Page 41 of Holding Grace

I huffed out a little laugh. “That’s one way to see it, I guess. You’re the best, Michael.”

“Nah, you just make it easy to be on your team.”

Tears sprang to my eyes at his words. How had I gotten so lucky?

A little more than a year and a half ago, I’d landed randomly in Lark, been given a job I didn’t really deserve, and gained a circle of support I hadn’t earned. Even after I’d run away, the universe had somehow reconnected us. That was all it took. “Team Grace” had pulled me gently back into their world and matter-of-factly surrounded me with every single thing I needed.

I didn’t understand how this could be my life. How I was lying here in a beautiful apartment, with a gorgeous, amazing man watching over me, and a group of friends ready to stand between me and whatever might happen next.

“I’m glad you’re part of it,” I whispered to Michael, all I could manage with the emotion clogging my throat.

“I am, too,” Micheal responded. “I’ll let you get some rest. Good night, Grace.”

“Good night, Michael.”

This time I closed my eyes, listened to Michael’s breathing, and let his presence lull me to sleep.

Chapter 14

Michael

I let myself spend two more nights with Grace, then made myself go home. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and I doubted Grace would kick me out even if she was sick of me.

After that first night there had been no more confessions, or even much conversation. The next night, Grace made us flatbreads for dinner then we watched the Monday night football game. On Tuesday I brought us food home from the pub, and we laughed our way through a crime thriller so bad it was unintentionally funny.

It had been different, but not in a bad way. It had made me think about what it would be like if instead of sitting on the floor – which was better than the couch – while Grace curled up in the chair, we were sitting together...on a new, comfortable couch, my arm around her, tangled together while we cheered on our team or groaned at the cheesy lines in a terrible movie.

It had been hard to keep my hands off Grace. Seeing her in her own space, in comfortable shorts or sweats and a t-shirt, her hair piled up with a clip and her feet bare or in fuzzy socks, she was damn near irresistible.

Her confession that she’d used me to keep Travis at bay didn’t make it any easier. In fact, it made me laugh that she’d thought I’d be mad about it.

If only she knew it had made me want to kiss her senseless for admitting that she thought of me that way.

You didn’t talk about a man like he was your boyfriend – imaginary or not – if you couldn’t and didn’t think of him that way, at least at some level.

I’d played it off, but Grace’s confession had lit me up. It had given me hope and something to build on.

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