NONE OF THIS was going the way Justin wanted. Not even close. Hearing the hitch in her voice, listening to the accusations in her words, witnessing the hurt in her eyes—it had thrown him. He hoped the hurt he’d caused was superficial. It was what lay underneath that wouldn’t let him go, though. Below that painful veneer was a well of emotional damage she hadn’t been able to hide. He didn’t know who or what had caused it, though he intended to do his best to find out. The one thing he was sure of? She hadn’t walked out on him yesterday. He’d driven her out that door. And the responsibility of his actions left him with the sensation he was sinking faster than a man wearing cement shoes in the Hudson.
There was only one thing to do. Starting now, he was going to seduce Grace. Not seduce her with suggestive dances or passionate kisses that would allow her to claim she’d only been caught up in the moment. No, he was going to offer small things, little words of kindness, gestures of comfort—whatever it took to get her to realize that he was a better man than he’d shown himself to be and that he hadn’t meant what he’d said. She was smart. It wouldn’t take long for her to put it together. He just had to figure out how to show her what Saturday night had meant to him. He figured lunch was a safe place to start. Granted, it had been a spontaneous invitation, but it provided an immediate opportunity to start showing her who he really was, the man he’d become over the years, not the selfish punk he’d been.
“What do you feel like for lunch, Grace?”
The click of her heels on the old building’s commercial tile was loud in the quiet hallway, and he heard the falter in her steps at the question.
She slowed. “I assumed you had somewhere in mind.”
“Nope. I figured I’d leave that up to you.”
“I’m not entirely familiar with the area, so I’ll let you make the recommendation.”
Well, this wasn’t working out the way he had hoped, either. “Fast food or sit-down meal?”
“Anything that costs five bucks or less. That’s what I’ve got on me at the moment.”
A spontaneous idea rolled over him, and, instead of thinking it through, he simply went with it. “C’mon. If we catch the 12 bus, we’ll have plenty of time.”
“You didn’t drive to work?”
“I borrowed the car from a friend Saturday night. I don’t own one yet. Hopefully that changes in the next week.” He stepped up his pace, not giving her the opportunity to question him further. His long legs ate up the floor and forced her to nearly jog to keep up with him.
She never faltered, never complained.
They managed to catch the bus, but only because they ran for it. All the seats were taken, so they grabbed the handholds above them and hung on as the bus lurched into traffic. Grace swayed, her breasts brushing against him. He closed his eyes for a second and managed not to groan. Barely.
“Sorry,” she murmured, moving away.
The urge to lay his hand on the slight curve of her hip and keep her close overwhelmed him. He wanted to hold her against his body, tuck her up tight and breathe in her scent, experience the brush of her ass against him as the bus rocked to and fro over uneven roads. Clearing his throat, he offered her a small smile. “No problem.”
She blushed and glanced away.
He gently hooked a finger under her chin and gently urged her face around to his. “Seriously. No problem.”