the bones at the top of her foot and controlled her instinctive wince, but there was no sharp pain, only a swift relief as she realized she could wiggle her foot from side to side.
“Let’s try this again,” he said.
Grady hooked his hands under her arms in a tantalizing imitation of an embrace that had Ella’s heart hammering. At the brush of his cheek against hers, the rough scratch of his golden-brown stubble, Ella had to bite back another sound—but this time it was a moan of need.
Feeling half crazy and dizzy with the onslaught of too many conflicting feelings, Ella let her hands steal up to clutch at his flannel-covered shoulders.
“Do it,” she said, bracing herself for another jab from a broken board, but between one heartbeat and the next, Grady hauled her up and out of the hole … and straight into his arms.
CHAPTER 7
Okay, Ella, you can do this. Stand on your own two feet.
But the instant she gathered the fraying threads of her self-control and pulled away from Grady’s steadying arms, her ankle protested with a ferocious twinge that sent her wobbling.
She nearly fell over before Grady caught her with his large hands wrapped around her upper arms.
Closing her eyes in an embarrassed wince, Ella said, “Thank you. I seem to have twisted my ankle a little. I’m sure it’ll be all right in a second.”
“Or it could be broken,” he pointed out, staring down her body as if he could perform an X-ray with his naked eyes. “What’s with the stoic act, anyway? It’s okay to admit you might be hurt, you know.”
No it’s not.
Swallowing back the gut reaction, Ella called up a smile. “Of course. I just don’t see what good it does for me to whine about it.”
His gaze snapped to hers as if she’d said something bizarre. Mouth twisting into something closer to a grimace than a smile, he said, “I get that.”
Ella stared at him, every inch of her aware of the taut, sculpted muscle beneath his bulky plaid shirt. And all Ella could do was wonder what he’d been through in his life to put that look on his face.
Probably, it wasn’t exactly what she’d been through. Chances were slim that he’d spent his childhood with a mother sliding into raging alcoholism and a father who detached himself from his family to save his own sanity. Grady had probably never felt like he had to be grown-up by the age of seven, because he had a little sister who didn’t understand what was going on, but still knew something was very wrong at home. He’d probably never dreaded the possibility of teachers or guidance counselors finding out about it, never pushed himself so hard to appear normal, without really knowing what normal even felt like.
But all the same, as she stood there in the circle of his arms and stared up into his eyes, she felt a connection unfurling between them like the tender green vines creeping up the side of the house. A perfect empathy unlike anything she’d ever experienced in years of talking candidly to professional therapists, even Adrienne.
Without warning, something inside her opened up, a tightly closed bud stretching toward the first sunlight of spring.
His gaze dropped to her lips, and Ella’s heartbeat quickened. The moment went taut, suspended and fragile between them, as if they were holding something delicate and infinitely breakable in the cradle of their bodies. Slowly, almost in a daze, Ella tilted her head back. Just a little.
Just enough.
As if aware that a sudden movement would shatter the moment, Grady dipped his head to take what she was offering.
His lips moved over hers softly, a questing touch that barely grazed her mouth, but somehow sent shivers of sensation cascading down her spine. Ella’s lungs ached and burned until she remembered to breathe, sighing against his lips, and the kiss changed.
Grady’s careful grip tightened, pulling her closer, so close she was all but burrowing into the solid warmth of his chest. He made a hungry noise that
“Let’s try this again,” he said.
Grady hooked his hands under her arms in a tantalizing imitation of an embrace that had Ella’s heart hammering. At the brush of his cheek against hers, the rough scratch of his golden-brown stubble, Ella had to bite back another sound—but this time it was a moan of need.
Feeling half crazy and dizzy with the onslaught of too many conflicting feelings, Ella let her hands steal up to clutch at his flannel-covered shoulders.
“Do it,” she said, bracing herself for another jab from a broken board, but between one heartbeat and the next, Grady hauled her up and out of the hole … and straight into his arms.
CHAPTER 7
Okay, Ella, you can do this. Stand on your own two feet.
But the instant she gathered the fraying threads of her self-control and pulled away from Grady’s steadying arms, her ankle protested with a ferocious twinge that sent her wobbling.
She nearly fell over before Grady caught her with his large hands wrapped around her upper arms.
Closing her eyes in an embarrassed wince, Ella said, “Thank you. I seem to have twisted my ankle a little. I’m sure it’ll be all right in a second.”
“Or it could be broken,” he pointed out, staring down her body as if he could perform an X-ray with his naked eyes. “What’s with the stoic act, anyway? It’s okay to admit you might be hurt, you know.”
No it’s not.
Swallowing back the gut reaction, Ella called up a smile. “Of course. I just don’t see what good it does for me to whine about it.”
His gaze snapped to hers as if she’d said something bizarre. Mouth twisting into something closer to a grimace than a smile, he said, “I get that.”
Ella stared at him, every inch of her aware of the taut, sculpted muscle beneath his bulky plaid shirt. And all Ella could do was wonder what he’d been through in his life to put that look on his face.
Probably, it wasn’t exactly what she’d been through. Chances were slim that he’d spent his childhood with a mother sliding into raging alcoholism and a father who detached himself from his family to save his own sanity. Grady had probably never felt like he had to be grown-up by the age of seven, because he had a little sister who didn’t understand what was going on, but still knew something was very wrong at home. He’d probably never dreaded the possibility of teachers or guidance counselors finding out about it, never pushed himself so hard to appear normal, without really knowing what normal even felt like.
But all the same, as she stood there in the circle of his arms and stared up into his eyes, she felt a connection unfurling between them like the tender green vines creeping up the side of the house. A perfect empathy unlike anything she’d ever experienced in years of talking candidly to professional therapists, even Adrienne.
Without warning, something inside her opened up, a tightly closed bud stretching toward the first sunlight of spring.
His gaze dropped to her lips, and Ella’s heartbeat quickened. The moment went taut, suspended and fragile between them, as if they were holding something delicate and infinitely breakable in the cradle of their bodies. Slowly, almost in a daze, Ella tilted her head back. Just a little.
Just enough.
As if aware that a sudden movement would shatter the moment, Grady dipped his head to take what she was offering.
His lips moved over hers softly, a questing touch that barely grazed her mouth, but somehow sent shivers of sensation cascading down her spine. Ella’s lungs ached and burned until she remembered to breathe, sighing against his lips, and the kiss changed.
Grady’s careful grip tightened, pulling her closer, so close she was all but burrowing into the solid warmth of his chest. He made a hungry noise that
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