Page 18 of New Girl in Town
He returned my smile with an easy one of his own. “Ohis right, sweetheart. Go on, finish unpacking. I’ll see you later, okay?”
I nodded and went up the stairs on numb legs to my apartment. It wasn’t until I hit the second floor that I realized just what a gift Grant had given me. Most men would have pursued me further by playing their hand early and pressing me for a date I wanted but felt unsure about.
There was no reason not to, after all. Our chemistry was electric and there was no doubt that we would end up on a second date or spending time together in the future.
Hell, we lived just a floor apart. It was bound to happen.
But that was the aggressive approach and I’d never responded to it. Maybe Grant has seen more in me than I realized and had chosen a softer way to do things because of it, or maybe that was just who he was. My heart told me it was a little bit of both. In the face of my uncertainty he’d backed off and offered me the space I needed to get to more solid ground.
I know that your brand of special is worth waiting for.
I talked down my urge to run back downstairs and schedule a date. Instead, I leaned over the railing of the second floor and called down to him.
“Hey, Grant?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He paused a beat and then sent another of his smiles my way, and it didn’t matter that there was an entire floor between us because I felt the full effect of that thousand-watt smile, and it warmed me through.
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
His words put a stupid smile on my face and I turned away before he could see how happy they made me. Hustling up the stairs, I made it into my apartment with only minimal walk-running. Once I was inside I sagged against the door with a laugh.
“Get it together,” I whispered, pushing away from the door and looking down at the mail in my hand. I began to sort though the small collection of envelopes. Until I came to one.
“No,” I whispered, dropping the letter as if I had been burnt.
How had he managed to get a letter to me? The ink was barely dry on my lease agreement.
I rubbed my eyes, staring at the letter bearing Dylan’s familiar handwriting. Even if it had been forwarded from the temporary apartment I’d leased before moving to Colorado, it wouldn't be here this fast.
Right?
But as I stood there staring at the letter like it was a snake that might bite me, I knew he’d found me. Somehow, some way, Dylan had managed to keep a close eye on me, and had sent this letter as a sign. I swallowed hard and snatched it up, turning the envelope over to see that there was no return address. Just my name, in handwriting I would know anywhere.
I tore it open with a curse to see that it was empty.
“Asshole,” I whispered, and ripped the rest of the envelope into smaller pieces with a savage jerk of my hands. I marched over to the trash and threw the pieces of paper with my ex-husband’s handwriting on it away as fast as I could.
But even letting it sit in the trash was too much for me. I ripped the trash bag out of the can and marched toward the door. I’d endured Dylan’s little mind games for long enough.
The anger in my veins was a good distraction from the fear that curled around my heart. It was easier to be angry than to be nervous, and I barely managed to catch myself before slamming the door shut behind me on the way to the dumpster.
