Chapter 52: That Night
\[Grant’s POV\]
I silently watch and listen as my brother and the woman I thought I would never see again after a hot, passionate talk.
It’s a weird twist of fate, but then again, this worked out perfectly for me because since waking up that morning and finding her gone, I had been searching.
We met that night by chance, and when the conversation flowed perfectly, her forest green eyes drew me in. Everything about her attracted me, and that was the reason that I made the decision to do something I never did.
I fucked her.
Not only did I fuck her, but I explored her body again and again until either of us was too exhausted to continue, and then instead of parting ways, we fell asleep, and when I woke the following morning, the bed beside me was cold.
Now, the one that got away stands right in front of me, and of all things, she is my new step-niece.
What a fucking joke. I think as I note how the woman in question tries to keep her gaze from meeting mine, and although it is amusing, it is also a bit annoying.
Who was she to act like this when I was the one who was left after such an amazing evening?
It was frustrating to say the least, but given our current predicament I couldn’t say anything.
“Then, I’ll be leaving.” The woman in question says, peeking toward me.
Even from here, I can see the need to escape in her green eyes, and it just entices me even more.
“I will be as well,” I announce, and I fight the smirk that wants to come as her expression shifts. “I’ll walk you out.” I continue, motioning for her to join me. “You can tell me a little about your work with the company.”
“What?” She gasps and then flushes as Anthony and Tonya look toward her. “I mean, it isn’t all that interesting.”
“Try me,” I tell her.
Giving Anthony and Tonya a nod, I start to move, and when I reach the little escape artist, I press a hand against her back.
A small squeak of shock escapes her at my touch, and I once again feel my mind wandering back to that night.
How was it possible that she was so bold back then when she was being so skittish now?
Was it because she was drunk or did she not want to meet me again that much?
Together, we walk out of the house and down the long walkway leading to where our cars are parked, and when we finally reach it, I grab her and push her against my car.
“Hey!” She gasps, her eyes widening. “What are…”
“Why did you leave?”
The words are leaving my lips before I can stop them, and as I speak them, I feel the irritation I felt that evening coming back.
Never in my thirty-five years of life has anyone ever escaped me if I didn’t want them to; she was the first.
“Did you hate it that much?” I continue as she just stares.
Growing quiet, I wait while the escape artist stares at me, her gaze unreadable, her lips set in a firm line, and when she lets out a huff of annoyance, I brace myself for what she has to say.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Her question is firm, as is the look she gives me, and it just makes my irritation grow even more.
“It was a one night-stand.” She continues. “One night. When the night ends we part ways and continue with our lives.”
Her words grate on my nerves as I suddenly feel like I’m being too much, but for some reason, I can't stop myself from wanting to know this woman in front of me better.
Maybe it was because of her standing here playing hard to get.
Maybe it was because of how much fun I had with her over drinks and then in bed.
I didn’t know and honestly, I didn’t really give a damn.
All I knew was that I wasn’t done with her yet.
“Take responsibility,” I snap, my annoyance starting to bubble over.
“Responsibility,” she repeats, her eyes growing wide. “What the hell do you mean by that? Don’t tell me you were…”
“No,” I growl, stopping her before she could say something ridiculous. “But you don’t get to be the one to say when we’re done.”
When I wanted something, I got it. That was the way I was raised up, and now that I found this little escape artist, I wasn’t about to let her go again.
“You’re going to take responsibility for using me and then running away before I even woke up.”
“Excuse me,” the little escape artist hisses. “But who the hell do you think you are to command me like that?”
She’s mad.
It is clear from the look on her face that she is, and I have to admit, she’s adorable.
“I’m your new boss.” I smile.
At my words, her forest green eyes widen, and her lips press hard together, and when her fists that are fixed against her side, clench and unclench, I feel like I may have gone too far.
“Are you threatening me?” She asks slowly. “Don’t you know that I could report you for that?”
“Who are you going to report me to, sweetheart?” I ask. “Don’t forget, I’m the boss. Now, I’m a bit hungry since I didn’t get to eat dinner. How about you join me?”
For a moment, the little escape artist doesn’t speak as she just stares at me, her eyes screaming just how angry she is.
"I'll pass," she announces, pressing her hands against my chest and pushing. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
As I step back, she easily moves past me, and as she heads toward her car, I can't stop my gaze from traveling to her ass.
"Stop staring at my ass," she calls, peeking over her shoulder. "Or I'll get you for sexual harassment."
"But you're intentionally waggling it at me like you did that night.” I chuckle. “Or have you already forgotten all that?”