Chapter 156
Grace's POV
I couldn't control myself. The way Alex looked at me – like I was the only thing that mattered in his entire world – made my heart race in the most wonderful way.
I kissed him. Right there on the sofa, with the golden afternoon light streaming through our floor-to-ceiling windows, I poured everything I was feeling into that kiss. The relief of being home, the overwhelming love I felt for this man.
Alex responded immediately, despite his injuries, his arms came up to wrap around me. His lips were warm and soft, and I could taste the faint hint of tea Lucas had probably forced him to drink. When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard.
When Alex finally started to shift, clearly intending to get up, I immediately pressed my hands against his chest.
"Where do you think you're going?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I thought I'd start dinner," he said, that adorable confused look crossing his face. "You must be hungry."
"Alex Morgan." I used my sternest voice, the one that made executives in boardrooms sit up straight. "You are still in recovery. The doctor said rest, and rest means staying right here with me."
He opened his mouth to protest, but I silenced him with another kiss.
"We're ordering takeout," I declared against his lips. "And you're not moving from this spot."
A smile spread across his face. "You're taking care of me."
"Someone has to," I teased, but my voice came out more tender than I'd intended.
Alex's eyes grew serious, and he reached up to cup my face with both hands. "I've never... no one's ever..."
"I know," I whispered, understanding what he couldn't say. "But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."
We ordered takeout and continued embracing on the sofa. Just as we were waiting for the food to arrive, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen – a text from an unknown number.
"Miss Grace looked very beautiful today..."
Alex happened to see the words on the screen, and his expression changed instantly. The gentle look in his eyes became sharp and alert.
"Who sent that?" His voice was calm, but I could hear the tension underneath.
I opened the full message: "Miss Grace looked very beautiful today. May I ask what brand of suit you were wearing today? I'm very interested in fashion. If it's convenient, I hope we can stay in touch. —Russell Edwards"
There was also a phone number below.
"Oh," I breathed a sigh of relief, "it's someone I met at today's business summit. We exchanged business cards and talked about some business topics."
But Alex's expression didn't relax. If anything, he looked even more grim.
"He called you beautiful." Alex's voice sounded calm, but I could feel something hidden underneath.
"It's just polite social courtesy," I explained. "Business small talk."
"Of course." Alex leaned back against the sofa, but his posture became rigid. "Why should I be angry? He complimented my wife's beauty. I should feel honored."
His tone was too calm, too controlled, which made me realize he wasn't calm at all. I could see the tension in his jawline, could feel the emotion he was struggling to suppress.
Jealousy. He was jealous.
"Alex..."
"It's fine," he interrupted me, but his hand unconsciously clenched into a fist. "Really, it's fine."
But clearly it wasn't fine. I could see the possessiveness flickering in his eyes, could feel the tension in his body. This man who was usually so controlled, so calm, was churning inside because of one harmless text.
I deleted the message and set my phone aside, focusing on him.
"You know what," I said softly, "I think you look cute when you're jealous."
His eyes snapped to mine. "I'm not jealous."
"Of course not," I laughed, then kissed his tense jaw. "You're just 'feeling honored.'"
The takeout arrived quickly. We set up the food on the coffee table in the living room, and I carefully selected an independent art film to watch. But Alex shook his head.
"Maybe something... lighter?"
I scrolled through the options until I found a romantic comedy.
"Perfect," Alex said immediately.
As the movie played, I found myself watching Alex more than the screen. He was completely absorbed, gripping my hand during emotional scenes, his jaw tightening during moments of conflict. When the male lead finally confessed his love, Alex's grip on my hand intensified.
By the time the credits rolled, I noticed Alex's eyes looked suspiciously bright. He cleared his throat and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.
"That was... good," he said gruffly.
"Honey," I said slowly, studying his face. "Were you crying?"
"No." His response was immediate and firm. "I don't cry at movies."
"Your eyes are red."
"It's allergies."
"We're on the fortieth floor with sealed windows."
"I'm tired."
I bit back a smile. "Of course you are."
But inside, my heart was doing somersaults. This powerful, intimidating man who could make billion-dollar decisions without blinking had just gotten emotional over a romantic comedy. The contrast was so endearing it made me want to wrap him up and protect him from the world.
Later, as I headed toward the bathroom for my evening shower, I heard Alex's footsteps behind me.
"Grace," he called softly.
I turned to find him standing in the doorway, his expression uncharacteristically uncertain.
"Yes?"
"I was thinking..." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe I could join you? For the shower, I mean."
My eyebrows shot up. "Alex, you're supposed to be resting."
"I know, but..." He stepped closer, his voice dropping to that low, persuasive tone that always made my knees weak. "My mobility is still limited. I might need help. For safety reasons."
I stared at him, trying to process this request. The rational part of my brain knew he was perfectly capable of showering alone. But the way he was looking at me, with that mixture of desire and vulnerability...
"Safety reasons," I repeated slowly.
"Absolutely. Medical necessity."
Despite myself, I felt a smile tugging at my lips. "You're terrible."
"But you love me anyway."
God, yes, I do.
"Fine," I said, trying to sound exasperated rather than excited. "But if you overexert yourself and end up back in the hospital, I'm telling Eleanor it was your idea."
His answering grin was absolutely wicked.