Chapter 8
Wren
I grunt as I hoist the heavy box of files off my desk, my arms immediately protesting the weight. The cardboard corners dig a little into my forearms as I shuffle toward my office door.
It’s all good. I can do with the exercise. I keep promising myself I’ll start tomorrow, but…I never do.
“Oh, my gosh, Wren. You poor thing.” Sally’s voice cuts through the quiet clinic. Her chair scrapes as she pushes back. Within seconds, she’s out from behind her desk. “Let me get the door for you.”
She opens it and holds it wide; her eyes show concern as she watches me walk through.
“What on earth are you doing?” she asks, following me toward the exit. “What’s in those? Why do you even need them? You know it’s the weekend, right?”
I shift the box in my arms, trying to find a better grip. The weight is making my biceps burn.
“I agreed to input some of the older records into the system. I’m working overtime at home this weekend.”
Sally groans. “So you’re not going out then?” She shakes her head, looking disappointed.
“Nope.” I manage a smile even though my arms feel like they’re about to fall off.
“Boooorrrrring.” Sally shakes her head at me. “You’re young and cute. You should be going out…dating and having fun. Not spending your weekend with dusty old files.”
I adjust the box again, and a small noise of distress escapes my throat before I can stop it. The thing is getting heavier by the second.
Sally’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, I’m sorry! Go! Go put that in your car before you drop it. We’ll talk after.”
I nod gratefully and push through the front door. To make matters worse, it’s hot out. Thankfully, my car is parked close by. I make it there, set the box down on the bumper with a sigh, and pop the trunk open. I hoist it back up, and the box slides inside with a satisfying thud.
I’m just closing the trunk when I hear the rumble of an engine. My heart does that stupid flutter thing before I even turn around.
I know the sound Grim’s SUV makes. I don’t even have to turn around to know that it’s him pulling into the parking lot.
My heart rate kicks up a few notches, as always.
I’m going back inside to get the next box. Maybe he’ll be gone by the time I come back out. I always feel uncomfortable around him.
I hurry back into the clinic, practically jogging to my office. Sally is back at her desk, typing something into her computer.
I walk straight past and into my consulting room.
I start to bend to pick up the next box, but pause. Maybe I should wait a minute or two. Give Grim time to go inside, do whatever he needs to do, and leave.
Then I think about what Sally mentioned earlier in the week. Someone at the center complained about Grim. Apparently, he needs to be on his best behavior now, actually making an effort to get along with everyone.
I frown at the wall of my office. Why would someone complain about him? Sure, he’s not exactly Mr. Sunshine, but he’s never rude. Not really. He just…keeps to himself and isn’t much of a conversationalist, which is fine. I mean, he does his job.
I like him just fine.
He’s just fine the way he is.
The point is, I can’t believe someone would be that petty. To actually file a complaint because a guy doesn’t smile enough or make enough chit-chat? It seems wrong somehow.
You know what, I’m being silly hiding in here. I should just put the boxes in my trunk and get my butt home. I’m going to have an early night. I need to start work at the crack of dawn tomorrow if I have any hope of finishing in time.
I pick up the next box and head back out to reception. Grim is there, standing at Sally’s desk. His broad back is to me, and I can see the muscles in his shoulders shift under his white T-shirt as he gestures at something Sally is showing him on her computer.
My stupid heart speeds up again.
I’ve been making an effort to be nice to him. Ever since Sally told me about the complaint, I’ve felt so bad for him. It’s hard, though, because I’m so darned shy around him. Every time I open my mouth near Grim, my brain short-circuits, and I say something awkward or weird.
But I have to try to be nice. Some of the other staff haven’t had the nicest things to say about him lately. I refuse to be one of them.
I take a breath. “Hi, Grim.” I manage to sound relaxed despite my emotions…and the heavy box.
He barely glances over his shoulder at me and grunts a hello.
That signature grunt that makes Sally crazy, but that I find oddly endearing.
I adjust my grip on the box and head for the door. I’m almost there, already wondering how I’m going to manage, when suddenly Grim is there.
He pushes the door open for me, holding it wide.
“Thanks,” I tell him, slipping past.
“I can take that.” His deep voice rumbles from right behind me.
Before I can protest, he plucks the box from my arms. Our fingers brush for half a second, and I swear I feel an electric shock run up my arm.
It’s official: I’m an idiot.
“Thanks,” I mutter, my face heating.
We walk to my car in silence. I’m hyperaware of him behind me.
I open my trunk, and he sets the box inside next to the first one.
“Do you have any more of these?” he asks.
I nod, not trusting my voice. Then I remember I need to actually use words like a normal person. “Three more.”
We head back toward the clinic. Once again, I can feel him behind me, hear his steady breathing, and it’s making me intensely aware of every step I take.
Inside, he surveys the remaining boxes in my office. Then, without a word, he stacks two boxes on top of each other and lifts them both like they’re made of feathers.
“Put the third one on top,” he says.
My eyes widen because I know how heavy they are. Then I grab the last box, but he’s so tall that with two boxes stacked, I can’t reach the top. He seems to realize this at the same time I do, because he bends through his knees, lowering the stack.
His muscles bulge. Good lord, but he’s so freaking strong.
The words tumble out before I can stop them. “You’re so big.”
Oh God.
Did I really just say that?
Out loud?
To his face?
The corner of his mouth twitches, but he doesn’t say anything. I’m frozen, the third box still in my hands, my face burning.
Say something. Anything.
But my brain has completely abandoned me, and I just stand there like a complete idiot, staring at him.
I put the box on the stack, still trying to think of something else to say. I’m not sure if he feels the tension, or if it’s just me. Probably just me.
I can’t take my eyes off him. The material of his shirt is pulled tight over the largest biceps in the history of the—
“After you,” Grim says, and I realize that I’ve just been standing there staring at him.
“Oh!” I gasp. “Right. Sorry.”
I rush to open the door for him, holding it while he carries all three boxes through. My cheeks blaze with heat.
Once we are outside, I hurry ahead to pop my trunk again. He loads the boxes in, arranging them carefully so they won’t shift during the drive.
“Thanks so much,” I tell him. “I really appreciate the help.”
But he’s already heading toward his SUV on the other side of the parking lot, his long legs carrying him away.
“Have a nice weekend,” I call after him.
He lifts one hand in acknowledgment but doesn’t turn around. Then he’s climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the car.
I watch him drive away, feeling off-balance.
Crap! Turns out I suck at trying to be friendly with him. I should just leave well alone.
Back inside, Sally is grinning at me like the cat who got the cream.
“What?” I ask, even though I know that look.
“Nothing.” She’s still grinning. “How did it go?” she asks in a singsong voice.
“He helped me carry boxes. That’s it.”
“Uh-huh.”
I sigh and lean against her desk. “Sally, can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“You told me that Grim has been extra nice to everyone lately. Especially to Emma, Kate, and Autumn.”
Sally nods, and her grin widens. “Yup. And he’s doing a terrible job of it. Poor guy.” She laughs. “Emma is now a little afraid of him. She thinks he’s having some kind of breakdown.”
Despite myself, I laugh too. But then I turn serious. “He doesn’t seem to be trying with me. He’s the same as he always has been.”
The words come out sounding more hurt than I intended, and I want to kick myself. It’s not like I have any claim on him. He can be nice to whomever he wants. Or not nice. Whatever.
Sally waves a hand. “You’re probably reading too much into it. You told me he punched that rude guy a few days ago, right? The smelly one with the greasy hair who called you a bitch.” She makes a face of disgust.
I nod, warmth flooding through me at the memory. “He punched him right in the nose.”
“That right there was Grim being nice,” Sally says. “That’s him being his normal self. Maybe he feels like he doesn’t need to put on an act with you.” She gives a one-shouldered shrug.
I consider this. “I prefer him to be his normal self,” I admit. “All this trying-to-be-nice stuff sounds exhausting.”
“There you go. Him being genuine with you is a good thing.” Sally nods a couple of times.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m being silly.”
“You?” Sally grins wickedly. “Never.”
I roll my eyes and push away from her desk. “I should get going. These files aren’t going to input themselves into the system.”
“Wait.” Sally holds up a hand. “I have an idea.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t like that look.”
“You should ask him out.”
“Absolutely not.” I shake my head. “Sally, I’ve told you a million times. I don’t date people I work with. Ethan has asked me out several times now, and I’ve told him the same thing over and over, and I mean it.”
“Let’s face it, you’re not into Ethan,” Sally sighs. “You should ask Grim out—”
I start to protest, but she holds up her hand.
“Let me finish. For coffee. Just for coffee, and as friends. I think he needs a friend. Both of you could do with getting out more and…” she reaches for the right word, “smelling the roses more.”
“Smelling the roses,” I repeat, raising my eyebrows.
“Yes.” Sally’s eyes go wide. “Look, underneath all that grumpiness, I think he’s lonely. And you’re always working or staying home. You’re lonely too, even if you won’t admit it. What’s the harm in trying to make a new friend?”
“I um…I…” I sigh, because I don’t know what to say to her.
“Promise me you’ll at least think about it,” she presses.
I nod because it’s easier than arguing. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good.” Sally beams at me. “Now go home and have a good weekend with your files. Try not to party too hard.”
I laugh and wave goodbye, heading for the door.
There is no way I can ever be friends with Grim.
I’ve had fantasies about him. Fantasies involving my vibrator.
Friends? Hah…no! It wouldn’t work.