Page 14 of Falling for a Grumpy Hero

LILA

T o: [email protected]

Subject: Out for the day

Dear Judith,

I trust this email finds you well. I think I’m coming down with something and I won’t be able to make it into the office today. I’ll be available on my phone and here if you urgently need to reach me.

Sorry about this.

Kind regards,

Lila

Before I could change my mind, I hit send and groaned as I leaned back against my couch. I inhaled deeply, looking out at the Atlantic sparkling under the sunshine outside. Did I just sign the death warrant on my new job?

Part of me expected a response to say that I didn’t need to call out because Ford had already fired me, but so far, so good. With every minute that passed without getting that news, I felt a little more optimistic that it would never come.

Optimism, however, didn’t equal naivety. Just so I’d be prepared if the worst happened, I logged into my bank account next, doing a quick round of mental math. I had just enough money to survive a single, aching month in this apartment before I ran out of funds to pay rent.

Another groan escaped me. That’s really not very long at all. God, I miss my savings.

Every penny I’d had saved had gone toward my relocation expenses, paying the Art Institute upfront, and putting down first and last month on this place.

I reached for my mug, desperately needing an infusion of caffeine to my veins to help me think, but as soon as I wrapped my fingers around the porcelain, I knew I was dang out of luck.

The mug was empty.

A long time ago though, I’d made the decision to live every day to the fullest instead of constantly worrying when the tables were going to turn and my luck was going to run out. So instead of wallowing about the empty mug, I saw an opportunity to pour myself some fresh coffee and smiled.

This second cup is going to be even better than the first. At least now I know that I’ve sent the email and checked my account . The two biggest things on my to-do list for the day had been checked off already and it was barely eight a.m. This is cause for celebration.

Shifting my laptop off my legs to the coffee table, I stood up and stretched my arms out above my head, relishing the feeling of having a body that moved freely and without any sluggishness, aches, or pains.

I knew better than anyone what a huge blessing that was, and I didn’t ever want to take it for granted.

As I came out of my stretch, I sent a quick thanks out into the universe and went to my kitchen, picking up the still hot pot of coffee I’d made just a little while ago. See, so many things to be thankful for.

Just as I poured my second cup, the buzzer in my apartment went off, alerting me that there was someone at the door. I frowned. No one except Addy and Taylor had ever been here, and I hadn’t ordered anything for delivery.

That’s odd. Someone must be lost.

I wrapped my fingers around the mug and strode to the intercom, pressing the button and holding it down. “Hello?”

“Hey, Lila. It’s Ford. Can I come up?”

Surprise washed over me in waves so strong, I nearly dropped my coffee. “Uh, okay.”

I pressed the button to let him in, glancing down at myself and grimacing when I realized I was still in my pajamas.

They weren’t indecent, a cute, summer flannel set with a picture of a donkey on the shirt and the words, “Lazy Ass” printed underneath it.

The shorts had donkeys printed on them too, but at least they covered my whole, actual ass, so I was good.

Sort of. Not at all, but okay. It’s too late now.

Walking over to the door, I breathed in deep and swung it open, wondering if perhaps this morning had all been a dream. There was no way my moody boss had actually come here, but then the elevator dinged at the far end of the hall, and when the doors slid open, Ford Callahan stepped out.

The man really was gorgeous. I might be a Lazy Ass, but he’s a Handsome Ass. Maybe I’ll have a matching pajama set made for him.

All that dark hair was stylishly tousled, short enough not to fall across his forehead, but long enough not to be a buzz-cut either. I still hadn’t figured out if he actually styled it that way or if he simply brushed his fingers through it while it was still wet and let fate take the wheel.

Whatever it was, the look worked on him. As did the charcoal gray tailored suit and the white button-down—without a single wrinkle today—he had on underneath it. Ford never seemed to wear ties and his footwear of choice, strangely, was a pair of black sneakers rather than polished dress shoes.

Just another part of the mystery that is Ford Callahan.

“What are you doing here?” I watched him approach, wary of his motivation for coming to my home. “Did you come to fire me in person?”

“Nope.” He seemed incredibly uncomfortable, gaze quickly raking over me when he seemed to realize I was still in my pajamas. He brushed past me anyway, into my little apartment without offering a single word of explanation just yet.

I sighed, a little over his eccentricities at this point. After Taylor had told me that Ford had been a marine and that he’d been in a bad helicopter accident, I’d often wondered if being a survivor had made him like this. If he’d shut down, gone dark, after his experiences over there.

I knew that it could happen. I had enough personal experience with nearly dying and being around people who had either also nearly died—or hadn’t been lucky enough in the end to survive—to know that it was possible for that darkness to take over.

Honestly, I just didn’t know Ford well enough yet to even guess at why he was the way he was.

It was also entirely possible that I was reading too much into it and he was simply a natural born prick.

I knew that could happen too, a genetic snafu that doomed its human to being a jerk without a cause.

I shut my door and turned to see that he’d stopped about halfway across my studio, his head dropped back as his gaze moved back and forth.

Clearly, he was inspecting every inch of this place.

I just wasn’t sure if it was professional interest or judgment.

It was a fair toss-up between the two at this point.

As if he felt me staring at his back, he brought his gaze to mine and took charge, like he had an annoying tendency to do.

I’d come to realize that Ford did Ford. Always.

Whatever he wanted. Whenever he wanted, that was him.

There was no in-between. “Since you’re screening my calls and apparently not coming to the office anymore, I thought I should come apologize in person. ”

My eyes widened and I genuinely wished he didn’t look so good.

If only there had been a neon sign across his stupidly flat abs that read “ Damaged Goods ,” maybe I wouldn’t have been tempted to look at him like I was attracted to him.

There was no sign, though—and he was just ridiculously attractive for a damaged and/or genetically predispositioned prick.

He sighed, and I could tell this was taking all of his strength and patience. I felt a little smug about it, so I arched an eyebrow to prompt him to continue.

Tall, Dark, and Moody seemed anguished for a moment before he nodded.

“Right, well, I am sorry for speaking to you the way I did. I shouldn’t have done that.

I do have to agree with you that my office was messy and having had some time to examine the way that you organized it, things definitely worked out in my favor. ”

My lips were begging to break into a smile and tell him that I appreciated all of that and that I would be at the office in an hour, but I didn’t break. This man had thought that he could walk all over me and now he was the one who’d come here to apologize.

It took a big man to do that. A confident one with the gonads to own up to a mistake and an ego big enough to withstand a little knock.

But none of that meant I was obliged to make it easy on him. I was about to get sassy and demand a little more when he suddenly pulled my school binder out of the leather bag hanging over his shoulder.

“You forgot this yesterday,” he explained as he held it out to me. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got you something.”

As I took the binder from him, his hand dove back into the bag and came out with a tablet. I frowned, but unfortunately, I also noticed how good looking even his damn hands were as he made to pass the box over to me.

Long but clearly strong fingers. A smattering of short, dark hair on his knuckles.

Bulging veins over a broad hand that disappeared past his wrist and into the sleeve of his shirt.

“This is generally what architects and engineers use when they’re designing.

You should get used to using the tech, even if you’re going to pursue interior design instead. ”

Whoa. Instead? What the holy heck does that mean?

Instead of what, exactly? I was too shocked by the gesture to ask, though.

I knew exactly what kind of tablet this was, and now that I’d forced myself to focus on it instead of the hand holding it, I also knew that it cost several grand.

I’d been looking at one just a couple weeks ago.

I’d desperately wanted it, but I hadn’t been able to afford it yet. Numbly reaching for the slim box, I blinked a few times before I looked back up into his eyes. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“I know, but I insist. Besides, you have to take it. I’ve already registered it and had it set up for you. I can’t return it and I wouldn’t want to.”

Taken aback by this extreme act of generosity and kindness, I smiled and opened my arms, silently asking if I could give him a hug. “I’d like to thank you now.”

He waved me off, literally taking a step back as he shook his head, those handsome, sharp features back to a closed-off frown. “Don’t mention it, but stay out of my office from now on. Please.”

Tacking on that last word, he sighed. I accepted what he’d said with a smug smile.

Neither of us spoke again for a long moment, just staring right into each other’s eyes.

I saw every crystal and dash in those stormy blue eyes, even finally realizing that those, combined with the slightly darker ring around his irises, were what gave them that stormy appearance.

A strange electricity seemed to spark to life between us, a magnetic force that made me want to drift closer to him. Once I realized that it was going to become awkward real fast if we both just kept staring, I broke the silence. “Are you really not firing me?”

“I probably could.” He shrugged. “I’m not going to, though.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips when he said it, like this was his idea of teasing me. It was an endearing thing to notice, and as if he’d had the same realization at the same time, the tension between us suddenly felt thick.

Out of the office, here in my personal space, I was seeing him as a man more than a boss right now, and that was probably why I’d never felt this tension with him quite so acutely before.

My gaze locked onto him again and I noticed for the first time the tiny, shiny scars he had on the backs of his hands and his chest.

He’d left the top couple of buttons of his shirt undone, and the light must’ve been hitting him just right because there were dozens upon dozens of marks just on his hands and his chest. It made me itch to ask what had happened and if he had more, carefully hidden by his clothing, but I felt like I already knew how that would go.

“Get dressed,” he said suddenly. “We have somewhere to be.”

My eyebrows shot up. “I’ve already called out of work today.”

“That’s too bad. I’ll be waiting downstairs in my truck.” He strode toward my door and opened it, but he stopped and turned to look at me again. “Wear something you don’t mind getting dirty and, uh, bring that tablet with you. It’s all charged up and you’re going to need it.”