me later. Good luck with the real estate agent.”
She leans in and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before she grabs their beverages, and they follow Grady outside.
I blink several times as her words finally start to register. Did she just say…? No. I misheard her. I must have. There’s no way she said what I think she did. Obviously, I’m so tired that I’m delusional. Delusional and unexpectedly horny.
I don’t have a ton of experience with men. I’m certainly not a virgin, but my body has never had such a reaction to anyone before. If only a man like him could ever love a woman like me. He probably has supermodels throwing themselves at him on a regular basis. Not that I blame them. I don’t know how Chloe and Cali act so nonchalantly around him. I could barely breathe the entire time he was here.
What would it be like to be with a man like that? I bet he knows what to do to make a woman feel good.
As far-fetched as it may be that Grady would ever be interested in me, I’m sure going to enjoy fantasizing about him tonight when I’m tucked in. Bedtime can’t come soon enough.
My stomach twists. I’m going to be sick if I don’t calm down. How am I supposed to do that, though? The improvements the realtor suggested will cost me over twenty thousand dollars. Do I look like I’m rolling in money? My savings account is about as sad as Eeyore on a rainy day, and that’s pretty pitiful. I’m barely staying above water. Thankfully, my parents’ health insurance company has been waiting for their payment until I sell the house. They’re losing patience, though, and have started making threats that I can’t even think about. I cannot and will not lose the shop. I just hope the money from the sale will cover everything.
“I’ll have to think about this. Maybe I can manage a few of these.” I glance at the paper Calvin gave me. “I could paint the walls myself. That’s easy enough. And I could fix the gate, probably.”
Calvin smiles and leans against the kitchen island, his gaze raking down my body and back up again. “It’s up to you, doll. Just remember that the selling price will be based on the improvements you make. If buyers see a lot of stuff to do, they’ll have leverage to offer less. I’m only trying to help you out.”
Right. So, either way, I’m screwed. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for the stupid life insurance company that dropped my mom’s coverage a few months before she died. The worst part is, I didn’t know until after she was gone, and I’d reached out for the policy payout. Now, I’m left with no choice but to sell their house to pay off their medical debts.
After searching for realtors, I somehow ended up with Calvin. And honestly, I’m not a fan of him. I’ve never sold orbought a house, though, so I don’t know if this is normal or not. I have a feeling he calls everyone by some kind of nickname, but it feels slimy every time he calls me doll. Slimy, just like his overly gelled hair. Barf.
Once he leaves, after giving me an awkward half-hug that caught me off guard, I get to work and load a few boxes into my car. I’d like to say this house means something to me, but I’ve spent more time at Twisted Bean and at the hospital since I was a kid. The coffee shop is more my home than this house. I think my parents felt that way, too. We made so many memories there. Ones I’ll cherish forever.
It's way past sunset by the time I lock the front door, yawning as I do. As I drive away, I glance over my shoulder. There’s a black Escalade parked along the curb a few houses down. It’s similar to the one Chloe came to the shop in. The one she rode in with Grady. I squint harder to see if I recognize it. Wow. I shake my head and laugh out loud. I must really be losing it. As if he would follow me to my parents’ house after meeting me one time. Good lord. I’ve been reading way too many stalker romances.
Will he be at dinner if I go? He made it seem like he would be there. I’m not sure if that makes it better. I was barely functional around him today. He’s probably used to that. I’m sure women lose their ability to talk around him all the time.
My shoulders slump. I can’t go to dinner tomorrow as much as I want to. The list I have is so long, I’ll be busy for days. Hopefully, Chloe will take a raincheck. Once again, my responsibilities outweigh a chance at fun.