Page 27 of You're the Reason

Some of the tension eased from his shoulders. “You could always stay. Heritage seems to have that effect on people, and we could use a ballet studio again.”

“I have a career and a life in Chicago that I need to get back to. This is just for the summer.”

“Well, it’s good having you here in the meantime. I’m sure your class will be popular.” Jon offered a wave and headed to the back door.

The door had just shut when Seth’s apartment door opened. He stepped back into the room in athletic shorts and a loose tank top. Wow, he definitely hadn’t had those shoulders when they were in high school. He locked eyes with her for a moment, and all the warmth in his gaze from when she’d seen him at the police station was gone. But the dark, smoldering look that had replaced it did not detract from his appeal. In fact, quite the opposite. His dark eyes seemed to look right into her, melting any barrier she’d constructed.

He looked away as he stepped over to the bar that she’d tried in vain to move and picked it up with little effort then carried it to the box she’d marked out. The muscle on his freshly shaved jaw twitched slightly. When he set the bar gently down, he cast a look back at her. “Is that okay, Your Highness?”

Right. That snapped her out of it. Hot or not, this was still Seth. The guy who seemed to make a hobby out of breaking and entering, not to mention hating her for some unknown reason.

“I’ll leave you to it.” She spun on her feet toward the front door and hurried outside.

She’d only just crossed Teft when her mom’s silver Lexus stopped along the square. The window rolled down, and her mother leaned across the passenger side. “Grace?”

Great. She should have stopped by her parents’ before now to tell them the new plan. She’d texted that she was doing the treatment but had left it at that. Maybe she should have added a few more details. But she was just waiting. Waiting to not feel like this.

Grace leaned down, propping her elbows on the window. “Hi, Mom.”

“Why aren’t you in Chicago?”

“I’m rehabbing my knee. Remember?”

“Here? Where are you staying?”

“With Ms. Margret?” Why did that sound like a question?

Her mother’s red lips pressed into a thin line. “What were you doing in the studio?”

Grace glanced back at the lit front window, but the butcher paper still hid the inside. “I will be teaching classes for the summer.”

“Teaching?” The word dripped with disdain.

“Yup.”

Her mom’s nose flared a moment. “Get in. Your father and I need to talk to you.”

“I am actually on my way somewhere.” Like anywhere but home at the moment. They might need to have this conversation, but she needed to be prepared and on her terms. “How about dinner tomorrow?”

“Nonsense. Your father and I have plans tomorrow night. We’ll expect you tonight at five thirty.” Her mom started to lean back.

“No.” Grace leaned down in the window and met her mother’s eye. “If tomorrow won’t work, then Thursday, and I’ll make dinner at Ms. Margret’s.”

Her mom’s eyes narrowed a moment. “You cook?”

No. But surely Ms. Margret’s offer to help extended to meddling parents and not just attractive young men. She just needed to be on the high ground for this battle. “Six o’clock Thursday, at Ms. Margret’s. I’ll be ready.”

With that she straightened away from the car and continued down the street. Would she be ready? Never. But if she could fake being brave in the face of Seth Warner, surely, she could fake it in front of her parents for one dinner.

five

Seth had hoped sharing the space with Grace wouldn’t be that bad—after all, they’d probably barely see each other. But maybe he should’ve asked Grace what she meant by morning, because the six a.m. wake-up call in the form of Bach was not what he had in mind. Seth smashed his pillow over his head, but that didn’t help—there just wasn’t enough soundproofing between the studio below and his new apartment. Maybe if he was on a real bed, but the few blankets that separated him from the wood floor did nothing to lessen the sound. He might as well have his ear pressed to the floor.

He’d hoped he’d at least find some peace and solitude in this apartment, but that seemed like a big no. He’d have to get extra coffee to keep from falling asleep at work. He couldn’t let Jon down. He’d only worked a half day after yesterday’s rough start. But at least he’d managed to make a central list of properties, which was no small feat.

He closed his eyes, but returning to sleep wasn’t an option. Not with the way the hard floor dug into his shoulder blades. Then again, he couldn’t blame the floor for his poor night’s sleep. He’d spent many nights in worse conditions than this. Crashing anywhere had become his superpower.

But those anywheres weren’t usually plagued with pale blue eyes blazing as she yelled at him. He still couldn’t believe Grace had called the cops on him again. The whole Howell family was out to get him, and had he known he’d have to live this close to one, he’d never have agreed to Jon’s deal. No gym was worth this.

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