Page 18 of You Complicate Me

Nick practically leaped off her in a move so quick and dramatic it would’ve been comical if she wasn’t so turned on.

Grace snatched her iPhone off the nightstand. “What?” she grumbled when she answered.

“Where the fuck are you?” Gage snarled.

“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart.”

From his position across the room—Jesus, if he got any farther away from her he’d be in another room—Nick shot her a questioning glance. She lifted her chin in defiance. She didn’t owe him any explanations. Let him stew about who her sweetheart might be.

“I’m serious, Gracie,” Gage said again, sounding incredibly tense. “I need you here. Your mother is trying to set me up with housekeeping.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “Do you mean she tried to set you up with a housekeeper? You’re so dramatic.”

“She’s tried to set me up with five housekeepers in the past two hours,” he said through obviously clenched teeth. “That’s statistically significant. I’m pretty sure I’m not being dramatic when I say housekeeping.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do about it?”

“When you’re with me, she focuses on you and why you aren’t dating, trying to get remarried, or pregnant. When I’m by myself, she’s totally focused on me.”

“And here I thought you might actually miss me. You just want to use me as cannon fodder.”

“So? You do it to me all the time.”

It was true. She’d often thrown Gage under the proverbial bus a time or two (or ten) to get her mom off her case. She supposed she couldn’t fault him for wanting to do the same. “You could always tell her you’re gay,” she suggested.

She could almost hear him grinding his teeth. “Then she’d just try to set me up with maintenance.”

That was true, too. Her mom didn’t discriminate. Gay or straight didn’t matter. She was an equal-opportunity hopeless romantic who wanted everyone involved in a committed relationship.

“Well, hang in there, you big wuss. I’ll be there in…” Grace trailed off, glancing back at Nick.

“If we eat breakfast and get on the road in the next hour,” Nick answered, “we’ll be there by lunchtime.”

Gage must have heard him, because he growled—yes, growled like a rabid wolf—in her ear. “Damn it, Grace, are you late because you’re holed up in some hotel room having sex with your future brother-in-law?”

She frowned. No way in hell was she explaining herself to Gage, of all people. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds dirty,” she said primly.

“I swear to God, if you don’t get here soon, I’m leaving. Grace, I’m not kidding—”

Well, as much fun as the conversation was, Grace was over it. She made a crackling noise in the back of her throat. “What was that, Gage?” Crackle, crackle, crackle. “You’re…breaking up…can’t…hear…need…talk…”

And with that, she disconnected the call and dumped the phone unceremoniously onto the bed next to her.

She glanced back at Nick, who was staring at her, hands on hips, with an expression that said he was about two seconds from darting from the room like Bambi. Oh, boy. This conversation had the potential to be all kinds of awkward. Should she apologize for groping him in his sleep?

But he hadn’t seemed to mind, she reminded herself. That much had been obvious, what with the tented sheet and all.

Did he think she was mad at him, or something? Oh, God, he wasn’t going to apologize to her, was he? Surely he wasn’t stupid enough to think he’d taken advantage of her. Or worse yet, that he’d led her on in some way. Ugh. That would be beyond humiliating.

He opened his mouth, paused, then closed it with a snap before ducking into the bathroom without a word or a backward glance.

She stared at the closed door in shock for a moment, then rolled her eyes. So they were skipping the awkward conversation and traveling right into the lovely land of denial. Awesome.

If ever there was a clearer illustration of why she was off men, Grace certainly couldn’t think of one. There wasn’t one of the bastards alive who could communicate worth a damn.

Chapter Nine

Grace had had no idea the landscape in Indiana was so diverse. After what they’d seen on their drive so far, she assumed the entire state was nothing but corn fields and pig farms. But before long, corn fields started morphing into gently rolling hills and lush green woods, complete with fragrant pines and mature oak trees the likes of which Angelenos such as herself could only dream about.

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