Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector #2)(28)
“It’s coffee. Remember? Not godforsaken muckwater just because you don’t like it.”
Thank the gods. The woman speaks! “Aye, I remember.” Grant held open the heavy oak door to the inn. “And ye’ve got the right of it. I canna stomach the stuff, but Alec’s wife calls coffee the black nectar of the gods.”
“I’m definitely on the black nectar of the gods’ team.” Joanna yawned and selected a corner booth. She slid into the seat, swooped her sunglasses off, and tossed them to the table. She covered her face with both hands and massaged the inner corners of her eyes with her fingertips.
Ahh…his sweet lady was bone-tired. That was it. The poor lass’s red-rimmed eyes with bluish shadows smudged beneath gave testament to her lack of sleep. No wonder she’d worn the dark glasses. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I apologize for yer weariness, but…” He paused and lightly traced slow, lazy circles across the silky back of her hand. “In my mind, ’twas well worth it.”
Joanna managed a faint smile. “It was worth being a bit drag-assy for a day.” Her gaze dropped to the table, but not before Grant spotted something quite troubling in her eyes. “I’m just not so sure it was worth all the other repercussions.” She gently eased her hand out from under his, then leaned back on the bench and stared down at her lap.
“What other ‘repercussions’?”
“I shouldn’t have let it happen. None of it. Not the woods and definitely not my room. There’s too much at stake here.” Joanna waved down the girl prepping the heavy wooden tables of the dining room with roughly woven napkins, wooden platters, and heavy rustic silverware. She held up her travel mug. “Could I have a refill on coffee, please? Black. Strongest you’ve got.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The waitress, dressed as a Highland bar wench, hurried back to the kitchen.
“What the hell are ye sayin’?” Grant cleared his throat and lowered his voice as a small group of early-morning tourists filed into the restaurant. “What repercussions?”
“Personal and professional repercussions,” Joanna said in a whispered hiss as the waitress appeared out of nowhere with her coffee.
“Can I bring you a scone, some parritch, or something else for your breakfast?” The young waitress smiled at Joanna but her gaze kept darting over to Grant as she preened closer to him, arching her back and flaunting the low, rounded neckline of her long dress. “What can I get for you today, Mr. Grant?”
“Nothing for me, lass, thank ye.” Grant restrained himself from shooing the girl away. It wasn’t the waitress’s fault that Joanna had just as good as told him t’go straight t’hell.
“Just coffee for now, thanks,” Joanna added.
“Tell me what you mean.” Grant grit his teeth. When he’d left Joanna’s bed that morning, he’d felt more alive than he had since before the damned goddesses destroyed all his hopes and dreams. He’d felt lighter and filled with anticipation. Like a weight had been lifted and he’d been made whole again. Now the weight was back, bearing down and threatening to crush him.
Joanna stared down at her cup, gripping the handle in her right hand and rubbing her thumb along the black rim of the lid. “Have you ever heard the saying ‘Don’t dip your pen in the company’s ink’ or ‘Don’t shit in the same place you eat’?”
“What the hell is yer meanin’?” Grant took in a deep breath and held it. He must not raise his voice or lose his temper. ’Twould no’ be fair to Joanna to cause a scene—especially if he hoped to rid her mind of whatever foolishness was givin’ her pause about the fact that she now belonged to him—and he belonged to her.
“You and I have a professional relationship. Carolina Adventures is also trying to get a permanent year-round contract with Highland Life and Legends. How do you think it looks for me to be sleeping with one of the board members?”
“I dinna give a damn how it looks.” Grant pried Joanna’s coffee out of her grip, set it aside, then scooped up her hands and held them tight between his. “?’Tis no one’s business but our own,” he added.
“You know better than that. You can’t take a crap around here without everyone knowing what color it is. Small-town gossip is faster than high-speed internet.” Joanna finally looked up at him, her green eyes dark and sad. “And I don’t want your family thinking I’m a slut. I don’t usually do what we did yesterday with men I don’t know all that well. I mean…I know I know you, but I don’t really know you. You know?”
“Yer no’ makin’ a bit a sense. Like hell ye dinna know me. We’ve been flittin’ about each other like moths to a flame for nigh on a year and a half now—almost two. Ye canna tell me that ye didna think last night was a possibility—destiny even.” Grant slowly exhaled, the tension easing just a bit. She wasna angry with him. She was concerned about gossip. Thank the stars above and the fires below. “And my family willna think ill of ye. They’ll just be glad that I’m easier t’live with, ye ken? They’ll more than likely thank ye.”
“And that’s another thing.” Joanna’s voice dropped so low, Grant had to lean forward to hear her. Her reddish-blond brows knotted together as she fixed him with a sad but determined look. “I’ve heard rumors. About…about…what an asshole you can be. Sorry—but that’s what I’ve heard. And there’s been talk about your moodiness. I can’t…” Her words drifted off and she broke eye contact, staring down at the table. “I can’t go through a relationship even close to that again.”