13. Laurie
Chapter thirteen
Laurie
Iwake up thinking about being kissed and immediately reach for my cleaning checklist like that will somehow restore order to my brain.
It doesn't.
I can still feel Grant's hands framing my face like I was something precious.
That didn't feel fake.
No.
I press my palms against my eyes and try to think about grout lines or supply invoices or literally anything except the way Grant Thorne looked at me.
Bethany appears in the doorway, already dressed, holding two travel mugs.
"You have that look."
"What look?"
"The 'I kissed Grant Thorne and now my brain is broken' look."
I throw a pillow at her.
She dodges easily.
"Mom. You are allowed to be happy."
"What are you talking about?"
"You are making lists at six in the morning. That is your panic language."
She's right.
I take the coffee mug she offers and wrap both hands around it.
"Bethany—"
"Go talk to Marianne," she says gently. "I will handle the lodge inspection binder this morning. You need perspective from someone who is not your emotionally intelligent daughter."
"You are very emotionally intelligent."
"I know. That is why I am telling you to leave before you reorganize the entire linen closet to avoid your feelings."
***
Marianne meets me at the coffee shop wearing sunglasses and a knowing smile.
"Something happened?"
"I kissed your brother."
Marrianne chokes on her latte.
"Tell me everything."
"Marianne—"
"Laurie Bennett. I have watched you survive grief and raise a brilliant daughter alone. You're deep-cleaning a haunted lodge without flinching. You are allowed to want something good."
My throat tightens.
"It is not that simple."
"Why not?"
"Because he is your brother. Because this was supposed to be fake. Because I am—" I stop.
Marianne waits.
"Because I am the woman people feel sorry for," I finish quietly. "The widow who lost her house and her dignity and ended up scrubbing floors for rich people. And Grant is—"
"A man who finally found someone who sees past the armor."
"A man who solves problems by controlling everything."
"Also true." Marianne sips her coffee. "But you are not a problem to him, Laurie. You are the thing he did not see coming."
I stare into my cup.
"I think I am in real danger of wanting this to be real."
Marianne reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.
"Good."
"Good?"
"Yes. Good. Because Grant does not kiss women unless his heart is involved. And you do not look like this—" she waves her hand up and down at me "—unless yours is too."