Page 10 of Love is Grand

Cal wasn’t the kind of guy who committed to a woman or got attached, and I was just an inexperienced single mom. That was a bad combination, like fire and gasoline. My heart was combustible, and Cal was the type to run into burning buildings without a fireproof suit.

“I know,” I said, “but it’s for the best.” I put the key in the ignition and tossed my purse into the passenger seat.

“I’m coming.” Stubbornly, Cal stood there, blocking me from closing my door, and I felt myself nodding.

I wasn’t going to lie ... I wanted him to come and make me forget who I was for one night. My body itched for him to scratch it, like he’d done at the Ritz.

“I’ll drive,” he said.

Finally, my common sense returned. “No. Have your driver drop you at the café in town, and I’ll pick you up there.”

Cal pursed his lips, his eyes boring into mine. “Fine, but I’m not tiptoeing around that ass at the valet. He may like you, but you don’t like him.”

I pulled my gaze away from Cal. His directness hit me hard. I needed someone to speak to me truthfully, and no one ever did.

No going back now.

I slipped my hand into the interior handle and pulled the door closed. Cal watched every movement, including me putting my car into drive, and then he took off. To retrieve his coffee and find his driver, I supposed.

Stealing a glance at Weezie’s booster seat in the back, I wondered if that would give Cal pause when I picked him up at the café. Maybe he’d change his mind and go back to the Grand and his New York society ladies.

“We could go to the Grand,” Cal said as I pulled in front of my small house, and I tried to see my home through Cal’s eyes.

Faded pink, in need of new shutters and a fresh coat of paint, it might not look like much to him. But it was everything to me.

Swallowing every ounce of my pride, I said, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” He half turned in the passenger seat.

“Because this can’t be how you want to spend your vacation. In my crappy house.”

He reached over the center console and stroked my cheek gently. “Is that what you think? That this is crappy?”

Unable to look at him, I stared at the console between us.

“Shell, look at me,” he said, and I obeyed.

“This isn’t crappy. It’s you. In the city, they’d call it bohemian chic, but I call it all Shell. Warm and eclectic and welcoming ... the same way I feel when I’m around you.”

My heart skipped a few beats at his words. No one had ever said anything like that to me. I thought maybe it was me, but here was this gorgeous intelligent man saying it to me.

Staring at his eyelashes—they were way too long and perfect to be a man’s—I smiled and leaned my cheek into his palm. “How do you know? We met in a hotel hallway, and then shared a night a few months later.”

“I know,” he said simply in his usual bossy way.

“Well, it can’t be where you want to spend your time here.”

The night sky was dark beyond the windshield, the ocean too far away to hear the waves, but the salty air rolled in through my open window.

“If you’re here, then I do,” he said, not giving me a chance to argue. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Cal pulled his hand from my cheek and was out of the passenger door before I could breathe. I felt my lungs gasping for air at his statement.

Who is this man?

He was the guy who had elicited a surprising reaction from me while spending time at the Grand with another woman. The same guy who had flew back to the island and swooped me up at the restaurant, then toured around the island with me for five incredible days.

And now he was outside my house, waiting for me to take him inside.

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