Home > Grant's Blaze (Shark's Edge #6)(9)

Grant's Blaze (Shark's Edge #6)(9)
Author: Angel Payne

He chuckled again, and I decided to just stop and…enjoy it. God, it was so good to hear that sound again. His laugh was so much like him. Deep and meaningful and robust. I wanted to sob, thinking of how many times I dreaded never hearing it again.

But I didn’t. Instead, I decided to try sitting down. Not for long. Just for a moment, to absorb the enormity of what was happening. That he was really back. Truly home and safely away from the monsters who’d abducted him.

Well, the best-laid plans…

In my dumbstruck haze, I misjudged the distance between my backside and the sofa cushion. I skimmed past the edge, landing with a brutal thud on the floor. I also split the rear seam of my jeans, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to listen to his voice and know he was okay. Tears ran down my cheeks and dripped off my chin, leaving darker polka dots on the denim covering my thighs.

“Grant? Are you still there?” I worried aloud.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here.”

“Where’s here? Can I see you? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor? A lot of them do tele-med stuff now, you know?”

At last, I comprehended how my nervous energy had me rambling like an idiot. I forced myself to take a breath. On the exhale, I whispered, “I’m so sorry. It’s just that…my God, I’ve been so worried. So scared. I wondered if I’d ever hear your voice again.”

“I’ve missed you so much, Blaze. Every single thing about you. Don’t apologize, okay?” He was equally soft spoken, and I missed the self-assured dominant man I loved so much.

Whoa. Wait a second.

That thought wasn’t the sole cause of my concern. It was a pile-up of other factors. The staccato edges of his breaths. The drag of his long pause, filled only by rough scuffs that filled me with nervous energy. A helplessness that I abhorred.

So I accommodated by going for my comfort zone. Grabbing the damn bull by the horns.

“I’m coming to you. Tell me where you are so I can put it in my nav.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “About that…”

“What do you mean ‘about that’?” I was trying to keep my tone even, but I was barreling toward becoming the bull instead of just wrestling it. Already, I didn’t like where this was headed. Not one bit.

“I’m so exhausted, so I’m just going to sleep the rest of the day,” he stated. “It’s really what I need. And then we’ll see how tomorrow shapes up…”

“How it ‘shapes up’?” I flung back. “Wait. And what do you mean, tomorrow? Grant—”

“But I’ll call you later if I end up waking up again, okay?”

“No,” I blurted once it seemed like he was done with the hurried—and rehearsed—brush-off speech. “That’s not okay. Grant—”

It was all I got out before he cut me off. Maybe my tone was too plaintive for his preference or energy and comfort level.

“I’ll talk to you soon, baby. Bye.”

Like an ass, I sat with the phone to my ear listening to absolutely nothing for at least another minute. When I finally set the device on the table, the screen had gone dark. I was smart enough to add that unrecognized number to Grant’s contact card though. That way I wouldn’t foolishly let another call go unanswered like I almost had this one.

Time for more trusted behavioral defaults. In this case, my inclination to overanalyze conversations. In this case, I’d have to consider the few sparse sentences of the conversation I’d just had with the man I loved.

He missed me. I missed him. Nothing too controversial there. I was so thankful he was back. He was thankful to be back. Also pretty cut and dry. Either my deductive skills were razor-sharp today, or that conversation was a real snooze festival.

Option B seemed like the clear winner.

Everything was fine until I asked—in several ways, and at several opportunities—for his whereabouts. Head, meet wall. He’d been very deft about just changing the subject or reverting to dazzling me with sweet talk.

Dazzling me. In this case, a fancy word for diverting me.

Why was he being so evasive over where he was sleeping tonight? I knew he had a bunch of homes, and he’d never been embarrassed or awkward about the fact in the past. Hell, he’d even taken me to see the downtown property before he made the offer to buy the place. I remember feeling special, as silly as that seemed, that Grant asked my opinion about some of the kitchen upgrades he wanted included in the closing costs on that property. Something about the whole experience made the place feel more like ours when I started spending more time there after Sean passed away.

I forced myself to haul in a long breath. I nearly made it to Grant’s magic number of ten before letting the air back out. And whether I wanted to admit it or not, I was calmer. There was no use spinning myself into hysteria about this, until I became the woman I used to be. I promised myself I was going to be a better version of myself when we got off that damn boat, and this was my first test. If he said he was tired and just needed to get some extra rest, then I had to believe him. He’d never lied to me before; I had no other choice—even if the truth hurt a little more than I was willing to admit.

So, great. Just damn great. My feelings were a little tender, and now I had a bruised ego to boot. And I knew I was being ridiculous. Grant was the one who had just been held prisoner by some nasty motherfuckers out in the middle of the ocean. But I wanted to be the one he turned to when he got back. More than anything, I wanted to be his safe harbor, the person he felt secure with. It should be my arms that held him and shielded him when he felt threatened.

Because Grant would be all those things for me.

He already had been.

So why couldn’t I return the favor? Why wasn’t I all those things for him? Why couldn’t he count on me the same way I could count on him?

Again, the truth was right there. It stared me in the face when I looked in the mirror, shaking its recriminating finger as soon as I heard my mother’s nagging, doubting voice in the back of my mind. I knew the answer already; I just didn’t want to face it.

I wasn’t reliable in most people’s eyes. I wasn’t stable or even sane as far as most of my friends and family were concerned. Hell, two of them had already called the necessary agencies and had me carted off to the funny farm!

So yeah…as much as I wanted to be the arms Grant ran into when he was returned home to Los Angeles, I knew why I hadn’t been. But that didn’t mean it hurt less. Hell. Understanding the reasons why might have made it hurt even more.

Cutting deep enough to make me start bleeding with new fears.

If I wasn’t comforting the man, who was?

Another woman? One of the many he regularly entertained before he decided to tie himself down with the likes of me? Or perhaps someone new, ready to be the bosom he nestled into for welcome warmth…and more?

Somehow, I managed to suck in another breath. It stabbed into my sternum, making me push a trembling fist to the throbbing spot. “Don’t go there,” I ordered myself in a rasp. “Don’t go there. Don’t go—”

The cellphone’s ringtone snapped me out of my spin cycle, thank God. I snatched the thing up off the sofa and accepted the call without looking at the display. At that point, I would have talked to a telemarketer if it meant getting out of my own damn head for a few minutes.

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