Chapter 4 Lucian
LUCIAN
I pour myself another cup of coffee, gulping it down like water.
I feel like shit this morning—didn’t get a wink of sleep.
Hell, I knew it was hopeless as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Grace was all I could think about. The memory of her is like a fucking drug, flooding me with adrenaline and desire and guilt all at once.
I promised myself I’d let it go. Forget the curvy young beauty I rescued in the woods.
Forget her pretty lips and bright eyes. But it’s sure as hell not working so far.
I reach down absentmindedly to stroke Midnight, running my hand over her soft fur as I think back to how I acted yesterday.
Grace must think I’m an asshole. I deliberately avoided her gaze, giving one-word answers to her questions.
She was being so damn sweet, her voice like honey in my ears as she asked about my life.
But I had to keep my distance. Avoid temptation.
Every second I spent in the woods with her was another blow to my self control.
All I wanted to do was draw her close, but I forced myself to push her away.
I didn’t even turn back when I left her at Holden’s, not even when every cell in my body was screaming at me to take one last look at her.
Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me?
I set my coffee down, running an agitated hand over my beard.
This is all new to me—these crazy feelings.
I don’t know how to handle them. For the past twelve years, I’ve been completely alone, cut off from the world around me.
Everything has been focused inward, my thoughts stuck in the past, nothing but guilt and bad memories.
But meeting Grace has pulled me into the present with a fierce jolt.
For the first time in so long, I feel alive.
Like I’m still here. Still a breathing, red-blooded man. One look at her was all it took.
But I still can’t let myself want her.
My feelings don’t change the fact that she’s too damn young, too innocent…
My thoughts are going in circles, and with a grunt of frustration, I push myself up from my chair, reaching for my axe.
I need to get out some of my frustration, and chopping wood is the best way to do it.
But before I can grab the handle, a knock sounds at the front door.
Midnight turns her head toward it, her amber eyes wary.
Hell, I can’t blame her. It’s not something that happens often out here.
I head for the door and pull it open, and I swear my heart stops for a second when I see her standing there.
Grace. She looks even more beautiful than yesterday.
Her lilac hair is scooped back in a messy bun, stray locks framing her pretty face.
An olive-green sweater hugs her curves, the color matching her eyes as they sparkle up at me.
How is she even more perfect than I remember?
“Hi!” she says. “I hope I’m not bothering you, but I wanted to thank you again for yesterday. So I baked these.”
She holds out a plastic container that I was too busy staring at her to notice.
Inside, I can see two rows of heavily frosted cupcakes.
Grace presses the container into my hands, her skin brushing against mine, sending a jolt through me.
I should say something. Anything. But I’m tongue-tied as hell.
My mouth always seems to stop working around this angel.
“Thanks,” I manage to grunt. “They look good.”
“They’re a little over-baked but the frosting should make up for it.”
I nod, clearing my throat as silence descends between us.
Goddammit, say something, I think to myself bitterly. Invite her in.
Grace doesn’t seem uncomfortable with my silence. She just smiles at me sweetly, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking. Luckily, at that moment, Midnight comes to my rescue. I feel her brush against my leg, drawing Grace’s gaze.
“Aw!” she exclaims, crouching down to stroke her. “What a gorgeous cat!”
“Her name’s Midnight.”
“It suits her.” Grace grins as Midnight starts to purr loudly. “I always wanted a cat.”
“She’s a sweetheart. Eats like crazy though. Always hungry. Or asleep.”
Grace laughs. “Relatable. I should have made her something too. Maybe next time.”
It’s only a throwaway comment, but something stirs inside me at the words “next time”—like maybe this visit isn’t just a one-off.
“How long have you had her?” she asks, finally straightening up.
“Twelve years.” My throat tightens uncomfortably when I think back to the day I brought her home—a tiny kitten with a dead owner. I push away the memory and say, “She used to be a live wire. Mellowed out with age.”
Grace smiles. “I bet she still has her moments.” She takes a step back from the door, and my heart sinks when she says, “Anyway, I’d better go. Holden and Mila don’t know I’m gone, and I want to get back before they wake up.”
“Right. Sure.” I try not to betray my emotions. “Well, thanks for the cupcakes.”
“Anytime!”
She lifts her hand in an awkward little wave, and I swear my heart fucking melts.
She’s so adorable.
I watch as she turns and walks down the porch steps, her jeans hugging her rounded ass in a way that forces me to suck in a breath.
I should shut the door and go back inside, but something stops me.
My mind drifts back to yesterday at the river.
I’ve been running over it again and again since then, thinking about what would have happened if I wasn’t there.
Rivers can be deadly—I know that better than most. Hell, even just the short walk between my cabin and Holden’s is full of potential dangers.
I feel something urgent wash over me, the desperate need to protect Grace.
Guard her. She hasn’t been here long enough to learn the dangers of the forest yet.
Anything could happen while she’s walking around by herself.
I don’t let myself think. I don’t question whether it’s right or wrong.
Instead, I automatically follow Grace down the porch steps and into the trees, keeping my eyes locked on her retreating figure.
She’s several yards ahead, too far away to hear my footsteps against the dead leaves.
But I stay close enough to keep her in view, my heart hammering in my chest.
Am I seriously stalking her through the forest right now?
The woman I promised myself I’d keep my distance from?
But I don’t stop. Adrenaline keeps me moving, and when she reaches Holden’s cabin, I hang back.
She stops on the doorstep for a second, wiping her feet on the mat.
I stare at her through the trees, my gaze lingering on her thick curves, her shimmering hair.
She doesn’t look back as I watch her disappear inside, and my shoulders relax as the door closes behind her.
Grace is safe.
That’s all that matters.
I head back to my cabin, trying not to think about how much this girl has taken over my mind.
Inside, the cupcake container is waiting for me on the side where I left it.
I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, but I open it and take one, biting into the soft frosting.
It’s pretty damn good. I picture Grace mixing up the ingredients, baking them in the oven just for me, and the mental image fills my chest with warmth.
Dammit, she’s so sweet.
Grace is the first ray of light in my life for over twelve years.
I’ve gotten so used to being alone, isolating myself from the world and trying to forget what happened to my brother.
Trying to forget the worst mistake I ever made.
Hell, I’ve been married to my own damn misery, and I deserve it.
I really do. Happiness isn’t meant for guys like me, and I accepted that a long time ago.
But Grace is turning everything upside down. She’s making me want things. Want her.
It’s intoxicating, but I know these thoughts are crazy.
I’m deluding myself. To Grace, I’m just the grumpy neighbor next door: the recluse who barely talks.
Bringing over cupcakes was just her being friendly.
That’s the sort of person she is—bright, happy, kind—the total opposite of me.
I’m making this into something it’s not, exaggerating shit in my head.
With a grunt, I set down the half-eaten cupcake, dragging a hand over my grizzled beard.
This has to stop. These thoughts, feelings, the ache in my chest when I think of her.
It’s asking for trouble…for heartbreak. Broken men like me don’t get the girl.
We don’t get happy endings. We ruin everything we touch, tainting every good thing, making it crumble to dust beneath our fingers.
It’s time for me to come back to the real world and leave Grace alone.
If she’s light, then I’m darkness, and the best thing I can do is stay the hell away.