Arm Candy (Real Love #2)(39)

“You don’t owe me anything, Gracie.” Talking to her made everything better, and I want to be here for her in case unloading to me sets her mind at ease. “But yeah. Why don’t you tell me a story?”

Her shoulders lift and drop with a heavy sigh. I’m not sure if she’s going to tell me any more or not. Then she does.

“My father used to be a suit-and-tie guy like you. He was a lawyer. He and my mom had one of the worst marriages on the planet. They stayed together for me, or so they said, but I didn’t reap many benefits from the additional years of them fighting.”

Her eyes lose focus across the room again. I squeeze her hand to bring her back to me.

“Did he…hit you? Did he…?” I can hardly ask, but I have to know. It’s clear there’s a chasm between Grace and her father. I want to know how wide it is. “Did he hurt you?”

Her face broadcasts so much surprise, I know I’m wrong. Thank God.

“No. Not like you mean. He was loud, and he was angry a lot, but he never laid a hand on me.”

I let out a breath that I was holding hostage in my lungs.

“Thanks for worrying.” She touches my chest.

“Can’t help it.” I care about Grace. I don’t want anyone to hurt her—past, present, or future. She deserves happiness. Safety. A future free of worry. I feel my eyebrows pull together as I consider being the person to give her those things. It’s not a bad consideration.

“Once he left my mom, he changed. Swapped the sedan for a motorcycle. Started hanging around a rougher crowd. Quit his job. My mom and I thought he was on drugs, and he probably was for a while there. I don’t know. He popped into my life once or twice a year at first, and I tried to reel him back in. Tried to make it work between us even though he was the one digging the divide.

“The last straw came when I invited him to my college graduation. He never showed.” She shakes her head, sadness wafting off her. “That sounds petty now.”

I squeeze her hand in support.

“Anyway, I expected him to show up for my graduation. I needed him to show. Christmases, birthdays could fall by the wayside because there was always another coming the next year. But I worked hard for my degree. I wanted him to be there and…I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“You wanted him to be proud of you. It’s not stupid.”

“He came to see me at my apartment a few days after that.” She bites the side of her cheek as tears pool in her eyes. “With a huge frame for my degree. I didn’t answer the door, so he left it by the mat. Every other year or so, I’ll find an expensive gift on my doorstep. A fountain pen. A leather journal. Fancy tea.”

Her lashes flutter and a tear escapes. She brushes it away, almost angrily.

“He never shows up. Never.”

“I’m so sorry, Grace.” What else is there to say? The father who should’ve been there for her only ever showed up on his terms. Even tonight, he delivered the worst possible news in the worst possible way.

It’s bullshit, but she’s processing a lot right now. My being pissed off isn’t going to help, no matter how tempted I am to remind her what a fuck nugget he is for neglecting her.

“I’ve taken up enough of your evening with this stuff.” She stands and physically distances herself from me, grabbing her coat and purse from the other side of the room. “Thanks for the bailout. I owe you one.”

As she slides her arms into her coat, I stand and cram my hands into my pants pockets. “You don’t owe me anything.”

I don’t want her to go. I don’t want her to climb into her bed and cry herself to sleep. I don’t want her to be alone.

“You went above and beyond,” she tells me, her armor locking into place. She shoulders her purse, and when she grasps the handrail for the stairs, I say the first thing I think of that might get her to stay a few minutes longer.

“My dad died when I was nine.”

Her grip tightens on the railing. She looks over her shoulder at me, her red hair bright against her gray jacket, her green eyes flooding with concern.

“He was in a car accident and my mom, who was always flighty and had one foot out the door as it was, showed up to the hospital for about fifteen minutes before she skipped town for good. I was there with my grandmother—my dad’s mom—and after my mom left, Grandma Rose raised me.” Hands in my pockets, I shrug. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to him. He never woke up.”

Her brows bend in sympathy.

“My mom left and never came back,” I say. “If she showed up out of the blue today and told me she had six months to live, I’d…” I shake my head, at a loss. “I have no clue how I’d react.” I push a curl from Grace’s cheek. “I’d probably go home with you and shake in your arms.”

Grace gives me a weak smile.

“You don’t have to know what to do right now. You don’t have to be in control of your feelings. Hell, you don’t have to do anything. He laid this at your feet, Gracie. It’s not your battle to shoulder. But one thing is for certain.”

I tip her chin so that she’s looking at me.

“You don’t have to be alone tonight.”





Grace


I stayed.