Dying for Love

He wasn’t worried anymore.

He glanced at the menu. Angell’s Bar & Grill tended to be fairly quiet, even during the dinner rush. Classy, great food and they weren’t too fussy about how their customers dressed.

They placed their orders and he rested his arms on the table. If he wasn’t mistaken, Grace had enjoyed riding on his bike. He’d certainly gotten a rise out of her riding behind him. Literally and figuratively. She’d wrapped herself around him in a way that went beyond the mere physical.

He sipped his water, searching for a safe topic of conversation. Something to keep her mind off the creep breaking into her place. “Have you made it out of the city yet?”

“I went to McCall. The Winter Carnival was fun, and the ice sculptures were amazing.”

“They’re different every year too. I try not to miss it.” He grinned. “They can get pretty goofy. There was a toilet one year.”

“You’re kidding.”

Matt shrugged, laughing. Grace chuckled, but a few seconds later her gaze drifted to the window. She had to be pretty upset about what happened at her condo. A woman living alone… He didn’t like her vulnerability with some freak on the loose. May as well address the elephant in the room.

“Is there anyone you’ve met since moving here that seemed off?”

Her expression didn’t so much as flicker, which told him her mind had been in the same place. She shook her head.

“I’ve been searching my brain. No one comes to mind. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened. No creepy vibes. No strange men following me.” She shrugged.

“All you can do at this point is be extra vigilant.” He wished he could offer her something more tangible.

“You’re right. It’s just so…I don’t know. Out of left field. I haven’t even lived here that long. This kind of stuff happens in the movies, to other people.”

Their food arrived and Grace poked at her steak, swirled the tines of fork in her mashed potatoes, stabbed a piece of lettuce, then set the fork down without taking a bite. He hated not knowing what to do and longed to find a way to comfort and reassure her. He’d dreamt about having her all to himself for months, and while he’d take it any way he could get it, knowing she was upset dimmed his pleasure. His mother had taught him that most women preferred a sympathetic ear to Mr. Fix It, but it was a difficult urge to resist.

Grace rubbed the back of her neck, cast him a soft smile, and began eating her meal. His shoulders relaxed.

Man, he had it bad.

Grace glanced up. “What made you get into construction?”

“My father was in the business, so I grew up around it. Starting up my own business was a natural extension. I just grew it bigger and better.”

Grace laughed. “Nothing wrong with your ego.”

“Hey, I won’t lie.” He grinned. “I’m proud of the company I’ve built from the ground up.”

“You have every reason to be proud of your accomplishments. What’s it feel like, when you’re driving around and look at a restaurant, a store, or someone’s home, and know you made that happen? You’ve left your fingerprint on this valley. That’s gotta feel good.”

He shrugged. No one had ever put it like that. She made him sound like more than he was, which felt damn good.

“I don’t think about it.”

Her eyes widened and she leaned forward. The low neck of her sweater gaped and no force on earth could have stopped him from enjoying the view. Beautiful, smooth skin the color of fresh cream. The lace at the top of her bra was just visible. He jerked his gaze back to her face and shifted the napkin in his lap a little higher.

“How is that possible?”

“I guess when I see the buildings my crews have put up, I’m still looking at them with a critical eye. Either that, or they blend into the landscape. It’s just business.”

Obviously unable to comprehend his lack of emotional depth, she shook her head. Great. Now she was probably rating him alongside a caveman. Desperate to save her opinion of him, he racked his brain. And came up empty. He frowned. Was he really that lame?

“Well, I have no room to talk.” She sighed. “I’ve never created anything. I still think it’s awesome, being able to leave your mark on the world like you do. I’d love to be able to do that.”

Relief flowed. Admiration laced her voice. She sure made an impact with him, but he doubted she’d been referring to that kind of mark.

“You’re part of the machine that puts those buildings in the ground, you know.”

She tilted her head and stared at him. Having her undivided attention made his hands clammy. How could one woman make him feel like an awkward teenage boy? He could handle a room full of businessmen, the wealthy couple who thought they could have the world at a bargain and the contract gone bad, with ease. Sit a black-haired, green-eyed woman in front of him and his nerve went out the nearest window.

When it came to romancing a woman, he didn’t have a clue. If a woman wanted him, he’d never had to work for it. If she didn’t, why bother? It was the twenty-first century. Women were aggressive; they went after what they wanted.

Grace shrugged. “I may be a small part—very small, but it’s not the same. Still, I appreciate you saying so.”

“If you want to leave a mark, have an impact, why are you working behind the scenes? Why not go for something more? There has to be something you love, some other desire behind that statement.”

She flushed and dropped her gaze. So there was something.

“Not really.”

“That’s a yes. You just haven’t decided whether to pursue it. Life is short, Grace. Go for your dreams.”

“You make it sound so easy. So simple. It’s not.”

“Why? Because it’s something that scares you? Chasing your dreams can be terrifying. The thrill of catching them is worth it.”

She stared.

He shifted in his seat. “What?”

“You have the soul of a poet, Matt.”

A slow smile bloomed and sparkled in her eyes, tugging at his very non-poetic soul. He swallowed. Just because he admired her, cared for her and wanted her, didn’t mean forever. Hell, she hadn’t even seen him as anything but her boss until recently.

“However…”

“Ah.” Matt grinned. “There’s always a however.”

“I’ve never been exactly ‘normal.’” She made air quotes. “Not many foster kids are. Heck, I don’t even know who my parents are.”

“That’s rough.”

She shrugged. “I survived. After being shuffled from home to home for years, I landed on Laura’s doorstep. She was a great foster mom. Taught me how to open up to people and shaped me into who I am today.”

“Sounds like she was an amazing woman. I’m glad you found someone to nurture you, sweetheart.”

Grace glanced up, eyes widening, and he cursed his slip. He wasn’t a teenager. He knew better than to wear his heart on his sleeve.

He cleared his throat. “Would you like dessert?”

“No thank you. This was plenty. I’m stuffed. I can’t believe I ate that much.”

He grinned and lifted a finger for the check.

His hand on the small of her back, he escorted her out of the restaurant. He leaned a fraction closer, dropped his chin and inhaled. She smelled like heaven. A sweet musky scent that was pure woman. She turned and smiled, her hair brushing across the back of his hand like strands of silk.

“Thank you for dinner. And for the ride.” Her gaze went to his Harley. A woman after his own heart, lusting after power and a rumbling engine. He could get into that.

Down, boy.

Handing her the spare helmet, he threw a leg over and settled on the low seat. He pulled on his helmet and started the bike, then held out his hand to help her on. He turned to make sure she got on safely. Grace grinned like a kid in a candy store, her eyes glinting behind the visor.

She climbed on like an old pro, hands clutching his sides while she settled. Her legs came to rest alongside his, her arms wrapped around him, and he revved the motor. The bike vibrated between his legs, and he could have sworn Grace moaned. Her arms tightened around him.

She did things to him he wouldn’t have thought possible. He’d perfected self-control. Or so he’d thought, until she came into his life.

Matt eased away from the curb, Grace clinging to him like a second skin. About as close to heaven as a guy could get. He rumbled to a stop at a red light and glanced back.

Grace raised her head and met his eyes. Cheeks pink, lids half-closed and moist lips parted, she was the picture of a woman on the verge of an orgasm. He bit back a groan. What he wouldn’t give to tip her over the edge.

He lifted his visor and Grace followed suit.

“How about a ride before I drop you at your place?”

She nodded, eyes sparkling. He revved the engine again. She bit her lip and her eyelids slid down. Holy crap. A visual slammed into his brain of Grace’s sweet pussy pressed against the vibrating seat. Of course, she was naked.

Her hips shifted, her heat pressing against him. Her eyes opened, bright with arousal. Watching her was the biggest turn-on he’d ever experienced. Two more seconds of this and he’d be useless. He winked, slammed his visor shut and faced the intersection.

The light changed and he rumbled forward, slow and easy, muscles tight. Damn, he needed to get a grip. So what if the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen was hot, bothered, and wrapped around him like a well-worn leather jacket. He was a grown man, not some horny teenager.

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