Unfortunately, she’d passed all too soon.
Grant’s eyes drifted to the cemetery, then back to Tessa, who was also looking toward the graves...and he knew.
“You want to go see her?” he asked softly.
A brief smile spread across Tessa’s face as she nodded. “You don’t have to come, but I can’t drive out here and not go visit.”
Without a word, Grant slid his hand into hers and headed up the slope. He let her take the lead and found himself standing in the shade of a large oak tree. The sunny spring day had a bit of chill to the air, so he slipped his arm around Tessa’s shoulders.
Or that’s what he told himself. Honestly, he wanted her to know she wasn’t alone, wanted her to know he was here. He couldn’t fathom the heartache of losing his mother. Nearly losing his sister had crushed him, leaving him in a world he couldn’t even describe.
“This never seems real,” Tessa whispered. “I should be used to not having her, but I always feel... I don’t know. I guess I feel something is missing.”
Grant stared down at the polished black stone with a single rose emblem beside the name Rose Barrington.
“I can’t imagine the void that slips into your life,” he told her. “Nothing replaces that.”
The hole in his heart for his sister had never been filled...never would be unless he faced her.
“You just learn to cope,” Tessa said softly. “There’s no other choice.”
Grant let the gentle breeze envelop them, allowing the silence to take over. He had no idea what to say, so he said nothing. There was no need to try to fill the moment with useless words.
Tessa bent down, rested her hand over her mother’s name and whispered something. He took a step back to allow her more privacy. Other than his sister, his heart had never ached for another woman until now.
Even though her mother had been gone fifteen years, Tessa was obviously very torn up. More than likely coming here for her was both comforting and crushing. And seeing Tessa so vulnerable wasn’t something he’d planned on.
At one time Grant’s family had been close, had had a bond that he’d thought nothing could destroy. But he’d murdered that when—
“You okay?”
Grant shook off his thoughts and realized Tessa had come to her feet and was studying him.
“Fine,” he told her, refusing to let past demons haunt him. “I wanted to give you some privacy.”
She moved on through the cemetery, and he followed, taking in strangers’ names and various dates. Some stones were obviously decades old, and others were fairly new.
“This area holds a lot of meaning to your family,” he commented as Tessa moved in behind the church.
Large trees shaded the entire area, providing a canopy over the stones. Grant could hardly wait to show Bronson and Anthony the stunning scene.
“I hope to marry here someday,” Tessa said. “I still have my mother’s wedding dress. It’s old, but it’s so simple and classy, I want to wear it.”
Grant could see her with her auburn hair pulled back in a timeless style, and wearing a vintage gown. She’d make the most alluring of brides.
He wasn’t too happy thinking of another man waiting for her at the end of the aisle, but it was hardly his place to worry about such things. After all, in a few months he’d be out of her life.
“I bet you have everything all planned out in a color-coded spreadsheet,” he teased as he stopped and turned to look down at her. “I’d guess you have each detail, down to the shade of each flower.”
Tessa narrowed her eyes, tilted her chin. “Maybe I do.”
Grant laughed. “Nothing to get defensive about, Country. Some people are just wired to never relax.”
“I relax,” she countered, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m relaxing right now.”
He took a step forward; she took a step back. They danced that way for a few moments until Tessa’s back was up against an old weeping willow.
Grant rested an arm on the trunk above her head and smiled when she had to tip her head to look up at him.
“You’re relaxed?” he asked. “The only time you’ve fully relaxed with me was when my mouth was on yours. You never take downtime, and you work yourself too hard.”
“That’s not true,” she said, her words coming out almost a whisper.
Grant took his free hand and traced a line up her neck, right over her pounding pulse. “Really?”
Tessa continued to hold his gaze, never wavering. And he wanted to keep her guessing what he’d do next.
“Then in that case—” he leaned down, coming within a breath of her lips “—have dinner with me.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Slick.”
“Sure it is.” Grant eased back, just enough to give her room to breathe. “You pick the day and time. I can work around you, but I want to have dinner with you, and I want you to take one evening to do absolutely nothing.”
“I’m training,” she insisted. “I have way too much to do and...”
“And what?”
“And I can’t think when I’m with you,” she whispered. “I want things, things I shouldn’t. I can’t get involved, Grant.”
“With me or with anybody?” he asked, resisting the urge to kiss her until she lost her train of thought. But she was torn, and emotional right now.
That made two of them.
“Anybody.” She placed her hands on his chest and eased him farther away as she straightened from the tree. “Besides, we couldn’t be more different, and when the film is over, you’ll be gone. I already said I won’t be the one to help you pass your time here.”
Grant shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I asked you to dinner. I’m not asking you to have a wild, torrid affair worthy of headlines.”
Not yet, anyway. Damn that clause. He had to get creative here, to protect not only his career but his peace of mind. Sex was all he could afford, all that he wanted.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
“Dinner only?” she asked.
“Unless you find me irresistible and can’t keep your hands off me,” he countered, offering her a smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “In that case, we’ll have to keep it a secret so I don’t get fired.”
“I’m pretty sure I can keep my hands off you, as long as you keep those lips off me.”
Grant winced. “Ouch, you really know how to drive a hard bargain. But I want you to relax, so I’ll keep my lips to myself.”
She raised a brow and twisted her lips as she contemplated. “Fine. Dinner. One evening and nothing more.”
“What night and time?”
She slid her phone from her pocket and searched. No doubt she had her spreadsheet on that damn thing, too.
“Tomorrow at seven.”
“Perfect. Don’t wear anything too fancy, and come by my cottage.”
“You’re not going to pick me up?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t want