Page 38 of Trusting Fate (Hope Falls: Brewed Awakenings 2)

He looked back up and saw that her mouth was slightly open, and a pink tint had flared on her cheeks. She was speechless and from the expression on her face, impressed. He liked that she was affected by seeing him shirtless. Especially since she didn’t seem like a woman who was easily impressed.

It made him feel better about the nervousness, jealousy, and borderline stalker behavior.

As much as he was enjoying watching her watch him, the sweats he was wearing were loose-fitting and unless he wanted to embarrass himself by popping wood like a hormonal middle schooler, he needed her to stop looking at him like that.

“Grace.” Her name came out sounding much gruffer than he’d meant it to.

She blinked and sucked in a startled breath as her eyes flew to his. “Sorry, um...” She licked her lips nervously which did not help his efforts to keep his pants from tenting. The sight of her pink tongue sliding along her full lips brought back vivid memories of that same tongue and lips sucking him off.

He cleared his throat. “You said you needed to speak to me.”

Her eyes widened. “I did?”

He waited, wondering if she was just tired or if the sight of him shirtless had actually gotten her this flustered. He really hoped that it was the latter.

She stared at him blankly for a few beats before she blinked and jumped slightly in her chair, as if she’d just remembered something. “Oh right, I did. Yes, um...” She reached over and gathered some papers together then pulled them to her side of the table. “Would you like to sit?”

Her voice sounded much more business-like now and he had to admit that hearing her sound so no-nonsense was kinda hot. Hell, who was he kidding it was very fucking hot. Which was even more reason for him to sit his ass down. Then if anything did pop up, it would be covered by the table.

He pulled out a chair and noticed that her lips were moving as if she was practicing what she was about to say. It was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

When he lowered onto his chair, she looked over at him and froze when she saw the expression on his face. “What?”

“What, what?” he repeated.

“What...” She lifted her hand and waved it toward him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Shit. His mom had always said that one of her favorite things about him was that she always knew what he was feeling. In a house filled with four sons and a husband, she’d been surrounded by testosterone and his brothers had all inherited his dad’s stoicism. He had not.

He’d never really cared one way or another about that particular trait but at times like these it bit him in the ass. He hadn’t meant to broadcast what he was thinking about her on his face in HD. He figured since he’d confessed that he’d been jealous and nervous around her in their last conversation, telling her that she was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen in this one might be overkill.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” she refuted. “Why were you looking at me like that?”

Well, fuck, if she wasn’t going to let it drop, he didn’t know what else to do. First, he wanted to make sure that she really wanted to know.

He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Do you really want me to tell you?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and he saw a flash of fire in them. “I’m not in the habit of asking questions I don’t want the answers to.”

The left corner of his lip twitched before curling up in half-grin. “I was looking at you like that because you are the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”

He expected her to have some reaction to his statement. Nothing over the top but a smile, her eyes widening, something. Instead, she just continued staring at him. He wasn’t sure if this was a lawyer tactic or not, but if it was it was working. He suddenly felt the need to defend his stance.

“I’m a lot of things”—she paused— “adorable is not one of them.”

Her statement wasn’t one that was made from a place of low self-esteem or shyness, like when you complimented someone and they dismiss it or you could see that it made them uncomfortable. No, Grace’s response was different. She’d said the word adorable as if it were an insult.

It made Easton wonder what her issue with it could be.

He wanted to ask why that word had offended her, but he knew when to retreat. So instead, he just lifted his left shoulder in a shrug with an expression that clearly communicated this was an agree-to-disagree situation so they should just move on.

Grace didn’t take the out. Instead, she doubled down furthering the inquest. “What made you say I was adorable?”

“You were mouthing words like you were practicing what you were about to say. I thought it was cute.”

She hadn’t responded the way he’d expected her to when he’d said that she was adorable, and she sure as hell didn’t respond the way he’d expected her to when he explained why he had.

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