Rumor (Renegades #4)(18)
Author: Skye Jordan

“Honey, if you don’t want to be treated like a kid, act like an adult,” Jasmine said in that sassy way of hers, drawing a frown from Grace. “Adults go after what they want, and successful adults do it even when what they want scares them.”

Josh’s words from the night before pushed into her head. “Damn right you scare me. You’re the only thing that’s ever scared me, Grace.”

She shook her head against the emotional pull the words created. “He’s a runner. As soon as his conscience is soothed, he’s going to make skid marks out of town.”

One of Jasmine’s dark eyebrows shot up. “How is that a problem? Girl, you don’t have time for the love of your life. Between this job, your cheer jobs, and your mom, you exhaust me—and I parent twin four-year-old maniacs. What you have time for is one smokin’ hot guy to hit you up but good a few times and then get the hell out of your way.”

Grace had never been a hit-and-run kind of girl. But Jasmine was right about one thing—she didn’t have any room in her life for the complications of a reciprocal relationship.

Jasmine crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb. “Go after what you want—on your terms. Go after him the same way you’re going after this studio. You can be diligently single-minded, girl. Just shift your focus from business to pleasure.”

Grace glanced down the hall, where Josh was talking with the twins’ father while the boys played at their feet.

A fling? With Josh? That was ridiculous. A disaster waiting to happen. “This has been one hell of a long day already.” She returned her gaze to Jasmine. “Would you mind telling the girls I’ll be right out?”

Josh turned and started back down the hall, grin happy, stride confident.

“I’ll tell the girls that you’re…indisposed…for the time being.” Jasmine passed Josh in the hall on her way back to the dressing room, and punched his shoulder. “If you spoil my boys, they’re coming to live with you.”

“And I could take you up on that,” he said, grinning. “They’re great kids. Kudos, Mom.”

When he continued toward Grace, Jasmine turned with a hand over her heart and mouthed oh my God to Grace before leaving them alone.

All Grace’s anger had mellowed into confusion, complicated by all the lust zinging around her body.

“Josh,” she said. “This isn’t my club. You can’t just come in here and start renovating. And this kind of work can’t be good for your shoulder.”

He put one hand on the wall, one on his hip, and crossed one ankle over the other, all his perfection beautifully on display for Grace. And she was having a hell of a time keeping her gaze on his handsome face.

“I’ve made all the arrangements necessary with Dean,” he said. “And this type of work is exactly what my shoulder needs. Weights give it strength, but this increases mobility, helps develop fine motor movements—something I don’t get enough of in my current job.”

She crossed her arms, caught between anger and…what? Shock that he’d taken the initiative? Suspicion that he was working on a project that would only make her work here better, when he’d been clear about not wanting her working here at all? “Isaac told me you’re doing consulting work in LA.”

“I am,” was all he said, adding to Grace’s frustration.

She wanted to know about his life, his work. Wanted to know if he was happy. If he ever regretted the move. If he ever missed San Diego. If he ever missed her. Yet, she didn’t. “You are…maddening.”

“I’m good like that.” His grin deepened with a sheepish edge. “But hey”—he gestured to the blueprints Grace had paid to have created— “I got the plans from the contractors, and I’m following them to the letter, just the way you wanted.”

She shook her head, a hole growing in the pit of her stomach. “Look, I know you want to help, I know you love Mom, and I know—in your own way—you care about me. But I also know what’s going to happen here.

“You’re going to start this project with a golden heart and great intentions, then leave for Christmas with your family. Then something’s going to come up at work, and you’re going to leave this half-finished, forcing me to pick up the pieces.” She threw her hands out to the sides and let them drop. “I’m sorry, Josh, but I’m done letting men interfere with my life, take over, and in the end, screw up everything.”

Josh’s smile evaporated. He exhaled and started toward the doors.

Guilt cut at her heart, but this was self-preservation. She couldn’t go back to the way things had always been. “I’m sorry, Josh. I really am.”

Instead of walking out, he closed the doors. Then turned and pressed his back there. “You’re right. Beck has spent seven years interfering in your life. I’ve spent at least three. But when I said everything had changed earlier, I meant it.”

Why wasn’t she getting through to him? She crossed her arms, failing from keeping her gaze off his torso. It was impossible. He was like a damn sculpture, and she couldn’t stop staring. Or wanting. Or aching.

“And I know you’ve heard that before,” he continued. “But this time, I’m going to show you. I’m not going home for Christmas. I’ve already called my family and told them I won’t make it because I have something very important here to take care of.”

“You canceled Christmas with your family?” Shock sizzled through her chest. “Josh, no. No.”

She lowered her head, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temple. Now she felt guilty. And angry. And grateful. And touched. And so fucking confused.

“I’m spending Christmas here with you and Carolyn and your crew,” he said, his voice coming closer. His hands wrapped her biceps gently. He smelled so completely male, with a touch of sweet sweat and light spice. The hunger inside her gnawed. “And before you accuse me of doing this because I feel guilty, you need to realize there’s a difference between caring and obligation. And I care about you, Grace. I know my ways of showing it might feel heavy-handed to you, but that’s just me trying to get past your stubbornness.

“I was thinking about what you said earlier, about me picking up the cost for your mom’s care not being realistic, and you were right. That’s not the answer. You need a steady income for as long as your mom needs to live at the house. Which got me to thinking about what Dean told me—that you want to build this studio and teach from here. And that, I realized, is a perfect idea. I’m just helping it along.”