Page 51 of Something Borrowed

Shit. Brigid had forgotten they had talked about it on Tuesday. Now she had to find somewhere to stay. “Fine, can you guys drop me off in town? I can grab a bus from there to the hotel.”

Wyatt walked back in the room in time to hear the last statement. “Sure. Grab your things. We can wait a few minutes.”

Brigid ran upstairs to throw a few things in her bag. She didn’t see Grady’s duffel, so Matthew must have been right that he was planning to stay at the cottage. She grabbed her things and made it out front to catch up with Wyatt and Anna. Her stomach rumbled, and she realized it was lunchtime. For the first time in a long time, she was starved. Maybe it was all that exercise from the night before. Her lips curved into a smile as she remembered the way she burned those calories and with whom she burned them. Why the heck was she even considering the hotel when she could bunk with Grady at the cottage? After last night, would he turn her away? He had said he loved her, then ran out this morning after she had not reciprocated. Maybe it was time she confronted her feelings and faced Grady the way she had faced everything else in her life. Head on.

“Wyatt? Would you mind a slight detour?”

ChapterTwenty-One

Brigid waved goodbye to Wyatt and Anna, wishing Wyatt luck. Anna had been brittle most of the week, but working at the theater had mellowed her a bit. Still, would she give Wyatt a break at all? Brigid had her own issues to deal with. Time to see if last night was an aberration or the start of something. She hefted her bag onto the porch and rang the bell. Music echoed through the house, so she couldn’t tell if the bell worked. Maybe she should just let herself in. But she hesitated, wanting Grady to invite her and not just barge in.

When time dragged on and no one came, she rang the bell again and banged on the door. What if Grady had left with one of the contractors? His truck was in the driveway, but that meant nothing. She tried the door, and it was locked. Damn. At that moment, she heard a noise from the back of the house. Hammering.

Leaving her bag on the porch along with lunch, she walked around the back, bracing herself against the wind blowing off the Gulf of Mexico. She rounded the back of the house and saw a ladder against the house, Grady at the top, the ladder shaking a little in the wind. He was shirtless and only wearing a pair of cargo shorts low on his hips thanks to the heavy tool belt. Her mouth dried at the sight, and she swallowed convulsively. Damn, he was a fine-looking man, better than any lawyer she had ever seen.

“Hey, Grady,” she called up to him when she could speak.

“Grab me a couple of nails in the bucket,” he called back, not even looking down.

She glanced around and found the bucket under a bush, protected from the wind. She grabbed a few nails then looked up. “Um, how do you expect me to get it up there?”

At the sound of her voice, his head whipped down. The board he was holding shifted, and he cursed. “Damn it, Brigid. What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was bringing you lunch. Were you expecting someone else?”

He cursed again as the board listed and slipped. “Get up on that step ladder there and help me.”

Ah, shit. She hated heights. He knew that, but he needed her. And she had faced that damned rock wall for him. She could do this. She darted a glance from the ladder to Grady, forming up her resolve. Yes, she could totally handle this. She just needed a moment.

“Anytime, Brigid. I don’t have time for your hysteria.” He scowled at her, clearly in no mood for shit.

The ladder wasn’t very high, about six steps. She could handle that, as long as she didn’t look down. And as long as the wind gusts stayed quiet. And as long as she didn’t think about it. Kind of like the rest of her life.

“Okay, I’m coming. Hold your pants.” Although she wouldn’t mind if they slipped a little further. He had a superb ass.

She scrambled up the few steps until she could hand him the nails and reach the bottom edge of the board. The ladder tilted a little in the soft soil, but she steadied herself against the side of the house and swallowed, trying desperately to think of anything but falling to her death. Not that a fall from the ladder would kill her.

Grady finished nailing the board and descended. She followed, happy to be on solid ground again.

He wiped his hands and then planted them on his hips. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugged. “Thought you could use some lunch.”

His face gave nothing away. He glanced at her empty hands.

She frowned. “I left it on the front porch.”

“I could eat. Bring the nails.” His tone was neutral, and he pulled the ladder away from the house, carrying it around to the front. She followed more slowly, bringing the bucket of nails.

She scowled at his back, though she itched to trace the muscles and taste the sweat. “I would think you’d be a little more friendly after last night and considering I brought food. Or were you expecting someone else?”

“I thought Janine was stopping by to help board up the windows. We haven’t gotten the shutters up yet, so I thought better to be safe.”

“I can help with that.”

He arched a brow at her. “Really? You hate heights.”

“Hey, I climbed that damned rock wall the other night, and I volunteered with Habitat for Humanity. And I just climbed a freakin’ ladder for you.”

---