Page 76 of Beautiful Mess

Several moments pass without a word. Grace’s jaw ticks as she holds my gaze, chin jutted out in what I’m sure is defiance, and I can tell there’s so much she wants to say to me. I can tell she wants to yell at me. But instead, she keeps her voice low and her eyes narrowed on me as she grits out, “I’m fully fucking capable of vetting people for the job. I’m not some damsel in distress in need of saving. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I’m helpless and clueless. Your misogyny is showing, Conway.”

There she is.There’s my little spitfire.

My lip twitches and my chest fills with pride at the sharp venom behind her words.

And at how utterly and completely wrong she is.

“I never once thought you were incapable.” My heart beats heavily as I continue. “I would have to be an absolute moron to think you could ever be helpless or clueless. You’re one of the strongest women I know, and I’m more than aware that you can handle everything on your own, but why should you have to? I saw how stressed out you were when I was here earlier this week, and I wanted to help the only way I know how, because that’s what you do when you care about somebody. It was never about saving you. You’re the last person I think would need saving, but just because youcanhandle it all on your own, just because that’s how it’s always been, doesn’t mean you should have to. Let me in, Grace.”

Tears well up in her bright green eyes, and the urge to wrap my arms around her hits me again, tenfold, but I think it would be the worst thing I could do right now. Chewing on her bottom lip, her silence is deafening.

“Thank you for doing the repairs,” she finally says before clearing her throat and rolling her shoulders back. “Please send me an invoice, and I’ll make sure it gets paid right away.”

My jaw tenses as the last sentence hits me like a sucker punch to the gut. “I’m not sending you an invoice, Grace,” I spit out, the words leaving a bitter taste on the back of my tongue.

“Yes, you are. You said it yourself, this is your job, therefore, you will be paid what you’re owed.”

No matter how infuriating Grace can be, and no matter how maddening this situation is, standing in front of her and watching her firmly stand her ground gives me an absolute sense of clarity on something I think I already knew. My blood pressure is, no doubt, through the roof, but despite the frustration bubbling inside me, a loud, abrasive thought punctures through to my mind, stealing the air from my lungs.

I love her.

She may be stubborn and, yeah, she may drive me crazy most of the time, but fuck if Grace doesn’t own the key to my heart. I couldn’t say when it happened, all I know is that nothing has ever been truer.

I’m so in love with this beautiful, bratty, hard-headed woman.

Knowing now isn’t the time or place to admit that to her, I swallow down the words and choose to stand my ground too, if only because I know it’ll piss her off, and I simply can’t help myself. Grace has always been stunning when angry, like a fiery goddess whose power I want to drown in. From the outside looking in, it probably looks like I hold all the power. That I have the upper hand. After all, I am the dominant one in the bedroom, while Grace is the one who submits, albeit begrudgingly, to me. But the truth is, she holds it all in the palm of her delicate hand. Grace has me wrapped around her finger, and I don’t think she even realizes it.

Clearing my throat and shoving my hands into my pockets, I stare down my nose at her. “If you notice any leaks, no matter how small, give me a call, and I’ll come back to take a look. Otherwise, you should be good to go.”

“Conway,” she practically growls as I move to step around her.

Stopping right beside her, I turn my head and meet her gaze, reveling in the way she has to crank her neck back to look up at me. “Like I already said, there will be no invoice, Grace. So, I suggest you drop it.”

Pressing her lips together, Grace clenches her jaw, and something akin to excitement zips through my veins. Not giving her a chance to argue with me, I saunter out of the office, exiting through the back door where my truck is parked and Davis is waiting for me with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“So, how’d that go, boss?” he drawls as we both climb in.

Shrugging, I start the engine and roll down my window. “Pretty good.” I back out of the parking spot, biting back a grin as the look on Grace’s face as I left her office flashes in my mind again.

I don’t give a shit what Grace says,this isn’t over.

We’re not finished.

Not even fucking close, and I know the first thing I need to do to prove that to her.

Thirty-Two

Conway

After I drop Davis off at his place, I drive home with a plan.

Parking my truck in the driveway beside my son’s car, I stroll into the house, kicking off my shoes before heading into the living room, finding Cole right where I knew he would be, on the couch with a video game controller in his hand, gaze glued to the television on the wall in front of him.

“Hey,” he murmurs without glancing my way.

Not wanting to waste time, I grab the remote off the table in front of him, turning off the TV.

“What the fuck, Dad?” His gaze slices over to me before he adds, “I was playing that, you know.”

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