Page 16 of Please, Stay

“Daddy says that he’s a hardworking man. I think he rolls around in the fields with his cows for fun.”

Grayson stood, his look pinned Juliana in place, her hand hovering over the half-cleaned table. He stepped around a table, making his way to them with his slow saunter. Juliana glanced around. Nowhere to run.

“Becky,” Juliana half-whispered, “I can’t talk to him with my dad here. He’s already suspicious and riled up.”

“I’m on it. You talk. I’ll handle your dad.” Becky gave her a cheesy half-salute and marched to the counter to run interference.

“How many jobs do you have?” Grayson’s arm brushed hers as he plucked a napkin from the dispenser on the table. He used it to clean his sunglasses, his gaze still locked on her face.

She lifted the dirty dish bucket Becky had left to give her hands something to do. “Just the one at the paper, but I help out Ms. Iris when she needs it.” She glanced back at her dad. Becky blocked his view. Crisis averted for now.

“Who was the guy that asked you to the movies?”

So, he had heard the conversation. She pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “That’s a long story.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to talk about it.” Grayson rested his hand on her forearm. Warmth radiated from his suntanned skin. “Maybe if I talked to your dad about going out to dinner—”

“No!” Juliana reared back from his offer and into a misplaced chair. The metal legs skidded across the tile floor and clanged into another table.

The dirty dish bucket tilted at a severe angle. Her arm flailed out but caught nothing but air. “Ah!”

Grayson grabbed her around her waist and steadied the bucket with his other hand, pulling her up and close to his body.

The diner must have grown quiet. Her eyes dipped to his lips.

His hands tightened, bringing their bodies into full contact and sending those tingles he’d given her before into overdrive.

A corner of Grayson’s lips tilted in a smile, but his eyes remained steady and focused. “This is nicer than I thought it’d be. Damn, your eyes are gorgeous, Jules.”

Pain flared in her arm, replacing the tingles that had begun to spread. She stumbled away from Grayson as someone yanked her arm.

Her dad’s reddened face scrunched up in a fury she’d not seen in a very long time came within an inch of Grayson’s. “Don’t touch her.”

Grayson didn’t budge. The easy-going look remained, except for a new intensity in his eyes. The last time she’d seen that look, Grayson’s movie character killed sixteen guards with only a steak knife.

“Daddy, he kept me from falling.” She tugged at her arm, but he didn’t release his bruising grip. “Calm down.”

Ms. Iris rushed forward. “Hugh, honey, I saw the whole thing. Don’t blow it out of proportion. Let Juliana go and take a few deep breaths. The man was only helping the child stand up.” She scooted in between Juliana and her dad, forcing him to drop his hand as she patted his arm and fussed over his temper.

Juliana’s arm ached where he’d seized her. Red fingerprints marked her skin. He’d never grabbed her before.

Taking the tray, Ms. Iris patted Juliana on the shoulder. “You run along. I appreciate the help, but I know you and your daddy have a lot of work to finish. I always look forward to the Sunday paper. If it doesn’t get printed, then I don’t get to read it.”

Grayson’s eyes zeroed in on her arm. A muscle in his jaw ticked. She twisted to the side, trying to hide the marks.

She wanted to explain that her dad had never touched her, but Ms. Iris pushed her to the door, leaving her dad taking fast, deep breaths that didn’t seem to ease the red flush covering his face.

“I’ll pack everything up to-go.” She ran a hand up and down Juliana’s back and lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, honey. Don’t give up on him. You know he’s scared to lose you, too.”

Juliana nodded. “Get him to sit down if you can. Make him drink a glass of water.” Hot tears pricked the back of her eyes for an emotion she couldn’t identify. Embarrassment? Regret? Frustration? It didn’t matter what label she put on it, life right then just plain, old sucked.

6

Grayson stared at the television screen as the commercial for a pawn shop in Valdosta played for a sixth time that afternoon. Distracting himself after the scene in the diner was impossible. A best-selling thriller novel sat on the desk beside the script he needed to review. Both opened, but unread. Finally, daytime talk shows had grabbed his attention long enough for him to start to wonder if he needed to drag Juliana and her dad on the show for an “intervention.”

After Juliana left the diner, Becky tried to give him some lame explanation about Hugh Campbell. Grayson had cut her off. She loved Juliana, that much he could tell, but no justification would rationalize Juliana’s abusive father. It’d taken every inch of self-control not to haul the man against the wall when he’d seen the red marks his fingers had left on her arm.

After brooding over it all afternoon, and regretting not doing something about it, he’d decided the next man that touched Juliana inappropriately would pay the consequences. First from Grayson. Then the cops.

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