Sordid

His words strike me. After everything that transpired between the two of us in the alley, I would have been inclined to agree at one time, but something tells me not to judge this broken man. There’s something dark and haunting about him. What’s happened to you?

“You’re not a bad person, Grant.”

At the sound of his name, his eyes lift to mine. “You give me too much credit, Bridget. You’re too good for me.”

“No. I’ve done bad things too. We all do. It’s what makes us human. It’s what you do with your life after the mistakes that make you good or bad.”

“How so?”

“Did you learn from your past? Have you atoned? If not, will you?”

“I haven’t done anything but wallow in self-pity and regret. I’ve let time slip through my fingers and I can’t get it back.” He shakes his head. “It’s too late for me.”

“It’s never too late, Grant. You have time to change and make things right. You’re a better person than you’re giving yourself credit for. I know you are.”

“You make me want to be better, Bridget.”

For the first time throughout this conversation, he smiles and it’s a beautiful thing.

“Grant, I . . .”

He moves in close. Too close. “I like my name on your tongue.”

Heat spreads through me at his words. Our shared kiss floods my mind, leaving me warm and tingly all over. Too close.

He extends his hand, palm cupping my cheek affectionately. “What am I going to do with you?” he says huskily.

I sigh into his touch. It feels . . . right.

Our eyes lock in a heated gaze, far too inappropriate to be occurring in his office with the door open, but I couldn’t care less. His touch feels wonderful and I’m reveling in it. Without another thought, I reach up on my tiptoes and bring my lips to his. He pulls me the rest of the way in, smashing our bodies together. His mouth opens, allowing my tongue to enter and meet his. We stand in the middle of his office, lip-locked and embracing, not caring who sees. As much as I want to push this further, I know I can’t.

Pulling away, I try to catch my breath. Grant’s forehead rests against mine. “I can’t infect you with the poison that is my life, Bridget. No matter how fucking hard it’s been to stay at arm’s length, I have to.” He frowns, grabbing my shoulders to keep me in place. “I have to, Bridget,” he huffs. “I have to.”

“Why?”

“My life with Chelsea is complicated, and you’d be smart to keep your distance.”

“What if I don’t want to?” My eyes pierce his. I want him to see how little I care about Chelsea in this moment. If he wants me, if he’ll allow me to be part of his life, I want that. I’m being careless with my heart, I know it, but I can’t stop. There’s something about this man I can’t resist.

“Chelsea would ruin you just as she has me.”

My eyes widen at his words. What could she possibly do? What has she already done?

“What happened, Grant? Tell me what Chelsea has done to you.” His tenderness and open attitude give me the courage to finally ask what’s been on my mind for weeks.

He tenses and pulls his hand away, leaving me cold and desperate to take back the words. He’s closing in on himself and shutting me out again. I feel it as much as I see it. He points at the picture still in my hands.

“Back then, things were easier. She lied, and she lied well. I believed every poisonous word she spoke. I didn’t know what I do now.” He turns away, effectively ending the conversation. I replace the photo in the cabinet, closing the door on all the questions swirling around in my head.

“I think that’s about all I need for today.” The tone of his voice has changed. He sounds angry and distant. This Grant isn’t the same man who stood in front of me moments ago.

“I’ll just grab my things,” I say, picking up my stuff and walking out on the one man I want more than anything.





I slept in my office.

For three hours after I sent Bridget away, I sat at my desk and stared at papers. I couldn’t focus, and ultimately I got nothing done.

I’m up to my eyeballs in work, and I can’t concentrate to save my damn life.

That fucking picture.

Everything was going great until she found that photo. Why the hell do I still have that? Isabella. She’s the only reason. She owns my heart and soul, and that picture reminds me of happier times. Of times when my heart and soul weren’t at war with my brain, when things were simple, when loving my daughter didn’t come with a price tag that threatened to strangle me alive. I only wish she had any sort of happy in her little life. The few short years she’s had on this earth have been full of confusion and abandonment. I work miserably long hours, and her mother doesn’t give a shit. Not about her, and certainly not about me. I could make a million dollars a minute and fly a private motherfucking jet every other week, but the truth is, I don’t feel like a success story. Not by a long mile. My daughter is miserable, and I know it.

Those few good years came and went quickly. Isabella won’t remember any of them. It breaks me to think that this is her life. That this is all she has to look forward to.

The sun has been up now for a couple of hours. I’m tired, and I smell like shit. I’m in need of a shower and about four more hours of sleep. It’s almost nine a.m., which means I’m fucked. Bridget will be here soon and I’m not prepared. She tried to get me to open up and I did as much as I ever have with anyone, but it wasn’t enough. I could see it all over her face that it wasn’t. I shut her down, and in the process, I hurt her.

But it’s for the best.

I have to keep her at arm’s length. Everything I said was true. Chelsea would ruin her. I can’t allow that to happen. I won’t allow it.

“Good morning, Mr. Lancaster.”

Bridget’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. As I lift my head, my breath catches. She’s beautiful and she doesn’t even try. Her hair is pulled back into a low bun with loose tendrils hanging around her face. She’s stunning.

“Did you sleep here?” Her voice has me clearing my throat and turning away from her.

“I have a lot to do.”

“That’s not a good excuse.” Her voice is stern, but it’s not cold.

My gaze lifts to meet hers. “I’m concerned about the opening,” I confide.

“Let’s take a look at what you have.”

My jaw drops at the woman in front of me. After my harsh exit yesterday, she should be avoiding me. Hell, most would have quit by now, but not her. Every day she comes in here more determined than the day before. If I’m being honest with myself, this is the very reason I’m drawn to her.

Her strong will calls to me, and I’m losing the battle with myself every damn day. I know I need to keep my walls up, not let her sway my resolve, but I can’t. Her ability to rise above our issues and help me regardless of everything has me no longer able to ignore these desires deep inside me.





“It’s a big undertaking and I want to make sure everything runs smoothly.”

Grant has his plan spread out across the desk. He regards me expectantly, clearly looking for affirmation that his ideas are good. I smile at him. He isn’t so bad when he’s like this. He’s almost insecure. It’s cute, considering he’s supposed to be a cutthroat businessman.

“You’re not alone,” I assure him.

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