Page 26 of Worth the Try (Atlanta Granite #1)

Elodie

M Y BODY IS deliciously sore as I shower a few days later, feeling the twinge in my back as I bend to shave my legs.

I haven’t been able to wipe the smile off my face since that first night.

We got almost no sleep, tangling up with each other time and again, dozing only to wake ravenous for the other’s skin.

It was nearly dawn when we finally parted, Ansel walking me to the kitchen door and closing it softly behind me as I padded around the pool to the guesthouse.

We’ve been together every night since. I have never felt like this.

Never thirsted for someone so thoroughly.

It wasn’t even close to this with my ex, this kind of all-consuming desire that won’t stop.

And it’s not just physical—though, my Lord, that man is heaven-sent—but it’s more.

Like I’d do just about anything to protect him, his heart, his family.

It doesn’t make sense, the way I’m so filled up with emotion.

How could a few days of him have me so twisted up?

Because it’s been more than a few days. Because I’ve been falling for him from the moment I saw him walk into that room at the Granite headquarters. Because he and his daughter are the very thing I never knew I was looking for.

Is this what it feels like to be cherished for who you truly are, and not what you can or can’t win? To be seen for me, not what my body can or can’t do?

I know there’s still a lot we both have to learn about each other, but even still. Whatever this is, I like it.

After my shower, I get dressed and I head over.

Ansel’s in the kitchen like always, his wire-rimmed glasses sliding down his nose as he concentrates on the French braid he’s weaving down Rosalie’s back.

I taught him the new braid and he’s been working on perfecting it every day since, much to Rosie’s delight.

Father and daughter look up simultaneously as I enter, both of them smiling broadly. Their happiness mirrors my own as my stomach clenches, emotions threatening to drown me. I blink back a sudden rush of tears. I am all up in my feels this morning.

“Who wants breakfast?” I ask, having finally bullied Ansel into taking my help in the mornings. As much as I love his desire to take care of, well, everyone, I’m also determined to make the man accept help.

“Me!” Rosalie chirps. “Can I have toasty eggs?”

“Yes, ma’am!” I answer, giving her a salute and turning to gather the supplies. When I look back at Ansel, I catch him eyeing my butt and I stick my tongue out at him. With a silent laugh, I ask, “Want a smoothie?”

He smiles softly. “I’ve already had it. Thank you.” He finishes with Rosalie’s braid, and she hops down, darting out of the kitchen to do who knows what.

Ansel takes the opportunity to slide up behind me, running his hands down my waist before gripping my hips and pressing against my bottom. There’s no mistaking his hardness. “You’re killing me in that outfit,” he growls, leaning to scrape his teeth against my neck.

I shiver, barely managing to set the eggs and shredded cheddar cheese on the counter before he’s turning me around and kissing me deeply.

I press against him, pliant and willing to take anything he wants to give me.

His hands slide up to my breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples through the body-skimming halter dress I’m in.

I’d put it on because it was comfortable, not thinking a thing about it.

But now, my core throbbing with want as Ansel leans into me, the countertop digging into my back as he slides a hand beneath the fabric, I’m applauding my fantastic choice.

He slides the silk of my panties to the side, and I bite my lower lip as he dips a finger into me.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

“Damn, woman,” he rasps. “You gonna let me make you come right here, Elodie?”

I grind against his hand, my breath hitching.

“Daddy!”

We fly apart, Ansel angling his body to cover me as I shove my dress into place, my cheeks flaming. “Hey, Rosie bug!”

She waves a half-finished drawing at him. “I found it! I’ll finish it for you today, okay?”

“Sounds amazing,” he says, reaching back to squeeze my leg before moving to the sink to wash his hands.

The transformation is so thorough that I can’t help but be impressed. He picks Rosie up as she flings herself at him, throwing a wink at me over her head.

I swoon.

Later, after Rosie takes a surprising but welcome nap, we decide to go to the library. She returns the stack of books we’d borrowed a couple of weeks ago, and grabs my hand to lead me through the stacks for a fresh batch. Her hand fits perfectly in mine, soft and warm, and I squeeze it.

She looks up at me, hazel eyes crinkling. “I love you, Elle Belle.”

The words slam into me, catching me so thoroughly off-guard that I nearly stumble. “I love you, too, Rosie Bug.” I mean it, too. The love I have for this little girl surges through me something fierce.

She grins. “Of course you do.”

I giggle. “Okay, missy. Let’s pick some books.”

We’re stopped at a red light on our way home when the back of my neck tingles with awareness.

I look at Rosie through the rearview mirror, but she’s buckled in her booster seat and flipping happily through one of the new books.

Then I notice the car behind us, realizing it’s been following us since we left the library’s parking lot, and—my brow furrows. Does he have a camera ?

Adrenaline floods my system, and I punch the gas when the light turns green. The car keeps up, even as I take a turn away from the house. It stays with us, turn after turn, and I know, deep in my bones, that the driver is following us.

I make the decision on instinct. Forcing my voice to remain calm, I say, “Let’s go see Daddy, sound good?”

“Yay!” she answers, her little face lighting up in the rearview mirror.

I weave through a few streets before getting to the interstate, the man in the car still following me.

But I’ve picked this entrance on purpose, knowing it forces cars to stop one after the other before entering the merge lane, and I floor it.

I weave into the congestion, driving my Honda as fast as I safely can, praying I’ll lose the other car in the heavy Atlanta traffic.

It works, but I don’t slow down. My hands shake as I pull into the Granite’s headquarters, and it takes all my strength to act like everything is fine as she grips onto my hand again, skipping into the entrance.

“Let’s go see Kari first, yeah? Daddy’s probably working very hard right now.”

She nods, and we take the elevator to the top floor.

Kari’s bright smile falters when she sees my face, but she recovers quickly. “What a surprise!” she exclaims, rising and walking around her desk to give Rosie a big hug. Rising, she pulls me into an embrace. “You okay?” she murmurs.

“We were followed, and I didn’t know what to do,” I mutter back.

She stiffens, then leans back to study me. “He’s pretty famous, Elodie,” she says, her voice low.

My gut clenches. “But we weren’t with him,” I point out. “It was me and his daughter. In my car.”

Her eyes widen, and she nods. “Okay. You’re right. I think the team might be finishing up, but let me check the news? See if something’s going on that would have warranted it?”

I shake my head. “This wasn’t sports paparazzi, Kari. I know it wasn’t.”

After studying me for a moment, she relents. “Okay. If it wasn’t a pap, then…”

“Then who was it? And why?” Dread courses through me.

Kari raises an eyebrow. When I still don’t speak, she seems to make a decision. “How about you two go raid the snack room while I see if I can find your dad, Rosalie?”

She nods happily at Kari, then looks up at me while hooking a thumb over her shoulder. “Come on, Elle Belle. I know my way around,” she says proudly.

Defeated, yet not really able to articulate why, I let Rosie lead me out while Kari heads down the stairs two at a time.

They must have been showering, because when Ansel walks in, his hair is wet and his heather-gray Granite shirt is clinging to him in wet splotches.

He eats up the distance, going straight to where Rosie sits, separating Skittles into little piles by color.

Lennox is right behind him, followed by Kari.

“Hi, Daddy!” Rosalie says, her feet swinging on the chair. “Want the orange ones?”

“Of course I do,” he answers, holding his palm out as he kneels beside her.

She drops the candy into his hand, counting each piece as she goes, while he looks over every inch of her, seeking out any potential harm.

It’s only when she’s finished counting ten candies into his waiting hand that he’s satisfied she’s safe.

“Thank you, Rosie,” he says, rising and planting a kiss on the top of her head while pocketing the Skittles.

Then he turns to me. And I don’t know what it is that he sees in my expression, but anguish passes over his own before he schools it away. Stepping toward me, he asks, “Are you okay?”

The question makes my throat tight with emotion. Emotion over the way his first concern was his daughter, and then for me. Not a demand to know what happened. Not a reprimand for coming here. Nothing but genuine concern.

And it shouldn’t, but his reaction nearly undoes me. Tears spring to my eyes.

Ansel comes closer, murmuring, “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He brings his hands to my face, thumbing away the tears as they spill. When I can’t stop crying, he pulls me into his arms and holds me there, gently rocking us while I take a moment to fall apart.

But I can’t wallow, especially when I can’t even explain what just happened.

I sniff and make myself step back, aware that Rosalie doesn’t need to see us and wonder what’s going on.

Wiping my face and taking a deep breath, I blow it out and meet Ansel’s eyes as Kari and Lennox hover in my periphery.

“We were followed,” I start.

“I know. ” Ansel’s voice is low and angry.

“Easy, man,” Lennox cuts in, putting a hand on Ansel’s arm.

The touch seems to relax him, and he exhales roughly. “Sorry.”

I dive in, giving them the story quickly. There isn’t much to tell, it turns out, but even though I have only the barest idea of what the man looked like, I tell them the make and model of the car.

Meanwhile, Ansel’s gone from mad to nearly apoplectic, coiled and ready to spring. “And you lost him on the interstate?” he asks for the third time.

I nod, giving him a tentative smile. “Guess that training my dad made me take when I was a teenager finally came in handy.”

Lennox raises a questioning brow.

“Defensive driving class taught by ex-police officers,” I explain. “Learned all kinds of things.”

“Your dad’s a cop?” Ansel asks.

“Retired,” I answer.

“Should we call him? See if he can help somehow?”

“No.” The answer is flying out of my mouth before he even finishes the question. While my father might be the tiniest bit useful here, he’d fold the instant my mother voiced any kind of opinion. “He can’t help.”

“Are you sure?” Ansel asks.

“She’s sure,” Kari answers for me, her voice steely.

I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding, immensely grateful for my best friend. “I just don’t understand why anyone would want to follow us,” I muse.

“I do,” Ansel states flatly.

My eyes fly to his, but he’s grabbing his phone and stalking out of the room.

“Give the man a few minutes, yeah?” Lennox says softly. “It’s complicated.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Do you know something?”

He grips his neck and grimaces, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s…not my story to tell.”

Kari crosses her arms. “Seriously, Lennox? My best friend was terrified when she got here. Not to mention the safety of that little girl. And you’re going to hide behind a stupid statement like that?”

Pain flashes across Lennox’s face before he schools it away. “I said what I said.”

“Pathetic.” Kari practically spits the word.

I look between the two of them. There’s definitely something deeper between them going on here, but no way Kari will tell me right now.

Ansel reappears, beelining for me. “Ready? I’ll take her home.”

I gape at him. “Are you—What’s going on?”

“Later,” he says. Then he turns to his daughter and crouches down, scooping her into his arms and letting her pop a candy into his mouth as they go.

I force a smile at Rosalie as she waves at me behind Ansel’s back. “See you at the house!”

Tamping down the irritation that threatens to overtake me, I turn. “Lennox,” I start.

He holds his hands up, remorse all over his ruddy face. “I’m sorry, Elodie. But I can’t. Whatever Ansel has or hasn’t told you, he’s done it for a reason. I’m not going to override that.”

“Fucking coward,” Kari bites out. “Like always.”

Lennox clenches his jaw, but keeps his eyes on me, not backing down.

Sighing, I grab my keys. “It’s okay, Lennox. I understand.” Even though I don’t. Not really.

To Kari, I say, “I’ll call you.”

Ansel and Rosalie are gone by the time I make my slow way to my CR-V. Who was that? Better yet, why?

I tuck myself into the driver’s seat and breathe, my hands flexing on the wheel after I start the engine.

Ansel’s focus is on his daughter. Not me.

He’s not mad at me. And even though I repeat the words over and over as I weave into traffic, it’s hard to get past the fact that there’s something he’s keeping from me.