Chapter 15 #2
Good to know you’re paying attention.
TOBIN—11:19 a.m.
It’s impossible to not pay attention to
you, Grier.
She’d unconsciously stopped to lean against a traffic light pole. As a jogger passed by with her dog, the pup gave her leg a curious sniff, drawing a surprised laugh. Her phone vibrated in her hand.
GRIER—11:22 a.m.
Noted. I’ll try to make sure you get a good
show.
Tobin’s mouth watered at the words she read. Their banter was unmistakably back in the realm of flirtation. Saturday could not come soon enough.
When Tobin arrived at the market on Saturday, jitters buzzed beneath her skin.
She hoped that getting her bearings around the stalls would help calm her nerves.
She lingered by a storefront offering kombucha samples when a breeze swept through, laced with musky woods, patchouli, and bergamot—Grier’s unmistakable signature, arriving a heartbeat before she did.
She turned, catching sight of Grier before the woman noticed her.
Grier was wearing light-wash slim-fit jeans that hugged her toned thighs, and a slightly oversized cream knit sweater that hung just low enough to cover the curve of her ass.
Her chestnut hair was damp, pulled back into a French braid that she swung around to the front.
Tobin could have easily gotten lost in a daydream about how her ass looked under that sweater, but Grier suddenly noticed her.
Tobin became consumed, instead, by her amber eyes, the dark centers flickering as they locked on hers.
She caught the joy in Grier’s gaze before it dipped down to her perfect mouth—inviting and smiling.
She waved as Grier approached, then fisted her hands in the pockets of her bomber jacket. Were they supposed to hug? Was that awkward? They’d shared definite flirtations through text, but both were here under the agreement that this wasn’t a date.
Grier answered for her, reaching out to squeeze Tobin’s biceps in a warm, friendly manner. “It’s good to see you walking upright again.”
Tobin couldn’t stop smiling. Grier was here—with her, touching her, smiling.
“Yes. I found a great chiropractor. Really knew how to use her hands.” Tobin simmered, the urge to press the limits of flirtation clawing at her.
Grier threw her head back and loosed a full, hearty laugh.
Tobin watched the lines of her neck stretch with delight, clenching her hands to stop herself from reaching out to trace them with her fingers.
The smile across her face felt plastered in place, but real.
It warmed Tobin to know Grier had put it there.
“Well, do we have an agenda for our shopping endeavors this morning? Or are we just walking and hoping something inspires us?” Grier asked, her eyes never losing their smile.
“I have a list. But first, we should get some coffee and a snack— lunch won’t be ready for a few hours.”
“I like the way you think. Feeding me is always the first right answer. I can get a bit… hangry.” Grier winked at Tobin, and her mouth went dry. A simple wink, and Tobin could feel a chink in her finely crafted armor. This woman was going to be the end of her.
Perma-grin intact, Tobin somehow found the ability to answer Grier. “I seem to recall a speech that included such interests as doughnuts and root beer floats. I happen to know there’s a vendor here who has a root beer float doughnut that is… well, you’ll have to try it for yourself.”
Grier stood taller, calling on all her height to meet Tobin’s eyes, which were still several inches above hers. “You really have been paying attention, haven’t you?”
“It was exceedingly difficult to pay attention to anything other than you that night. In that dress.”
Their eyes locked, neither blinking. Tobin was barely remembering to breathe; staring into the swirling embers of Grier’s amber eyes had her entire body cemented in place.
“Your choice of wardrobe was hardly forgettable that evening,” Grier purred, and Tobin swore she could feel the vibration of her voice trail across her skin.
“Yeah?” She was sluggish, struggling to formulate sentences. She was lost in amber eyes and purring words—and she wanted to be lost in so much more. Anything this woman would offer her.
“Tobin?” Grier’s voice shifted, steadier, more commanding. But it didn’t matter, she was still lost to her eyes.
“Hmm?”
Grier took a step closer, narrowing the gap between them. Tobin could feel the heat of her body radiate through their layers. She could smell wisps of musk and patchouli. She could almost—almost—taste her breath. “For someone who insisted this isn’t a date, you’re playing with fire, as they say.”
The words hit her, shaking her out of her living fantasy. She cleared her throat. “Right. Um, doughnuts. They’re this way,” she said, turning before Grier could see the heat creeping up her throat.
They decided to split up between adjacent vendors, Grier grabbing coffee while Tobin collected the doughnuts.
“I still can’t believe you drink your coffee black,” Grier admonished, as they exchanged half of their purchases with each other.
Tobin handed over the root beer float cake doughnut, topped with fluffy whipped cream and a vial of root beer meant to be squeezed into the center just before eating.
As she settled it into Grier’s open palm, the back of her hand lingered just this side of intentional, and she felt a rush of warmth and electricity at the contact.
Grier’s touch returned a rush of memories from their last encounter—of their kiss. And, dammit, why wasn’t this a date?
“Coffee is a delicacy. It’s meant to be enjoyed bold and smooth. And that’s how I like it. You don’t, I take it?” Tobin played along, but was genuinely curious.
“No. I add creamer, like a sane person. Because I actually love myself. I’m starting to wonder if my initial impression of you was off.
Black coffee?” Grier chided her. “I’m not sure we can even be friends with proclivities like that.
” Then she playfully bumped Tobin’s arm with her shoulder and smiled—a smile so devastating that Tobin felt her toes curl—and nearly tripped.
“Well, that’s a pretty harsh line to draw. I mean, we haven’t even tried the doughnuts. What if I decide I don’t like root beer, too? Your threats have already been exposed; you’ll have nothing left to hold over me to maintain a tenuous grasp on our friendship.”
Grier suddenly stopped walking. Tobin had to actually turn around to find Grier looking at her in mock horror. Grier’s words crawled out slowly: “You don’t like root beer? Are you an actual monster?”
Tobin laughed. “I never said I didn’t like root beer.
I love it, in fact. I just wanted to know if that would be a friendship non- negotiable.
I believe I have my answer.” She couldn’t wipe the grin off her face.
The verbal sparring—especially in this lighter, more platonic direction—was putting her at ease.
She was having honest fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this light-hearted.
“I think the only fair way to settle this is to see who can finish their doughnut first,” Grier declared, face impassive, but a gleam in her eyes. A challenge.
“What are we settling? I said I like root beer!”
“But now I don’t believe you. You’re going to have to prove it.” Tobin swore she could see Grier’s eyes actually swirl under her
gaze.
“I… that doesn’t make sense. But I’m not typically one to back
off from a challenge, so… okay?”
“Ready, set, go!” Grier declared, heaving the doughnut into her open mouth.
Tobin was caught off guard by the sudden announcement, and then by the ferocity with which Grier began devouring the pastry— whipped cream clinging to her nose in the chaos of her frenzy.
“Wait, what? Not fair!” Tobin tried to fold the massive doughnut into her mouth—and utterly failed. The pastry crumbled in her hands as she bit into it, and the laughter bubbling up made her choke on the small pieces she’d just started to chew.
Tobin dropped the majority of her doughnut on the ground between them, belly-deep laughter causing tears to flow down her cheeks.
Grier—somehow having managed to actually eat her doughnut—threw her hands in the air in victory, then reached forward to grab one of Tobin’s hands as she joined in her laughter.
Hearing the sound of such unbridled joy escape Grier’s mouth was definitively the sweetest sound Tobin had ever heard. Knowing that she was the cause of it made Tobin acutely aware of all the things she was willing to do to hear it again.
Tobin handed Grier some wet naps, and they cleaned up as they continued walking, sipping their coffees. They collected the items they needed for lunch as they strolled side by side, easy conversation flowing between them.
Tobin’s heart was full, but she felt the weight of suspicion fall on her.
She didn’t trust that this ease between them could last. Everything seemed to fall apart around her; she knew the fears that had nearly prevented this interaction from happening were roiling just beneath the surface, ready to strike the moment she let down her guard.
When they arrived back at her house, Tobin immediately began preparing their lunch. Grier wandered to the open windows overlooking the covered deck and stared out at the lake. The day remained cold but clear, with miles of visibility stretching over Lake Aether.
“This is beautiful—all of it. Your home is gorgeous, Tobin. And the view—I don’t know how you ever leave.” She glanced over her shoulder at Tobin, an easy comfort in her posture.
“Some days I don’t. I just sit out there and watch the waves. It’s… my sanctuary. Where I go to just let it all go.” She shrugged, a little hesitant at how easily she was sharing these clandestine truths with Grier.
Grier returned to the kitchen and propped her arms on the counter opposite Tobin, who was busy prepping. “I can see why.”