Chapter One
Tristy knocked softly on Grant’s door. A part of her hoped
he was still awake because of how much she needed his comfort right now, the
strong and unshakable presence of the only guy in her life she’d ever really
been able to trust.
But another part cringed at the thought of having to reveal
to this same great guy what a mess she had made of her love life—yet again.
It wasn’t as though he would ever say I told you so ,
he wasn’t that kind of man. But it would so serve her right if he did.
Damn it, why didn’t she ever listen?
Grant opened the door. He looked yummy as always in worn
jeans and a T-shirt that showed off his biceps and impressive pectorals. He was
barefoot and his hair was just a little bit tousled. Together with the five
o’clock shadow he was sporting, the entire look spelled pure sexual fantasy.
Any girl’s, hers included.
“It’s crazy late, I know,” she blurted before he could
invite her in. “And I am the most horrible friend in the world, the way I make
you stay up all hours to console me. Just tell me to get lost. In fact, I will
tell myself.”
Grant arched a brow, as always impervious to her storms of
emotion. “So I gather the date with Ryan didn’t go so hot? Or was it Brian?”
Tristy’s lips quivered. She’d put on such a front to make it
this far—from the restaurant to the cab all the way back here. And now just a
few words from Grant and all of her resolve, the anger, the shock was giving
way like a dam bursting.
Next thing she knew, she was in Grant’s arms, blubbering and
feeling even more like a fool.
Grant managed it perfectly, wrapping her shoulders with one
arm as he closed the door with the other, giving them much-needed privacy.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Brian’s a lying, evil scumbag.” She unleashed her venom.
“He’s despicable and he…he’s…” She couldn’t even get the rest of the words out.
The man had turned out to be married, that was the main
point.
Big shock, right?
As if it took a rocket scientist to figure it out, the way
he was always working late, only able to see her certain days of the week,
always having to excuse himself to take calls, never inviting her to his place.
“Brian is a jackass who doesn’t deserve you.” Grant finished
her sentence for her, saying it just the right way to make her feel understood,
sympathized with but not pitied or judged.
“I’m such…an idiot.” She laid her head on his chest,
centering herself with the sound of his heartbeat.
He said nothing now as he stroked the back of her hair, the
tangled mess that had once been a beautiful perm.
Oh god, this guy was perfect—handsome, honorable, and a cop
to boot. Talk about total relationship material.
Except for one little issue.
A subtle but totally crucial incompatibility between the two
of them.
They’d talked it out a long time ago, when she’d first moved
in down the hall from him and they’d started hanging out.
It was for the best, really, because now they were best
friends and where would she be without him?
Good old Grant, her buddy. Yeah, right, tell my body
that.
Her breasts pressed against him—needing, wanting. Her
nipples were sending their own little messages, burning hot points of desire,
totally at odds with the coolness of her thoughts. Not to mention the steady
thrumming of her pussy inside her pretty little silk panties, the ones that
were supposed to have been for Brian.
This was going to be the night she let him take her to bed.
Grant cleared his throat, letting her go.
She caught an expression in his deep-blue eyes, something
she hadn’t seen before. Had she just overlooked it in the past or was something
new happening?
“I’ll make cocoa,” he said, about-facing to the kitchen to
prepare their favorite beverage. “It should be more than enough to get us
through the night.”
“You know I’m abusing you, right?” She sniffed. “Turning you
into one of my girlfriends
Tristy knocked softly on Grant’s door. A part of her hoped
he was still awake because of how much she needed his comfort right now, the
strong and unshakable presence of the only guy in her life she’d ever really
been able to trust.
But another part cringed at the thought of having to reveal
to this same great guy what a mess she had made of her love life—yet again.
It wasn’t as though he would ever say I told you so ,
he wasn’t that kind of man. But it would so serve her right if he did.
Damn it, why didn’t she ever listen?
Grant opened the door. He looked yummy as always in worn
jeans and a T-shirt that showed off his biceps and impressive pectorals. He was
barefoot and his hair was just a little bit tousled. Together with the five
o’clock shadow he was sporting, the entire look spelled pure sexual fantasy.
Any girl’s, hers included.
“It’s crazy late, I know,” she blurted before he could
invite her in. “And I am the most horrible friend in the world, the way I make
you stay up all hours to console me. Just tell me to get lost. In fact, I will
tell myself.”
Grant arched a brow, as always impervious to her storms of
emotion. “So I gather the date with Ryan didn’t go so hot? Or was it Brian?”
Tristy’s lips quivered. She’d put on such a front to make it
this far—from the restaurant to the cab all the way back here. And now just a
few words from Grant and all of her resolve, the anger, the shock was giving
way like a dam bursting.
Next thing she knew, she was in Grant’s arms, blubbering and
feeling even more like a fool.
Grant managed it perfectly, wrapping her shoulders with one
arm as he closed the door with the other, giving them much-needed privacy.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Brian’s a lying, evil scumbag.” She unleashed her venom.
“He’s despicable and he…he’s…” She couldn’t even get the rest of the words out.
The man had turned out to be married, that was the main
point.
Big shock, right?
As if it took a rocket scientist to figure it out, the way
he was always working late, only able to see her certain days of the week,
always having to excuse himself to take calls, never inviting her to his place.
“Brian is a jackass who doesn’t deserve you.” Grant finished
her sentence for her, saying it just the right way to make her feel understood,
sympathized with but not pitied or judged.
“I’m such…an idiot.” She laid her head on his chest,
centering herself with the sound of his heartbeat.
He said nothing now as he stroked the back of her hair, the
tangled mess that had once been a beautiful perm.
Oh god, this guy was perfect—handsome, honorable, and a cop
to boot. Talk about total relationship material.
Except for one little issue.
A subtle but totally crucial incompatibility between the two
of them.
They’d talked it out a long time ago, when she’d first moved
in down the hall from him and they’d started hanging out.
It was for the best, really, because now they were best
friends and where would she be without him?
Good old Grant, her buddy. Yeah, right, tell my body
that.
Her breasts pressed against him—needing, wanting. Her
nipples were sending their own little messages, burning hot points of desire,
totally at odds with the coolness of her thoughts. Not to mention the steady
thrumming of her pussy inside her pretty little silk panties, the ones that
were supposed to have been for Brian.
This was going to be the night she let him take her to bed.
Grant cleared his throat, letting her go.
She caught an expression in his deep-blue eyes, something
she hadn’t seen before. Had she just overlooked it in the past or was something
new happening?
“I’ll make cocoa,” he said, about-facing to the kitchen to
prepare their favorite beverage. “It should be more than enough to get us
through the night.”
“You know I’m abusing you, right?” She sniffed. “Turning you
into one of my girlfriends
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