Arm Candy (Real Love #2)(31)

“I guess that’s up to the shrinks to decide, isn’t it?” I joke, but sober quickly. “I loved her. I wanted to have a family and settle down and do the whole nine yards. She pulled that rug out from under me and I…”

I pause to think of the phrase that would describe how I felt afterward.

“I scrambled to make sense of my life for a while. Then I realized that life doesn’t make any sense and you can only do your best each day. So I dusted off my bruised ego and my sprained pride and put myself back in the game.”

“With rules.”

“A few.” I thought they’d protect me. “It’s not about the hair color. Not really. I didn’t want the reminder of a time when my life was spiraling out of control.”

Wow. That was honest.

“That makes total sense.”

The knot in my chest loosens. It means a lot that she understands.

“You were going to be a family man, and now you spend several nights a week at a bar.” She shakes her head. “I have a lot of regulars, but you are the most attractive. The youngest. The most successful. Why do you do it? Why do you sit alone and sip Sam Adams at McGreevy’s?”

“Truth?” I ask rhetorically. We’re wading so deep in truth I’m about to need a snorkel.

Grace nods.

“It’s too quiet here. After that bell dings signaling the stock market is closed, I wrap up my day and then I don’t know what to do next. Some nights the TV is enough company. Others…” I shake my head, at a loss for an excuse, before resigning myself to the truth. “It’s not enough.”

Her sigh comes from the depths. It’s a lot to take in, I suppose. I wouldn’t know. My dates and I rarely cross the boundary of shallow chitchat.

Rather than sharing how she relates to my loneliness, she changes the topic. “My best friend, Roxanne, is engaged. She and Mark are considering a destination wedding.” Grace shifts away from me to pull a pillow under her head. I roll to my side to face her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“In her defense, I’m sure my situation was the exception.”

“It’s not that. It’s just…she seems to be rushing into it. He’s older than her and quieter than anyone I ever pictured her with. She’s this feisty free-spirit and he’s…I don’t know. Not right for her.”

As she describes them, my thoughts turn to us. Grace is the embodiment of feisty free-spiritedness and, while I’m not quiet, I wonder if she sees me as “not right for her.”

“Why did you hesitate when I asked you out?” I ask. “Not to brag, but I don’t hear no very often.”

She makes a choking noise to broadcast her exasperation. “Because you’re so irresistible to women?”

“I think it’s the lack of substance they’re attracted to.” Apparently once I start telling the truth, I can’t stop. I press my lips together to keep from saying more as Grace’s exasperation evaporates and concern takes its place.

“I can’t tell if you’re kidding right now.”

“Not kidding. Making an honest observation.”

“You have plenty of substance. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.” She props herself up on her elbow again, exposing her breasts as the sheet slides away. “You know what happened is Hanna’s fault, right? Her walking out on you at the last minute without a word to anyone was cowardly. How hard is it to confess she’s having second thoughts before you were waiting for her to walk to you on your wedding day?”

A deep pleat forms on Grace’s brow.

“I can’t blame you for wanting to move on. I can even understand your banning redheads. Why revisit that pain? Why subject yourself to repeating the past? We have to protect ourselves when things go wrong—no one else is going to do it for us. No one else is going to stand in our corner when we need support. We’re all out here on our own making the best of things.”

She grows quiet and I figure it’s because she realizes she’s stopped talking about me and started talking about herself.

“Who didn’t protect you when you needed them, Gracie Lou?” I ask.

She sucks in a breath before forcing a laugh. “No one.”

“Someone.” I wait. She remains silent. I’m not going to push her. It took me six years to tell someone I’m dating about Hanna. Except Grace and I aren’t dating any longer. Not after tonight. That was the deal.

I roll her to her back, me on top, and steal a kiss and her breath away. Her hands are on my face and her breasts flatten against my chest. She feels good. Smells great. That cinnamon-y floral scent punches me in the gut.

“Hell of a way to end things, huh?” I stroke her hair away from her smooth cheek.

She gives me a sad smile. “Right. I guess this was time number three.”

“You look disappointed.” That seems right. So am I.

“No, I just…wasn’t thinking about the rules.”

I get more comfortable, pushing her legs apart and settling my hips against hers. “Rules were made to be bent.”

“Why not enjoy tonight?” she asks, but she’s not really asking. She lifts her chin to kiss me, crossing her legs around my waist at the same time.

After that, we enjoy ourselves again.