Page 69 of Just Act Natural

“Lilabird, your taste in fashion has changed since you came back to Oregon.”

Grant’s hoodie is so big, it covers my shorts. I look like I’m standing here in a sweatshirt, sneakers, and nothing else. After the splash contest, there’s no way my primer held onto my makeup the way it should. I probably have raccoon eyes to rival a deranged clown.

His gaze skates over my body like an unwanted touch. “You’d be so much prettier if you tried a little harder.”

Grant steps between Josh and me so fast I barely register him moving. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

He’s calm and collected, but his voice is the equivalent of putting up his dukes. This man isnotmessing around. In this moment, I don’t care about perceived gender roles and damsels in distress. I like Grant stepping up. A lot.

I peek around his shoulder to see Josh’s fake smile widen. Like right before a snake reveals its fangs. “Do you know who I am?”

It’s one of his favorite questions, and a last resort when heisn’t getting his way. Eventually, the person in question realizes that he’s from one of the wealthiest families in Seattle and owns a multi-million dollar tech firm. I’ve seen it play out dozens of times, and people always back down once they figure out he’s “somebody.”

This time around, though? Grant takes a step closer to him.

“Yeah, I know who you are. You’re the jerk insulting my girlfriend. Don’t ever do it again.”

Maybethiswill be what causes all of my organs to burst into flame. Grant Irwin calling me his girlfriend. I’m a toasty marshmallow melting to goo.

He turns back to me. The hardness in his expression transforms into tenderness. “Is your cocoa how you want it?”

I fight the urge to laugh—after casually growling at my former fiancé, he’s thinking about my hot chocolate? “I’m good.”

He nods, takes my hand, and leads me out of the lodge without another glance in Josh’s direction. He storms across the parking lot, clutching my hand tightly like he needs to be sure of me next to him. When we reach his SUV, he opens the passenger door and gently takes my paper cup to tuck the cocoa safely into the center console.

He straightens and stares down at me as if he’s expecting a reprimand. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand there and let that guy?—”

Nope. No way will I allow him to apologize for a single part of that interaction. I reach up until I’ve got one hand on his shoulder, the other on the back of his neck, and pull him to me. In the split second before I get him where I want him, understanding dawns, and his eyes darken.

Our mouths meet, merge, fuse. I am bonded to Grant, and I have no intention of letting him go. His hands trace over my back and draw me into him, removing the last hint of space between us.

His lips are firm and decisive as he quickly takes control of the kiss. He tilts my face to one side, gently maneuvering me to open up to him. He pauses the barest moment, like he’s giving me room to resist or pull away. I love his concern for my comfort, but I don’t want to stop.

I scrape my nails against his scalp as our tongues slide together. He groans against my mouth, a needy, insistent sound. There’s something intoxicating about making this easy-going man lose his cool over me. I want more.

He flexes his fingers against my back, massaging in small strokes until they rest on my hips. The kiss turns slow and languid, more like a hundredth kiss than our first. Like we have endless time ahead of us to kiss and caress and cuddle.

A teeny tiny thought whispers through my kiss-fogged brain that we don’t have endless time. I can’t keep him. He’s going home in a few weeks, and I’m fighting for my promotion here in Sunshine. This month together is all we get.

But now is not the time for sad thoughts. I shut out the reminder and focus on him. His firm shoulders beneath my hands. His insane warmth that makes me wonder why I ever thought I needed an outside source of heat. His afternoon stubble scratching my mouth in the best way.

Finally, our kisses gentle, both of us easing away until we’re staring at each other. It’s not late enough for sunset, but this might as well be the golden hour. He looks more handsome than ever in the late afternoon light. My rugged, sweet mountain man.

I think I just unlocked a new core memory, and I won’t mind at all if this one turns up in my dreams.

TWENTY-TWO

LILA

I hadn’t considered justhow awkward it would be to hang out in Grant’s hot tub after he gave me the best kiss of my life. For the record, it’s super awkward. Mostly because I want to splash over to his side and go in for another round.

Impulse control has never been my favorite.

We soak in the warm water and fiddle with the tub’s jets and most definitely do not mention the kiss. Not mentioning it has to be equally as awkward as mentioning it would be, though, right? The silence raises too many questions. Does he regret it? Did we take our faking too far? Was it fake for him? Is it remotely possible his feelings are just as tangled up as mine are?

But I don’t bring up the kiss. I opt for something less confusing.

“What is World of Warcraft?”

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