Marissa met his gaze and he knew immediately that she knew what he was thinking. Because she was thinking it, too. Her eyes shimmered a little, as if she was trying to hold her emotions at bay. He’d seen her cry once before—the day Liz had died. She’d gone into his wife’s hospital room for a few minutes and emerged stoic and breathing deeply, until she’d made her way into the corridor. That’s when she broke down. Grady was coming from speaking with the doctor and had watched her for a moment. He hadn’t offered any comfort, because he didn’t have any to offer. There were no words. His wife was dying and he had children he had to prepare to lose their mommy. But he’d felt Marissa’s despair in that moment, right to the core of his being. At Liz’s funeral she’d held it together, as he had. She’d given the eulogy and spoken about her love and admiration for her best friend. During that day, through his grief and sense of loss, he’d appreciated how she’d kept everything running smoothly—the wake, the funeral, even putting the girls to bed with a story.
Later, after everyone had left and his daughters were finally asleep, she’d made coffee and sat at the kitchen table. He’d joined her there, sitting opposite, sipping coffee he didn’t want, wondering how he was supposed to go on, but knowing he had to for the sake of his children. In that moment, Marissa had shared his anguish as no one else could. She’d gripped his hand from across the table and held on and told him everything would be okay. And he’d believed her, trusted her, absorbed her words as if they were tonic. He owed her a lot for her strength that day.
Grady gathered his thoughts and ushered the girls away from her a little. “How about you give Marissa some space so she can relax.”
“But, Daddy, I want—”
“No buts,” he said to Breanna. “I’m going to cook dinner, so why don’t you go and get that pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator, okay?”
His daughter looked serious, but happy to do the chore, and took Milly with her.
Grady looked at Marissa. “You okay?”
She nodded and held the baby close before she placed Tina down so his youngest could play with the dolls strewn across the play mat. “Fine. Only...only I...”
“I know,” he said when her voice trailed off. “They just about break your heart.”
She nodded and sucked in a deep breath. “They miss her so much, Grady. I don’t think I realized how much until this very minute. I’m in awe of how well you’ve managed these past couple of years.”
He shrugged and moved toward the grill. “I’ve had help. My mom has been great and my cousin Brooke helps out with the girls when she can. And my best friend, Tanner, was always on hand right after Liz died.”
She shook her head ruefully. “And I went back to New York.”
“You did what you had to do,” he said and placed the steaks on the grill. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“I should have helped more. I promised Liz I’d—”
“You had your own life, Marissa. We all did. And Liz didn’t expect you to hang around town. The girls are my responsibility, not yours or anyone else’s.”
Her expression sharpened. “Is that meant to put me in my place?”
Grady felt irritation weave down his spine. He always seemed to say things she took the wrong way. “It’s meant to let you off the hook.”
* * *
Maybe he did have the right intentions. And maybe he did have a point. But Marissa was still annoyed by the arrogance of his words. As if he knew what was best for her. The inference wasn’t missed.
You should have stayed in New York...
“If you’d rather I didn’t spend time with the kids, then just say so.”
He put down the tray in his hand and turned. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Marissa glanced toward Tina to ensure the child hadn’t picked up on the sudden strain between them and then she glared at Grady. “I’m here because Breanna and Milly want me here. I’m not under any illusions, Grady. I’m sure you don’t want me one little bit.”
His expression changed instantly and his eyes widened. How long had it been since she’d noticed how brilliantly blue his eyes were? Years, maybe. Over a decade. But now they devoured her with their intensity. Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard. There was something hypnotic about his stare, as if she was being drawn deeper and deeper into it, into him. Marissa tried to look away but couldn’t. He knew it, too. She was certain of it.
“Wanting you,” he said, saying the words so slowly it was excruciating, “isn’t the issue.”
Marissa quickly realized how her words must have sounded to him. Intimate. Provocative. You don’t want me...
“I meant that you obviously don’t want me here.”
“I don’t?” he shot back. “Is that right?”
Breanna and Milly emerged through the wide doors at that moment and anything else he intended saying was clearly put on hold for the moment. Marissa plastered on a smile and chatted and played while Grady grilled steaks. Once he was done, they all sat down and Marissa watched as he put together a small plate of food for Tina and set her in a booster seat and got Breanna and Milly organized with their own plates. He was an exceptional dad. Caring and loving and exactly what she’d envisioned a father should be. She had nothing to test it against, no memory of a father or grandfather to make comparisons. But she could only think that if she ever had a child of her own one day, she’d like to share that child with a man who put his children above all others...a man who would protect his family with his last breath. A man like...Grady.
Whoa!
Marissa swallowed hard and pushed the notion from her mind. She had to. She had to forget that thought and never let it enter her head again. Because it was crazy thinking. Maybe she would get married again one day and hopefully have a child of her own...but it wouldn’t be the man now seated opposite her. He was as off-limits as anyone would ever be. No matter how good a dad he was, or how sparkling his eyes were.
“Everything all right, Marissa?” he asked, watching her. “Steak okay?”
She nodded and dished some salad onto her plate. “Looks great. Just how I like it.”
His mouth creased fractionally. “Well, I aim to please.”
He didn’t. They both knew that. There was nothing about their relationship that suggested either of them genuinely compromised when it came to one another. He would have been happier cooking her the rarest steak of the century and then telling her to deal with it. But he didn’t. Instead, he pretended interest in his food and chatted to his daughters. But Marissa wasn’t fooled. There was an undercurrent of tension whispering on the air between them, and she knew he felt it as much as she did.
Once they’d finished eating, the girls lingered over their plates and played with a couple of the dolls that decorated the table. At seven, Grady excused himself to put Tina to bed, and by the time he returned Marissa had cleared the table and was stacking the dishwasher. Breanna and Milly helped and she marveled at how easy the whole scene was—as though she’d done it a thousand times before. In that moment she felt a profound sense of loss for her best friend and said a silent prayer to Liz for allowing her to spend time with her precious daughters. Of course, it was Grady’s doing really, but the gratitude she experienced deep through to her bones made her uncomfortable. She still couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it to him.
When Grady came back into the kitchen, he told the girls to