Page 10 of Crash and Burn

Grant's eyes flew to mine with a sort of panicked look.

I whirled around, heart thumping madly.

"Whoops!" Grant spoke up easily, his tone at odds with the tense expression I'd seen on his face. "Sorry. I didn't mean to walk in on you. I was just looking for extra napkins."

"They're on the shelf," I told him, aiming for a tone that was just as casual as his. I knelt down to pick up the stick and went back to dabbing at the stain with more force than I had been previously.

"I don't see them," he said.

I turned my head to face him, keeping my back to him.

"Right there," I pointed.

"Cool, thanks," he said breezily. "Are you planning on putting on some kind of Coyote Ugly thing for us?"

"What?" I asked.

"You know, Coyote Ugly," he repeated with a teasing tilt of his lips. "Like the movie. Hot bartender girls getting up on the counter, dressed all sexy, doing awesome bartender moves, impressing the crowd."

"No," I snorted. "I am not planning on getting up on the bar counter dressed only in my bra, thank you very much."

"That's a shame," he said. "I bet you'd get a lot of tips."

"I'm not using my feminine wiles to milk more money out of customers," I told him.

"You've got a pure, moral heart, Liz," Grant said, those deep blue eyes crinkling at the corners again. "Is that one of your shirts?"

I knew he was asking if it was one of my own creations.

I nodded. "It's brand new, too. But I think I can fix it."

"We've got the next Coco Chanel over here," he said.

"Since when do you know the names of any fashion designers?" I asked.

Grant's eyes were fastidiously trained on mine, although there was a line of tension between his brows. His eyebrow twitched.

"Are we still on for our late-night brunch?" he asked.

"After the bar's closed?" I asked. "Always."

I hadn't realized it, but I'd slowly drifted back around as we'd been talking, until we were facing each other again. Grant's gaze flicked back to my chest for a flash of a second, then snapped up.

"Better get back," he said hurriedly. "Busy night." He strode out of the room without another look.

I let out a strangled breath, nearly doubling over as I clutched my shirt in both hands.

Grant had walked in on me.

He'd walked in on me half-naked.

For a moment, I'd wondered if maybe he'd do something. He'd taken a step toward me, hadn't he?

Then he'd changed modes completely and we'd gone back to our usual, easy banter.

What did it mean?

I groaned and brought a fist to my forehead, thumping myself once.