10. Theo
10
THEO
I can’t stop pacing the length of the living room. Every few minutes, I glance at Grace, curled up on the couch with her legs tucked beneath her, flipping through a magazine, though I doubt she’s reading anything.
She’s been restless lately. I can see it in the way she fiddles with her hair, the way her eyes dart to the windows, the door. She’s going stir-crazy in this house.
We’ve upped security, turned the estate into a fortress, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t protect her from the walls closing in on her.
I haven’t wanted to allow her out of sight, either.
I can’t stand seeing her like this. Caged. Bored. Anxious. It’s like I’ve built this safe haven around her, but it’s slowly becoming her prison.
I need to do something. I need to give her some semblance of normalcy before she snaps—or worse, pulls away from me entirely.
"Grace," I say, my voice cutting through the silence. She looks up, her eyes flickering with surprise. "Why don’t we go out?"
Her brows furrow. "Out? Where?"
"Anywhere," I shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. "Shopping, dinner… whatever you want."
She stares at me for a moment, clearly taken aback by the suggestion. I don’t blame her. I’ve been so focused on keeping her locked down, ensuring she’s safe, that I’ve forgotten she’s still a person with a life outside of all this.
"I don’t know…" she hesitates, glancing toward the windows. "The stalker…"
"I’ll make sure we’re secure," I say, cutting her off. I won’t let anyone touch her, no matter where we go. "I’ll pay to have the shops shut down, the restaurant too. It’ll just be us."
She blinks at me, her mouth twitching as if she’s about to argue, but she doesn’t. Instead, she surprises me by giving a small, tentative smile. "I guess a little shopping wouldn’t hurt."
A strange mix of relief and something else pools in my chest. "Get ready. I’ll make the calls."
Half an hour later, we’re in the back of the car, heading into the city. Grace looks out the window, her fingers tapping rhythmically on her knee. She’s nervous. I can feel it.
Hell, I’m nervous.
I haven’t taken her out in public since all of this started, and while I know I’ve done everything to ensure her safety, the thought of her being exposed, even for a minute, has me on edge.
But I can’t let her see that. I need to be steady for her, even if it’s just an illusion.
We pull up to the first boutique, the kind of place where the prices are ridiculous, and the clientele even more so. The entire street is empty—no pedestrians, no shoppers.
The store itself is closed to the public, just as I promised.
I can already see the discreet security personnel I’ve positioned at every corner, ensuring no one gets within a hundred feet of her.
Grace looks over at me, raising an eyebrow. "You really did shut down the entire place, didn’t you?"
I shrug, trying to hide the flicker of guilt. "It’s safer this way."
She doesn’t say anything, but as we step out of the car, I notice the way her shoulders relax slightly.
I’m on edge because of the risk, but it helps seeing her relax so much. This is what she needed.
The store manager greets us at the door with a bright, eager smile, clearly thrilled by the private event. Grace steps inside, and immediately, her eyes light up.
I didn’t realize how much I needed to see that until now—how her demeanor changes the moment colors, fabrics, and styles surround her.
I stand back, watching her move through the racks, her fingers brushing against the different materials. There’s something different about her right now. She’s more relaxed, more herself.
She holds up a dress to her body, glancing at herself in the mirror before moving on to the next item.
She’s breathtaking.
She pulls a flowing, deep emerald dress off the rack, holding it against her frame as she turns to me. "What do you think?"
I blink, caught off guard by the question. She’s never asked for my opinion on something like this before.
Why would she?
"It’s… nice."
She laughs, rolling her eyes. "Nice? That’s all you’ve got?"
I walk closer, my eyes tracing the lines of the dress, then moving to her face. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips curved in a smile, and I realize I’ve never seen her look more alive than she does right now.
"Okay," I say, my voice lower than I intended. "It’s more than nice. It’s perfect."
Her eyes meet mine, and something passes between us. Something that feels a lot like the tension we’ve both been skirting around for days now.
She holds my gaze a little too long before returning to the mirror, the fabric of the dress swishing softly as she moves.
"I’ll try it on."
I nod, clearing my throat as I step back, but my mind is stuck on that brief moment—the look in her eyes, the way my heart skipped when she smiled at me like that.
I watch as she disappears into the fitting room, and as much as I try to focus on anything else—the security, the exits, the plan for dinner—all I can think about is how she looked at me.
Like I’m more than just the man protecting her. Like I’m someone she wants.
The shopping trip goes on longer than I expected. Grace is in her element, and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m not as annoyed as I thought I’d be.
I like seeing her like this—carefree, happy. She emerges from the fitting room in a low-cut blue dress, and I feel a tightness in my chest that I can’t explain.
She twirls in front of me, laughing. "What do you think? Still ‘nice’?"
My mouth goes dry. She’s breathtaking.
"You look… stunning."
The smile she gives me is enough to make my pants tighten.
I’m in trouble. Big trouble.
After the shopping spree, during which I discreetly pay the store manager enough to ensure the entire evening is forgotten, we head to dinner.
I’ve arranged for the restaurant to be closed, too, just for us. It’s over the top, but I don’t care. I need to know she’s safe.
And this alone time with her, in these different settings, is worth it.
When we arrive, the staff is ready, and the place eerily empty except for us. Grace looks around, amused.
"You really do go all out, don’t you?"
I shrug, leading her to the table in the middle of the room. "I’m not taking any chances with your safety."
She doesn’t argue, though I can see the glimmer of appreciation in her eyes as we sit down. The tension between us is palpable now, hanging in the air with every shared glance, every quiet moment where we both seem to realize just how alone we are.
The waiter pours us each a glass of wine, and I watch as Grace takes a sip. Everything she does tonight feels like it’s charged with something I can’t ignore.
Something I don’t want to ignore.
The dinner is perfect, of course. The best food and wine are all tailored to make this night flawless. But it’s not the food I’m thinking about. It’s Grace.
The way her eyes catch the candlelight, and her laughter fills the empty space around us.
"You’re quiet tonight," she says, tilting her head slightly as she watches me.
I blink, shaking myself from the thoughts swirling in my head. "Just… thinking."
"About?"
I hesitate, unsure if I should say what’s really on my mind. But then I remember how she looked at me in the boutique, how she smiled when I told her she was stunning, and I decide that maybe it’s time to stop holding back.
"You," I say, my voice low, serious.
Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t look away. "Me?"
I nod, leaning forward, my elbows resting on the table. "I can’t stop thinking about you, Grace. About us."
She swallows, her lips parting slightly as her gaze drops to my mouth for just a second before she quickly looks away. "Theo…"
"I know things are complicated right now," I continue, my voice soft but firm. "But I can’t pretend I don’t feel something for you. And I don’t think you can, either."
There it is. The truth. Out in the open, hanging between us like a live wire.
She looks down at her wine glass, her fingers tracing the rim. "You’re right," she whispers, so quietly I almost don’t hear it. "I can’t pretend, either."