Take a Chance

Harlow

I was a slut. Or trauma made me a slut. I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t been able to look at Grant since I’d basically raped him, then moved over to my seat and pulled my pants back on. He had kept his hand on my leg or his fingers laced in mine, but he didn’t force me to talk.

I figured either he didn’t realize I was a slut or he was feeling sorry for me today. My face heated at the memory of him coming on my hands and me tasting it. I knew about blowjobs. I knew women must like it to do it. So I was curious. But now that I had made him come in my hands and tasted him, I was embarrassed. I didn’t do things like that. It wasn’t me. I had just needed to be reminded I was alive. Grant made me feel alive and as if nothing could touch me.

I had today, though, and it had been good. He’d made me feel good. My left breast still stung from the bite he took out of me. I tried not to smile thinking about his mouth leaving a mark on my boob. I liked that too much.

Maybe I liked being a slut. I was embarrassed, sure, but I felt really good. My body was still humming from the orgasm he’d given me.

“You going to sit over there, silent, and smile like that the rest of the way home? ’Cause if you are I’m gonna have to pull over again.”

I laughed and turned to look at him. His sexy grin was on his face as he watched me.

“I wasn’t smiling,” I told him.

He glanced back at the road. “Yes, sweet girl, you were smiling like a very happy girl.”

He was right. I was happy. How was I happy after everything I’d learned today? I never thought I’d be happy again when I walked out of that place, but then Grant had been there and he’d let me cry all over him. He’d made me happy.

“Thank you,” I finally said.

Grant glanced back at me and frowned. “Please tell me that you didn’t just thank me for sex.”

I shook my head. “No. I mean, it was incredible, but no. I was thanking you for coming to get me. For being there.”

His hand slid up my thigh and took my hand again. “You’re welcome.”

I couldn’t figure Grant Carter out. Two weeks ago I thought he was a guy who wanted nothing but sex from me, and once he’d got it he’d left. Then I thought he was hung up on Nan. But now . . . now I wasn’t sure what he was doing. He had come with me in the middle of the night to Vegas to find my dad. Then he had come after me so I wouldn’t be alone when no one else had thought to do that. Then we’d had the most amazing sex in the world. I didn’t have anything to compare it to but I was pretty positive that it didn’t get better than Grant.

“Why are you here?” I asked. I needed to know. If this was all about the sex I couldn’t say that I wasn’t going to still have sex with him, because I liked it. No. I loved it. He was addictive. But I needed to prepare my heart and emotions.

“Because you are,” he replied.

That didn’t make sense.

“I don’t understand that,” I told him.

Grant squeezed my hand. “I screwed up with you. I got scared and I screwed up. So I ran because I’m good at running. I always fucking run from things. But when I saw you standing in that kitchen at Nan’s I realized this time I didn’t want to run. I wanted to stay. I just needed the guts to do it. You’re worth fighting demons for.”

I sat there, unable to think of a response to that. Grant Carter was known for his looks, his sexy body, tattoos, and smooth talking. That was no secret. I’d heard the rumors and experienced the smooth talking more than once.

As much as I wanted to believe what he was saying, I was a smart girl. I had been burned already. Grandmama always used to say, Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me. I tried to live by that motto. But Grant made it hard.

“I don’t trust you. I may never be able to trust you again. But I do like you. You make me smile when I need it. I don’t want to keep you at arm’s length, because I want more of . . . well, you know. I just can’t promise you that I’ll ever get over the past.”

Grant didn’t reply right away, and I wondered if he was going to tell me to take a hike, that I wasn’t worth this. I wouldn’t blame him if he did. I was more high-maintenance than he first assumed.

“You’ll trust me again” was all he said. His hand never left mine and I didn’t argue with him. There was no point.

Mase called me when we were right outside Vegas. His mom had called and his stepfather had broken his leg falling off the tractor. He had just left Texas on a commercial plane back to Rosemary to get his truck and go home. He had wanted to wait for me, but he said his mother sounded tired and worried. He needed to get her some help, then he’d be back for me. He sounded upset and questioned me about how I was after seeing Emily. I assured him that I was okay and Grant was with me. That hadn’t eased his mind. “You need to be careful with that one. Let me bring you to Texas with me. I can help Mom and take care of you.”

He had meant well, but I wasn’t moving to Texas. Not now. I was ready to see where this thing with Grant was going first. I explained that I wanted to stay in Rosemary and if I needed him I would call. But I wanted him to stay with his mom and stepfather for right now. He seemed mollified by that and said he’d be back to Rosemary as soon as he could to check on me.

Grant had seemed silently pleased with Mase’s departure. I didn’t comment on that, though. Dean had apologized to me for telling me everything the way he had. I had hugged him and assured him it was okay. I needed to know, and I was glad I had witnessed Dad with Mom. I would never have believed it if I hadn’t. However, Grant didn’t speak to Dean, and I found that odd.

Once we were on the jet headed back to Rosemary, it dawned on me that I hadn’t slept in more than twenty hours. Grant seemed to read my mind. He took my arm and led me back to the bedroom and began taking off my shoes.

“Lie down,” he said in a husky whisper, and I did. I wasn’t about to argue.

He slipped off his boots and crawled up behind me and pulled me against his chest. We didn’t talk, but we didn’t need to. This just felt right. My eyes closed and I let the exhaustion of the day take over.