Never Hide Again - Page 45

“You’re welcome…” My voice squeaks.

I still don’t know what to expect. Is this it? No discussion with me about walking in on such a damning topic? Strange. Grant calls me “enigma” at times, but I think it’s the other way around.

One quick sip later tells me my original assumption about no discussion happening was off base.

“What do you think, Olivia?”

His question is so calm and pointed, and nothing on his face alters. Any by-passer would think he was asking about a place for us to go for lunch.

“Tha-that’s it?” My shoulders hike up, almost touching my earlobes as I shuffle on the balls of my feet. The only response I can think of tumbles out on its own. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Mad at what you heard…?” He rests his full weight on the desk and grips his palms together, something close to resignation softening his features. “Or bitterly accepting that the inevitable happened?”

Confusion makes my head tilt. “I’m sorry, but I don’t follow that.”

Grant shrugs. “You’re extremely involved in my life, Olivia. More than any woman since college. You work with me, eat with me, get ready with me, sleep in my bed every night. You were bound to discover something eventually.”

“So…” My head draws back, shock pulling up my eyebrows until they’re probably touching my hairline. “Why did you look angry when you first saw me?”

“Iwas judging your reaction, waiting to see if you’d accept what you overheard or be repulsed by it.” A light frown tugs at his mouth. “If I appeared mad, that wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry you thought that. You caught me in a tense moment, my sweet. Even I can’t rein in my facial reactions all the time.”

“No,” I say softly, tearing my gaze away. My heart flutters at the base of my throat at the show of his consideration. He thought about how I felt during a moment when he was upset, and it’s impossible to find fault with that. “I’m not repulsed.”

Torn, but not repulsed. There is a small niggling that says I should be concerned with what I heard, but I shake my head, ignoring it. “You don’t need to apologize to me.”

“Notto you?” he echoes, pulling to his feet. “Does that mean you think I needto apologize to someone else, then?”

My mouth drops open, but no response comes out. However, my mouth stays parted for a different reason as Grant stands inches away and stares softly into my eyes. He transfixes me, making my blood spike with an urge to kiss him.

“How do you feel about what I do?” His question is barely a whisper. “Does it bother you?”

My brows come together, but even with me tongue-tied, the words I need to say come out. “Don’t youhave a problem with getting people addicted to drugs?”

He takes a deep, contemplative breath through his nose before the air huffs out. “Getting them addicted, or providing what they’re already existing for?”

My breath is stolen. Grant truly is a sentence stealer, and I can’t help but feel that he’s taking advantage of my stunned silence.

“You’ve ever seen an addict, darling? Do you know the lengths they’ll go to for their next high?” He pockets his hands, a calm look on his face. “I find easily providing what they want can actually protect the innocent. Better to have them under a bridge sedated than burglarizing a home and possibly killing someone in search of more.”

“But-but…” I arch a brow, shocked and befuddled. “You feed their addiction.”

“Yes.” His admittance is cut and dry, clear as day. “And I also provide half a million dollars worth of funds to rehab centers every year as well. Those are free to get into. I provide options—I just don’t pick for them. We’re adults, Olivia. I can’t dictate the lives of strangers.”

“That…” I shake my head, wanting to rebuke him for such words. I want to tell him that he’s wrong.

But how can it be wrong?

The gentle voice of opposition snuffs out and my shoulders loosen.

“That what, Olivia?” Grant prods.

“Makes sense.” My pulse beats at a steady rhythm as I say it, and everything sits correctly in my bones. “Oddly, it makes sense.”

He laughs—the rare kind that makes his chest rise and fall. My heart roars to life because of it. Slowly, he eats the remaining distance between us and brushes his knuckles across my face. “You’ve been spending too much time with me. Months back, I doubt you would have found that to be a logical explanation.”

“Perhaps,” I say, arching my spine so our next breath causes our torso to touch. “But you make it hard to come up with a counter argument. You’re far too calm and rational.”

“Fuck.” He sighs, tugging me close. “You’re becoming more entangled with my way of thinking, and I can’t decide if I like that or not.”

“I don’t know if I like it either…”

But the strong beating of my heart tells me I’m only saying what sounds right—that I’m saying what I should be saying—because what he’s doing is wrong, but for some reason, I don’t hate it. I almost admire it.

“Then we’ll stop analyzing before it fucks with our headspace.” His lips crash down on mine, and today, he’s taking from me.

The kiss is aggressive, demanding, borderline upset, but not crossing the line to make it cruel. I kiss him back with the same vigor. Matching his pace, both of us nipping and grunting until small beads of sweat form at the nape of my neck.

The space between my legs aches for more, but the first whimper I make has Grant slowing down, stopping our kisses completely. He holds me in his arms, panting as I nestle my head to his chest.

“Olivia?” His fingers comb through my hair.

“Mmm?” I moan against his suit jacket, halfway lost in his amazing scent.

“Darling, I’m only going to say this once.” He stops stroking my head, and for the first time, he’s stiff against me—nervous stiff. I feel it in his muscles, hear it in the tight swallow he makes, sense it in the upticking of his heart rate.

I choose not to speak and opt for nodding once instead.

“Besides Alan, I don’t trust, Olivia. I can’t afford to. That’s why I don’t have long-term girlfriends. There’s too much at stake, too much at risk if anyone gets close.” His confession is strained, unlocking a fresh weight into the room that’s crushing against my chest. I stop breathing. “But you make me want to share my whole fucking world with you, and I don’t think I can bar you out much longer, so I’m going to stop trying.”

He snakes his arms around me in a tight, desperate hug, and my heartbeat snags at how raw he feels. I grip the jacket of his suit, madly wishing I could melt into him. A whimper trails out of my mouth when he breaks the hold and moves me back a step.

“Olivia… I’m trusting you. Allowing you to share some of the burden of my daily life. What you saw today…? Anyone else would leave here, and never be seen again. It’s dangerous, and when paired up with the wrong person, could be nothing except a liability to me.” His voice cracks as he captures my chin with his finger, tilting my head back. “But you? You’re different, so beautifully different, Olivia. You’re a treasure that I don’t deserve but one that I am desperate to keep for myself. I want to show you how high and tall the world is. What it’s like to live with no ceilings and without people telling you no. I want to give you all of that, so please, whatever you do, please don’t break me.”

A tremble rushes to my lower lip when I tilt my head to reach his gaze. “Grant…” All I can ask myself is how I’d ever break someone like him to start with—or why I’d even want to? He’s everything I’m not, and all I can do is commend the power he takes for himself.

“I could never hurt you if you did something to me,” he says. “No part of me allows that, but know that if you ever turn against me, that’s the day I fucking break. That’s the day the toughest man in Seattle becomes a laughingstock to the world, and I’m nothing. So please… please don’t.”

“Never,” I promise without any hesitation, the words burning in my throat, a fresh well of tears burning my eyes. When I run my fingers across his cheekbone, they’re shaking. “Not ever, Grant, I promise.”

He smiles, warm and soft, and lowers his head. “I’m holding you to that, and now it’s safe to say that we’re exclusive. Do you want that?”

My chest is swimming at the question. Exclusive. With Grant—what a beautiful statement. I nod, nearly laughing and crying in delight. “Grant, yes. I would—” A gasp steals my words for a moment. “I would love that. Please, yes.”

“Wonderful.” I’ve never seen him smile like this, so warm and soft. His brows lift, almost like he’s forgotten something.

Tags: Garnet Christie Romance
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