Page 31 of Grace on the Rocks

“Then find an abandoned kirk or go to the library.Orback to s-s-s”—he stopped himself from what she was pretty sure was going to besodding—“Tennessee.”Heclosed his eyes, and when he opened them, there was pleading in their mossy depths. “Ijust need three weeks.”

There was something about his desperation, something familiar and lonely that tugged atGrace.Histhroat was clogged with the same hopeless need she’d heard in her own when she beggedNPRto alter her itinerary because maybe a change of scenery would help her get the job done.

The mix-up with her accommodation hadn’t beenGrace’sfault, but it wasn’t his either.Norwas her inability to meet her precious deadline extension.

“I suppose it’s your house,” she conceded uncharitably.

“It felt ungentlemanly to mention,” he replied, tilting his head to frown at her, and damn it, he was almost cute doing some kind of stern-puppy impression. “Ifyou’re having trouble, maybe a…” he paused. “Maybea vacation, a real one, is what you need.”

Grace hated to agree with him, but banging her head against her computer certainly hadn’t helped the words flow yet. “Wouldyour work go faster ifIhelp?” she asked.

His eyes widened in something like alarm, and he studied her skeptically, his gaze making her hot despite the brisk sea air. “Youdon’t have to.”

“MaybeIwant to.Idon’t… vacation.Idon’t rest.”

“Houston,Ithink we found the issue…”

She bristled. “Idon’t have an issue?—”

“Except a looming deadline.”

“Don’t talk about my deadline!”

He raised his eyebrows at her ridiculous childishness.

“I don’t have an issue except dead noise-cancelling headphones and this.”Shegestured to the roof, the beach, and him.

“You came halfway around the world for this.Ifyou’re going to be here, then be here.”

Now it wasGrace’sturn to glower. “Doyou want my help or not?”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Knowwhich end of a hammer to hold?”

Grace rolled her eyes. “Theshiny end?AsIshove it up your?—”

“Welcome to the crew,” he said, cutting her off with a pacifying air as he took a step back from her.

“ShouldIleave you two alone?” the boy teased.

Grace had forgotten he was there. “No!” she and her host both thundered, and it fairly crackled in the air.

“Okey doke,” the kid replied, turning his back on them to climb the ladder once more.

ChapterEight

While the troublesomeAmericanwent back inside, hopefully to change out of her thin-as-a-butterfly-wing cotton top,BryanandLùcasscurried back up the ladder.Notthat it was her responsibility how his body reacted, but it would be a shame to drop a solar panel off the roof because he was distracted by the way her nipples pebbled beneath the almost-sheer material or to sever his own thumb because of the places his mind went when he read the saucy slogan.

“She seems fun,”Lùcassaid slowly.

Bryan grunted.

The moment he’d turned around and seen her there, with her very messy bun and that naughty t-shirt—over equally sinful pajama bottoms, he realized as she stalked away—he’d been overcome with an urge he’d not felt for man or woman in quite some time.Andthat was sort of… nice.

No distractions, he reminded himself.Neverwith tourists and especially not with his mate’s little sister.Jesus.Ifhe was one thing in this world, it was not a walking cliché.

Unfortunately, the tourist in question chose that exact moment to pull herself off the ladder and onto the roof, mercifully clad in jeans and flannel, but damn.Thosejeans didn’t help cool his libido like he’d hoped, not even a little.Hepacked the newly surfaced urges away, deep in a bunker surrounded by sharks and barbed wire, and took a calming breath.

She glanced hesitantly at him, and then over the side to the ground below.Herlittle not-quite-apologetic half smile sentBryan’sbelly into instant somersaults, and he batted those down too, asking, “Heightsan issue?”

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