Wound Up(93)

                “Explain it to me...on the way home.” She felt a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth when he grinned widely.

                “Do you mind if we move your potpie lesson up to tonight? It’s the only night that works for my mom’s schedule. She’s very motherly, so cut her a little slack. She’s going to hover and do everything but find a way to measure your emotional barometer, but it’s because she cares.”

                “But she doesn’t know me.”

                “Not yet, but she wants me to be happy, and you make me happy.”

                Grace’s hand tightened on the strap of her briefcase. If she failed to make Justin happy, she’d not only lose him but the potential she had to be part of his family and an intimate in his circle of friends. Granted, she’d still have her friends, but they were all over the country.

                But if she did make him happy? She could have it all. For the first time in her life, the thought of staying in Seattle didn’t make her want to change her name and join the circus. She was content with the idea, so long as she was with Justin. He seemed to be the nucleus to her world at the moment. Or maybe she was the nucleus and he orbited her, bringing with him still others who would orbit them.

                There was still the issue of her dreams, the promise of the opportunity in Baltimore and reuniting with Meg. None of it could come to pass if she made this a long-term choice. And she’d really only started “dating” Justin a few days ago. Should she give it all up for an uncertain future? Could she let go of the anger at her mother, a lifetime of hurt and neglect, in order to choose Seattle as her home?

                Too many confusing and conflicting thoughts crowded her mind. She had to gain some perspective.

                He surprised her when he took her hand.

                She yanked it away. “You can’t hold my hand here. You could lose your job and I could fail this practicum.”

                Arching a brow, he glanced down at her. “How do you think it’s going to look when you show up at the company Christmas party with me? You can only be an intern so long.”

                “But I have to pass this class, Justin. I can’t afford for them to believe you’re unduly biased.”

                He stopped and, again, ran his hands through his hair. “You’re right. I’m just so damn proud of having you on my arm and I don’t want to let anything or anyone squash that feeling, but you’re right.” He let go of her hand. “For what it’s worth? I won’t pass you just because you’re phenomenal in bed. That’s simply a perk.”

                Swatting him arm, she laughed. “You’re a mess. Ever considered getting your head checked out?”

                “Been there, done that. That’s how I ended up becoming a psychologist, why it was so important to me to get my doctorate and come work here. The psychologist I saw at Second Chances convinced me I was smart enough, empathetic enough and decidedly bullheaded enough to make the ideal doctoral student.”

                “I wondered,” she admitted. “I went straight through to get my master’s so I would be sure to get a job that would enable me to pay my own way in life. I guess I also wanted to figure my mom out, why she treated me the way she does. Did. The way she did. I’m done with her now.”

                “Good.” He stroked a hand down the back of her head as they walked down the hall, dropping it the moment she gave him a hard look. “I don’t want you going to her, or her house, for anything. We’ll get you new clothes, though underwear are optional,” he whispered, waggling his brows.