particularly a woman whose immediate future didn’t align with his own.
He’d worked so hard to become the man he was now, not the kid in the too-small clothes, the one always looking to make money any way he had to in order to put food on the table. When his focus had shifted, when he’d begun to think in broader terms than street smarts and day-to-day survival, he’d found his purpose. God knew he hadn’t been abstinent in the years that followed. He was no choirboy. But at the same time, a woman hadn’t figured into his long-term plans.
And yet, he was fiercely attracted to Grace. She hadn’t quite closed the door on a repeat of last night. Maybe he could see her again before they ultimately went their separate ways. And if their next time had to be their last time, he’d do his best to snuff out this burning desire he harbored for her, had harbored for her for the past three years.
Hands on the counter, he locked his elbows and leaned forward, head hanging loosely. He wanted Grace. Badly. Craved her, even. But the reality of their situation didn’t change for his wanting her. She had a life to start and so did he. Their paths probably wouldn’t cross again. His only chance was to press her for just a bit more of her now, while it was an option.
He finished brushing his teeth and stepped into the room, hand on the towel, and froze. Grace had opened the curtains just enough to peer out. Sunlight bathed her in a nimbus of brilliant gold, outlining every curve on her luscious, bare body.
Shifting, she offered him a partial profile and a wide smile. “Sun’s out today.”
“Good.” The word was little more than a croak.
Her brows drew together. “Hey. Are you okay?” She started toward him and stopped when he backed up.
Justin couldn’t think of anything beyond the woman. Heart racing and palms sweating, he shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“You seem a little shaky.”
“I am a little shaky.”
“Low blood sugar?”
“Yeah.” Easy answer. A lie, which didn’t sit well with him, but he didn’t correct himself, didn’t offer the truth.
How could he even be thinking of getting emotionally involved? She’d said she wasn’t staying in Seattle long, but even if she was only here for another couple of weeks, they could see each other again He wanted to find out what might be between them, given time and a little nurturing, a little emotional excavation. “So...what’s your next step, Grace?”
“What do you mean?”
“In life. You’ve graduated. What now?”
“You’re standing there in a towel, I’m naked, and you want to talk career planning?” Her laughter rang out in the bedroom. “You’re in a strange mood, Dr. Maxwell.”
A twinge in his chest had him rubbing his left pec. “Admittedly strange.”
“Okay, then. I have an eighty-hour job-shadowing practicum I have to complete. The college let me walk with my class at graduation, but I still have to get a passing grade on the practicum before I can implement my nefarious psychological practices on unsuspecting victims.” She raised her arms, let her head fall back and loosed an evil cackle before bursting into laughter again. Dropping her arms, she shrugged. “So eighty hours of blah, blah, blah before I officially become a psychologist.”
His chest tightened around the twinge. “Yeah? Are you staying local?”
She nodded. “Personal issues regarding my housing situation meant I had to stay close by.”
“Want to have lunch, then, say, Wednesday? We can meet somewhere midpoint for both of us.” Postcoital meal arrangements might be backward, but it would assuage the guilt needling him for the screw-and-run he’d momentarily considered. This? This he could live with. Barely.
He’d take it.
A faint blush stole across her cheeks. “Lunch? That’d be great.” The words were right, but the hesitation in them wasn’t.
“Are you allergic to lunch?” he asked as casually as he could.
“No.” She rubbed her throat, her free arm wrapping around her torso. “It’s just...you remember I’m leaving right?”
“It’s not a marriage proposal, Grace. It’s just lunch.”
She smiled up at him. “Okay, then. Downtown area would be easiest for me.”
He exhaled slowly. “Excellent.” They weren’t through with each other.
Not by a long shot.
* * *
GRACE WATCHED JUSTIN’S shoulders sag and couldn’t be sure if it was relief or disappointment. The former buoyed her while the latter stung like hell.
It shouldn’t matter. She just had to get through the next two weeks and then she was following Meg to Baltimore where she’d try to find a job. It was as far as Grace could conceivably get from Seattle, her past and her mother.
Still, watching Justin’s reaction was very much like holding on to a life vest in twenty-foot seas. A second to catch your breath before getting driven under again.
He squared his shoulders and crossed the room. “How about Tuesday? I don’t want to wait until Wednesday.” Cupping her face, he leaned in. “Say yes.” The smell of minty toothpaste on his breath combined with the scent of the hotel’s soap and shampoo on his skin to form a clean smell she knew she’d never forget.
“Yes.”
“And dinner with me Wednesday.”
“Yes.” The answer was out of her mouth before she truly considered the implications.
“Good.” He closed the distance and kissed her, lips soft yet firm as he laid claim to her mouth, owning the moment, owning her, in a way that disconcerted her. No one had ever made the effort to get to know her, to see her, to invest in her. Then Justin happened.
It was only supposed to have been one night. Not a date. No expectations. Nothing more. But he’d been so sincere in his interest, so transparent in his desire for her. What woman wouldn’t want to enjoy that for just a bit longer?
He’d caused her to reconsider everything she’d thought would be true today. And she wasn’t sure how to revise her expectations because he’d left them open-ended. Living with a “maybe” where Justin was concerned was dangerous. She needed concretes, absolutes, not maybes and what-ifs. She could manage this...this...fling if she kept it in perspective. Because while his invitations certainly changed the rules they’d established, the outcome was pre-determined and non-negotiable.
She wouldn’t allow him to derail her goals, professional or personal, no matter how long she’d wanted just what he offered right now. She’d worked too hard, made too many sacrifices to let it fall apart now because of a man...no matter how much she might want said man. With autonomy would come more opportunity, but as long as she was in Seattle? She’d always be Cindy Cooper’s daughter, the runt who couldn’t get out of the woman’s way fast enough. Grace refused to live
