Page 32 of Never Always
He brings his hands up to the sides of my face and says with force, “No nerd deserves this more. I’m so proud of you.”
I grin. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good, I meant it that way.” His gaze flicks to my lips. “Hungry?” He releases me and his footsteps are heavy as he makes his way into the kitchen, my bag in his hand.
“I could eat.” Looking around, I realize how homey his living room is. “Your house is nice, Grange.” I suppose I expected the typical bachelor pad, but this looks like it’s had a woman’s touch. I swallow hard. Sierra. I bet she’s responsible for the art deco pillows on the sleek navy sectional. There’s a diptych on the opposite wall of a stunning, blue-aqua sea. “Like really nice,” I mutter under my breath.
“When I’m home, I want it to feel like home,” Grange says, peeking in, frying pan in hand.
I meet his gaze. “Did you decorate yourself… or hire someone? It looks straight from a magazine.”
Is he going to lie? “You could say that. Sierra is a decorator by trade. But I had a say so in everything.” Not a lie. I’m relieved and sickened at the same time. “I got rid of some of the shit I wasn’t crazy about when she broke it off. I would have picked all of this stuff myself, she just arranged it so it looks better.”
The mention of her eats at me. Now I really feel sick. It takes actual effort to sit on the couch.
“Are you okay?” Grange asks, coming into the room fully, a dishtowel slung over his shoulder. “I promise I’m not going to poison you. Tonight, anyway.”
I laugh, bringing my hands up to cover my face. “Have you ever met someone who can’t keep secrets?” Groaning, I shake my head. If I tell him, the whole night will be ruined by his rage, his pain. “I’m one of those people, Grange. When I was ten, my mom told me what she got my dad for his birthday. It ate me alive. My dad being the jokester he is, kept pestering me to tell him what it was. Gifts are fun, but this secret felt too big. I broke down crying and told Dad about the leather bi-fold wallet she bought him. I spared no detail—described it in perfect detail.” When I look up, Grange is trying to stifle a smile.
“I know what this is about, I think.” After putting the pan back in the kitchen, he comes to sit next to me. Placing a large hand on my knee, he says, “Rexy told me about Ariel. The night with Sierra. About what Ariel told you at the pool.”
Looking up to the ceiling, I sigh loud and long. “Oh, thank God!” Relief doesn’t define what I’m feeling.
He chuckles. “You’re a bit of a dick for not telling me, but I get why you didn’t. I wasn’t holding it against you. Didn’t see the need to bring it up again.” Is he really being practical? That’s not Corrick Granger at all.
“I am not a dick! She asked me woman to woman to keep her secret. I only told Maeve because I was worried you might find out in an alternative way. And we all know how dangerous that could be.”
He shrugs. “I would have told you if the roles were reversed. I knew Ariel drugged me with something.”
“You did?”
“There is no way I could have been persuaded to cheat on Sierra any other way, Fire. That’s not the kind of man I am regardless of my newly minted status as a cheater. I didn’t know Sierra was behind it, but I’m honestly not surprised. I told you already, I’m glad it happened.”
“I still don’t know how you can say you’re glad. It doesn’t make any sense. You loved her enough to ask her to marry you.”
His gaze is crackling blue fierce. “I could be married to that woman right now. While she fucked her boyfriend on the side. She could be playing me for a fool. Sierra strung me along until she found what she thought was a better option.” He swallows. “Knowing exactly what happened that night makes more sense. I’m thankful Sierra was responsible in some way. It helped me let it go completely. I’m over that whole chapter.”
I look down to his hand, he guides my face to turn to his with one finger under my chin. “You are the best thing that’s happened to me.”
His statement takes my breath away. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. See? This is what happens when you keep secrets. The world shouldn’t have any secrets. It would uncomplicate so many things.
Grange exhales a long sigh. “I forgive you.” Bringing his lips down, he presses them on the corner of my mouth. Not a kiss. A tease. “Better for Rexy to sugar coat it anyway. He performed a dramatic play to tell me. It was quite entertaining.” He smiles thinking about his friend, and licks his lips.
“I really want to kiss you,” I say, words a breathy plea.
Pulling away, he drops his hand. “You know the rules.” He winks. “Come. Dinner is ready.”
His back is wide and unforgiving as I watch it retreat into the kitchen. It’s a large room for the size of his house and has top of the line appliances. I try not to think about Sierra choosing her dream kitchen as I take in the white cabinets and stainless appliances. The white quartz counters are impeccable. This room also has a new feel to it. He heads to the oven and takes out a baking dish. “Two things,” I say, anticipating him turning to set it on the counter. “How is the best sex of my life supposed to exclude kissing on lips? I want to negotiate it in, and second, how are you not mad at Sierra or her boyfriend?”
He turns, looks me dead in the eye and says, “Oh, I’m going to kill him. Still planning it out.” Seconds pass and his face remains stoic. I feel the blush creeping from the nape of my neck to my face. Grange chuckles. “I’m joking. Who do you think I am?”
I sigh. “All this serial killer talk on the news has me not finding humor in slaying.”
“I hope that they live happily ever after until Sierra finds someone new and breaks his small-dicked heart. In this case, it’s better to let karma do her job. Don’t you think?”
I stutter. “That’s so mature of you. When did you decide to take the high road?”
“Since I got something worth keeping.” He doesn’t look at me while he serves dinner—seared scallops with linguine and a salad.
