that he’d moved the router in his own cabin, which should give her access to his connection, but apparently it hadn’t done the trick. She wasn’t quite ready to chat with Grant in real time. She needed the mortification of the previous night to settle a little longer before she crossed that bridge, so she sent him another text. But after a few minutes, she hadn’t heard back. She stared down at the absent signal icon on the tablet. “Damn.”
She frowned at the screen. She should go to bed. What good would seeing it be anyway? Why torture herself? But the urge to have that closure was too strong. With a sigh, she got up and toed on her tennis shoes. If Grant wasn’t answering a text, he probably wasn’t home. She could probably sneak over to his yard and borrow his signal long enough to see the show.
Not ready to repeat the debacle from last night, she made sure she had a flashlight before heading out. The walk over wasn’t very long and if she stayed on the gravel path this time, she’d be fine. Plus, being sober always helped. She grabbed her backpack and slipped the tablet inside, then locked up behind her. Grant had told her the grounds were secure and locking doors wasn’t necessary, but frankly, at night the place looked ripe for a Friday the 13th installment. And she’d prefer to skip the ax murdering tonight.
She walked carefully along the path, making sure to keep an ear out for any animal sounds and holding the light out in front of her. But besides a rabbit that darted in front of her and inspired a near heart attack, she was alone on her trip over. Grant’s porch light came into view and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. His truck was there.
She paused, suddenly panicked that he’d discover her out there. What if he wanted to discuss last night? Or had a woman over or something? She didn’t know anything about his life really. Hell, maybe he had a girlfriend and that’s why he’d left last night. She sniffed. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Charli. She’d known exactly why he’d turned away. And it wasn’t because of another woman. The way he’d reacted hadn’t left much room for interpretation. It was simple. He was appalled by the thought of kissing her.
It was like high school and college all over again. She was the girl who was okay to fool around with on the sly for a fun night here or there, but not the girl guys actually wanted to date. She was a buddy fuck. Always had been and seemed always would be. She scanned the area for a somewhat safe place to sit and spotted a simple wooden bench beneath one of the large oaks at the edge of his yard. It was shrouded in the shadows and close enough to probably get the signal she’d come for in the first place, but far enough that Grant wouldn’t see her if he happened to step outside. She headed over, parked on the bench, and pulled out her tablet.
The signal wasn’t perfect, but it was there. She cued up her station’s Internet feed and selected the most recent show. Most of today’s scores she’d already heard, so she skimmed through that and made it to the part she’d been both looking for and dreading. The nightly anchors invited Stormy to sit at the desk with them and introduced her. Jack, head anchor, smiled an all-teeth smile at Stormy while he asked her questions and surreptitiously checked out her too-low-cut top. If he’d been a cartoon character, his tongue would’ve rolled out of his mouth and smacked the desk. And even worse were the Internet messages from viewers below the video. No one, of course, commented on whether or not Stormy had sports knowledge or experience. It was all talk of how hot the new sideline reporter was.
Charli’s dinner churned in her stomach, and she clicked the off button. Well, apparently they’d nailed their target market. The market that had no interest in her. But before she could fall back into that lovely dark place of feeling sorry for herself, the front door of the cabin opened and Grant stepped out. She instinctively shrunk backward, making sure she stayed cloaked in the shadows of the oak. The last thing she needed was Grant finding her out here and adding creepy stalker to her list of attributes along with girl who throws herself at men whilst drunk.
He glanced around the yard, but not with intent, then shut the door behind him. He was still fully dressed in what she was beginning to think was his uniform—plaid shirt and worn jeans, but he’d taken his hat off, revealing that dark wavy hair of his beneath. Her fingers flexed, remembering what it felt like between her fingers, wondering how that shadow of a beard would feel against her skin.
Stop it. Even knowing he had no interest in her, she couldn’t stop herself from the fantasies. It was as if his presence scrambled the signals in her brain—making her think things she never thought, want things she’d never considered. But after the humiliation of last night, she’d needed to get herself together and show him that she wasn’t some desperate woman trying to get his attention. He couldn’t know that he had any power over her. Not if they were going to exist together these next few weeks. They would need to agree to forget what happened last night and move on. Delete that episode altogether.
Just not tonight. She wasn’t ready for that conversation quite yet.
She held her breath, though at this distance there was no way he’d be able to hear her breathe, and watched. She expected him to head to his truck, but instead he turned at the far corner of the house and walked away from her and toward the resort. Apparently, he was going to work, but what would a resort need the owner for this late at night? Wouldn’t everyone be settling in or sleeping by now?
Once he was far enough away, she let her lungs empty and tucked her computer back into her knapsack. She’d be able to escape to her cabin without him ever knowing she was here if she left now. But as she watched Grant’s sauntering gait disappear into the night, she found herself rising from the bench and heading away from her cabin instead of toward it, the draw of the unknown too tempting for her reporter instincts.
If he could install a tracking device on her car, then she could be nosy, too.
She tucked her bag behind a bush near the back side of his cabin, then picked up her pace so she wouldn’t lose him. She kept a decent distance behind him. Grant had been in the military and so undoubtedly had finely tuned senses for people sneaking up on him. And the grounds were so damn quiet, one snapped twig and she’d reveal herself. But Grant never looked back, just continued to stride with that swagger of his. A man on a mission by the looks of it. Maybe something had gone wrong at the resort and he had been called over.
Grant opened the padlocked gate that led to the other side of the property, and Charli ducked behind a tree as he turned to swing the gate closed behind him. Some creepy-crawly thing landed on Charli’s arm and it took everything she had not to yelp and shake it off. Grant snapped the lock closed, the sound echoing in the silence, and continued on his way. As soon as his back was to her again, she did a little shake and got the damn bug off her arm, shuddering. She’d rather face a coyote than bugs.
In order to follow Grant, she had to climb over the low post-and-rail wooden fence, which made her glad she’d chosen sneakers tonight. She hopped down to the other side and glanced around, half-expecting a SWAT team to lower down from the surrounding trees. Grant had made everything sound so top secret over here.
But no one came to tackle her, and she was able to catch sight of Grant again in no time. There were paved paths on this side with solar-powered garden lights lining some portions of the trails. The wild Texas brush and trees were trimmed back and looked neater, more manicured. There really was no way to remain hidden, so instead she pushed her shoulders back and tried to pretend like she belonged there. If anyone but Grant saw her, maybe they’d assume she was another guest.
The main house loomed in the distance—a breathtakingly large building of cedar and river rock. Lights glittered around its perimeter but the few windows she could see were all dark. She had no idea if the main building had rentable rooms or if it was just the place for dining rooms and spas or whatever the hell rich people needed on their rustic vacation. Regardless, Grant seemed to be making a beeline in
