Three Reasons To Wed

Marissa glanced toward Tina to ensure the child hadn’t picked up on the sudden strain between them and then she glared at Grady. “I’m here because Breanna and Milly want me here. I’m not under any illusions, Grady. I’m sure you don’t want me one little bit.”

His expression changed instantly and his eyes widened. How long had it been since she’d noticed how brilliantly blue his eyes were? Years, maybe. Over a decade. But now they devoured her with their intensity. Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard. There was something hypnotic about his stare, as if she was being drawn deeper and deeper into it, into him. Marissa tried to look away but couldn’t. He knew it, too. She was certain of it.

“Wanting you,” he said, saying the words so slowly it was excruciating, “isn’t the issue.”

Marissa quickly realized how her words must have sounded to him. Intimate. Provocative. You don’t want me...

“I meant that you obviously don’t want me here.”

“I don’t?” he shot back. “Is that right?”

Breanna and Milly emerged through the wide doors at that moment and anything else he intended saying was clearly put on hold for the moment. Marissa plastered on a smile and chatted and played while Grady grilled steaks. Once he was done, they all sat down and Marissa watched as he put together a small plate of food for Tina and set her in a booster seat and got Breanna and Milly organized with their own plates. He was an exceptional dad. Caring and loving and exactly what she’d envisioned a father should be. She had nothing to test it against, no memory of a father or grandfather to make comparisons. But she could only think that if she ever had a child of her own one day, she’d like to share that child with a man who put his children above all others...a man who would protect his family with his last breath. A man like...Grady.

Whoa!

Marissa swallowed hard and pushed the notion from her mind. She had to. She had to forget that thought and never let it enter her head again. Because it was crazy thinking. Maybe she would get married again one day and hopefully have a child of her own...but it wouldn’t be the man now seated opposite her. He was as off-limits as anyone would ever be. No matter how good a dad he was, or how sparkling his eyes were.

“Everything all right, Marissa?” he asked, watching her. “Steak okay?”

She nodded and dished some salad onto her plate. “Looks great. Just how I like it.”

His mouth creased fractionally. “Well, I aim to please.”

He didn’t. They both knew that. There was nothing about their relationship that suggested either of them genuinely compromised when it came to one another. He would have been happier cooking her the rarest steak of the century and then telling her to deal with it. But he didn’t. Instead, he pretended interest in his food and chatted to his daughters. But Marissa wasn’t fooled. There was an undercurrent of tension whispering on the air between them, and she knew he felt it as much as she did.

Once they’d finished eating, the girls lingered over their plates and played with a couple of the dolls that decorated the table. At seven, Grady excused himself to put Tina to bed, and by the time he returned Marissa had cleared the table and was stacking the dishwasher. Breanna and Milly helped and she marveled at how easy the whole scene was—as though she’d done it a thousand times before. In that moment she felt a profound sense of loss for her best friend and said a silent prayer to Liz for allowing her to spend time with her precious daughters. Of course, it was Grady’s doing really, but the gratitude she experienced deep through to her bones made her uncomfortable. She still couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it to him.

When Grady came back into the kitchen, he told the girls to kiss Marissa good-night and then to hightail it to their bedroom with the promise of a story before they went to sleep.

“You’ve cleaned up?” he remarked once the girls skipped from the room.

Marissa shrugged. “Seemed like the least I could do, since you cooked.”

She noticed the pink apron was gone but there was glitter on his shirt and jeans. As she looked him over, a strange sensation hit the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t define the feeling. It wasn’t simply a reaction to his good looks. After all, she’d known good-looking men before. He ex-husband had been as handsome as anything. But Grady was different. He was confident but not cocky. He was also immensely likable even though it always seemed as though they were at odds with one another. Back in high school they’d been friendly, but not friends. She’d always been a little on edge around him, always conscious of the awareness that thrummed through her whenever he was near. Once he’d started dating Liz, though, she pushed those feelings aside, never willing to admit that her heart had broken just a little. But she’d loved Liz and would never had said or done anything that might have hurt her best friend. And she’d gotten over her harmless crush.

Or so she thought...

Because in that moment, he looked so good in low-riding jeans and a navy polo shirt, Marissa was forced to admit that she did find him attractive. Very much so.

“Coffee?” she asked, aware that it sounded more like a squeak than a question.

“Sure,” he said and came around the kitchen counter. “But I’ll make it. Do you want to read the girls a story before they go to sleep?”

Her eyes widened. “Really? I’d love to.”

He nodded. “Go ahead.”

She disappeared quickly—anything to get away from him in that moment. The kitchen had suddenly grown smaller, the air thicker. Panic set alight across her skin and she lingered in the bedroom with the girls, determined to get her foolish thoughts from her mind. She read them a story about castles and princesses and tucked them in tightly when she was done.

When she returned to the kitchen, he was sitting at the big round table, coffee mug between his hands, and he looked up when she entered. “Are they asleep?”

“Dozing,” she replied. “I said you’d be in a little later to say good-night.” Marissa took a breath and straightened her back. “Well, I guess I should probably get going. It’s a school night and—”

“Not for me,” he said and raised a brow and motioned to the other mug on the table. “Or you.”

She nodded slowly and sat down. The room was quiet, except for a clock ticking methodically on the wall and the infrequent sound of insects outside. It was a simple moment that suddenly seemed as complicated as anything ever had in her life. And she didn’t know why. She wasn’t sure what the intense tension between them was all about. In the past she’d been able to ignore it. But not now.

“Grady, I—”

“Why’d you get divorced?”

It wasn’t a question she’d been expecting. Grady had never asked her personal questions, not in all the years they’d known one another. Liz had been her confidante. Her friend. In some ways very much her soul mate. It was a friendship she deeply missed.

“He was...unfaithful.”

There. It was out. For the first time. Without Liz to confide in, Marissa had felt very much alone since she’d discovered Simon had been with another woman. With several, in fact, pretty much from the onset of their marriage. Saying the words felt good.

Grady raised his mug and stared at her over the rim. “Unworthy bastard.”

Emotion clogged her throat. “Yes...that’s a good way of putting it.”

“You’re well rid of him, then?”

She nodded. “I guess I am.”

His gaze narrowed. “Do you still love him?”

“No.”

He looked surprised by her quick response. “Do you miss being married?”

It was another question she hadn’t expected. “Sometimes,” she admitted and took a sip from the mug in her hands. “I miss having someone to talk to. I miss...intimacy.”

“Sex?”

Marissa let out a brittle laugh to hide the discomfort climbing across her skin. “Now, that’s a typically male response to the idea of intimacy.”

“We’re not very complex creatures,” he said and smiled. “But I do know the difference between emotional and physical intimacy.”

“Glad to hear it.”

She meant to sound flippant, humorous. But once her words were out they sounded altogether different. Almost like a flirtation...or an invitation. His eyes darkened and he placed the mug on the table. Marissa held his gaze, even though her heart was pounding and all she wanted to do was run for her life.

“You know,” he said quietly, his deep voice the only sound she heard, “you really are incredibly beautiful.”

Her breath sharpened. “Don’t.”

His brows rose. “Don’t what?”