“The plumber says it'll be at least two weeks before I can go back though,” I explain again, hearing the weariness in my own voice. “I don't suppose there's a hotel nearby that doesn't require ID?”
Grant and Lily exchange a look I can't quite interpret.
“Actually,” Lily says, her lips curving into a smile that can only be described as mischievous, “Grant has plenty of room. “You could stay here!”
Grant's eyes widen. “Lily—”
“What? You do. That guest suite is just sitting empty.” She turns back to me. “It makes perfect sense. Our family caused your problem, so we should provide the solution.”
“No, I couldn't possibly—” I start.
“Of course you can,” Lily insists. “It's the least we can do after Christian flooded your place. And it'll save you the trouble of finding somewhere else at such short notice”
I straighten my shoulders, lift my chin, and pretend I have a scrap of dignity left. My entire body recoils. “I—what? No, that’s not…”
“I thought you said you didn’t have anywhere else to go and no ID.” Lily says with just a hint of smugness in her voice.
Wow, that stung. And the worst part is, she’s right. Idon’thave anywhere else to go. My bank cards are lost, I have no passport, no form of ID, and I don’t dare phone Brè to book another hotel. But moving in with Grant and his stunning girlfriend? That feels like pure torture.
I turn back to Grant, hoping—praying—that he has the good sense to shut this down, but instead, the bastard’s just watching me, his expression unreadable.
“So, unless you have another option...?” Lily continues undeterred.
I open my mouth. Close it. Grind my teeth.
Shit.
SheknowsI don’t.
She glances at Grant with a look that sayssay something.
Grant clears his throat. “She's right. You should stay here until your place is fixed up.”
His tone is polite, but there's an undercurrent I can't quite identify. Is he only offering, because hisgirlfriend(ugh the bile that rises at that word) pushed him into it? The thought makes me want to refuse on principle.
I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”
“You won’t,” She states matter of fact. “there’s a rodeo and a festival taking over the town.” She says with a smug shrug, gesturing to the endless expanse of dirt road and sunbaked landscape. “Unless you’re planning to sleep on a bale of hay. Because that’s all that’s left.”
“I’ll make somewhere else.”
Grant snorts. “What? You gonna build a hut out of wet floorboards and sheer willpower?
“Maybe.” I narrow my eyes and glare at him.
“Riiight,” he drawls, the intensity in his gaze makes my chest tight. There’s something predatory in his patience, like he’s cataloging every inch of my unraveling with a mental notebook and a damn highlighter.
Ignoring us both, Lily claps her hands together, loud and decisive like she’s officially signing a contract neither of us agreed to.
“Perfect! Then it’s settled.”
Grant shoots Lily a sideways look and there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth that gives him away. He’s enjoying this. My reaction. My discomfort. My slow unravelling.
His eyes find mine again, and sweet hell, it’s like being hit with a heatwave. The look he gives me? Lingering. Loaded. And just long enough to short-circuit my brain.
“Welcome home, Mia,” he says, all low gravel and sinful. “Mi casa es su casa. We’ll help you bring your things over—if they haven’t floated off to Mexico by now.” He chuckles.
The absolute nerve of this man. He says it like he’s offering me a spa retreat, instead of a swamp replacement guest room in the House of Cowboy Chaos.
