Page 44 of Spring Showers

Grant swallowed hard and shifted his eyes to the ceiling and back to her. “I’m sorry I frightened you in that way. Believe me, it was not my intention,” he said with a nervous chuckle through his nose. “You know, I picked flowers for you because I like you very much and I wanted to make you feel special. You’ve spent the last few days making me, and everyone else here, feel that way. And I wanted to say thank you. What happened was in no way your fault. Nor is all the rain.”

“But—”

He put his finger over her lips. “But nothing. You have done your absolute best with what you had to work with. I think you’ll get a fantastic report after this. I mean, all the guests will give wonderful reviews. I know I will.”

Had he really just said he would give a good report?Thandie thought.Grant Goldie was the investor’s scout?She didn’t want to believe it. She was sure it was Daisy and her partner, who seemed to want nothing to do with being there at first. She couldn’t just come out and ask him and risk him thinking she was acting out of self-interest for her job and The Foundry. Even if he wasn’t the spy, it changed nothing about how she felt in that moment. His hand resting heavy on her knee, his warmth radiating off of him...

Grant’s comment had been nothing more than a man attempting to console a friend.

“You really think it’s been a good week so far?”

“I do.”

The way he said those words undid her.

His were the same words she had repeated and practiced out loud before her ill-fated wedding. The words she had imagined Davis saying to her, only now, it wasn’t Davis standing in front of her at the altar in her mind. This strong man, who made her laugh, and pushed her buttons, who was kind and caring and ridiculous, had replaced Davis in the image. Grant was standing before her, in a blue suit, with a yellow flower on his lapel, and smiling, with glistening eyes and rosy lips.

“What is it?” he asked and ripped her from her daydream.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about...” She couldn’t tell him the truth; it would frighten him. She drank some more wine. And more, finishing off the portion that he had poured. She reached across him for the bottle and proceeded to refill her own. Handing him the small bottle, exhausted of its contents, she raised her glass. “To a new friendship, and mostly dry cabins to hunker down in.”

He raised his empty glass and clinked it against hers as thunder boomed and shook the cabin. She flinched, nearly losing control of her drink, but he caught her against his body while steadying her hand that held the wineglass. As he guided her hand towards the end table, the lights flickered off.

She was in no hurry to remove herself from him, but he popped up and left her falling onto the mattress. Across the room, Grant clicked the lighter a few times at the fireplace, and the timber logs caught flame.

“You want something to eat?” he asked, but didn’t wait for her answer. Grant retrieved the plate she had left for him the night before from the fridge. In the glow of the fire, Grant cut up pieces of cold steak and skewered a bit on the end of a long fork. Repeating the action again, he handed the second one to her before grabbing another bottle of wine. “Now it’s a proper meal.”

“This is absurd. We’re eating leftover steak off of a stick, drinking too much red wine, sitting by a fire because the power is out, and the cabin might just fill up with rainwater before morning. This is not a proper meal.”

Grant took her skewer and handed her a glass back. “Drink.”

She did.

The firelight danced in his eyes and reflected the truth to her. It was the most perfect meal she had ever had with him. With anyone. She leaned toward him slowly, testing his reaction to her proximity. If their previous encounters were any indication, he would respond in kind. And he did.

Their lips met. His warm, supple skin, tasting of wine, pressed into her with small rhythmic movements. His hand came around the back of her neck and cradled it the way he had during their first encounter rolling in the mud. A throaty sigh escaped her as she melted into his embrace and wrapped her free arm around his shoulders. For a moment, it was as though every fiber of her being was grafting onto his, and she let it.

The sweet interlude was over too fast. Grant backed away first. “I want to keep kissing you, but we shouldn’t. I don’t think either of us is ready for that.” Lightning flashed and lit the room in bright white, and the thunder clapped again. He took her in his arms until the shaking was done. “It looks like you’re staying the night, though. Can we just talk?”

Thandie was not offended in the slightest. He wanted boundaries, and so did she. “I’d like that.”

CHAPTER21

Grant looked at the sleeping beauty on the floor in front of the smoldering cinders in the fireplace. Thandie had slept peacefully for hours now. He didn’t know what time they had finally dozed off, though sleep didn’t permit him much rest. Waking in a panic at the raging storm outside sometime in the black of night, he had paced the modest room and checked for more roof leaks. Finding no new drips, he emptied the nearly overflowing bowl of rainwater and placed it back on the floor.

With a chill in the air, he stoked what remained of the fire, knowing that all the rest of the wood was likely soaked outside. Grant covered Thandie with another blanket where she lay on the fur rug by the heat. Her skin radiated a warm glow, and her face was relaxed and smooth. He stayed awake and made certain that she rested unburdened by the events happening outdoors.

From a comfortable place in the crook of the leather chair’s back and armrest, he lounged until the first light of day brightened the windows. The rain still pounded the roof, although the thunder had stopped sometime in the night. In the dim light outside, he saw the damage left by the storm, likely to worsen if the rains continued.

The path leading to the barn was now a river. Tree limbs, full of new spring growth, were scattered across the lawn, and one whole tree had crashed over the split rail fence that led down to the dock. Out the front window, the once dry lakebed looked like a growing pond. Grant gazed out over the waters and could imagine what this place would have looked like in its summertime prime.

He could see Thandie leading a group of guests across the water in small canoes or teetering atop paddleboards, the sun highlighting the brighter bits of her hair and causing her already tan skin to darken. He’d come back for a retreat likethatif The Foundry survived until then.

Outside, a bell rang out from the direction of the barn, loud and sharp enough to cut through the rain hitting the roof, and robbed him of his contemplation.

Thandie sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What is that?” she said as she got her bearings.

“Sounds like it’s coming from the barn,” Grant said. “Good morning.”

---