Page 99 of First Bride to Fall
“Like a rock, apparently.” She laughed, then wrinkled up her nose, probably at the trout smell. She sent him a knowing look. “Having a full belly helped.” She held a stack of clean clothing, a makeup bag, and a brush. Her hair was in a bit of a disarray, but her face appeared fresh and perky. “How about you? Sleep well, too?”
He flipped the fish in the skillet, ignoring the full-belly remark and her little smirk. The one that made her so infuriating and yet a whole lot enticing.
Yeah, she was definitely onto him.
“Yep, I did.”
She grimaced. “Sorry I slept so late.”
“No worries. You probably needed it.” And there he went feeling guilty yet again. When he’d left her with that list of chores, he’d expected her to yell and scream—or at least fuss and grumble—and furiously push back. Not flit around his cabin like a frenzied cleaning fairy waving that toilet brush as her wand.
She goggled around the room and at his mounds of camping stuff. “What’s going on?”
“Camping day,” he said. “But first, brunch.”
“Well. I can’t wait for that!”
He chuckled. Rather than rising grouchy and sore, Nell was perpetually upbeat. How did she do it? What’s more, why did her positive attitude tend to rub off on him? He felt happier when he was around her, even though he warned himself not to get sucked back in.
He was going through with today’s plan. Period.
He forced himself to run through the facts. While she said she’d been interested in him before all this and had wanted to get to know him, could he believe that? Did it matter? She’d given them a frenetically fast goal of becoming serious.Wayserious.
Grant didn’t like being pushed or operating on other people’s schedules. He made up his own mind about things he wanted to do and the women he decided to pursue. He wasnotgoing to let his defenses down and recklessly fall for a woman just because she was racing against a ridiculous timeline so she wouldn’t have to marry some British guy.
No matter how much he liked her.
“Fish and grits and coffee okay?” he asked as she walked toward the bathroom.
She paused in the doorway. “Coffee?” Her wide eyes sparkled with gratitude, and he was glad he’d made her happy, in spite of himself. It wasn’t like he was trying to make her mad at him, per se. He simply wanted the woman to pack up and leave him—and what he suspected would be his broken heart—in peace.
“Yes, ma’am. I made it in my French press.”
She viewed the French press on the counter. “I didn’t know you had one of those.”
He chuckled. “You probably wondered how we were going to make the coffee when you put away the groceries and saw those coffee grounds.”
“Yeah.”
“Can I pour you a cup?”
“That would be great.” She pursed her lips. “After I shower, though.”
She basically had the ability to look gorgeous all the time, whether she’d showered or not. Even in the pouring rain, like she’d been on their hike, or drenched by the hose like she’d been yesterday after their water fight.
Full stop.
Now was not the time to consider Nell’s attributes.
This was the day to construct the hurdles he knew she’d never surmount, no matter what game they might now be playing. So yeah, maybe she was onto him or maybe she wasn’t. Though he heavily suspected the former. This wasn’t even about compatibility anymore. Maybe it never had been. He and Nell were engaged in a knock-down-drag-out battle of wills. She might have beat him at Scrabble, but she wasn’t taking the spoils in this war. He was. And, when all was said and done, Nell was going to be the one to explain the whole pseudo-engagement mix-up with the town. Not him.
He wasn’t expecting a big blowup or anything, but he did anticipate Nell packing her bags and going home. Then, that would be that. She’d leave him, and he’d be off the hook. A free man by his birthday.
“All right-y,” he said lightly. “Take your time.”
…
Nell emerged from the bathroom feeling like her old self again, her heavy damp curls falling past her shoulders. She deposited her PJs back in the bedroom, then came into the kitchen. Grant gave her an appreciative glance. She wore dark stretch pants under her woodsy green peasant blouse and had slipped her chocolate brown cardigan on top of that. The sweater was one of her more successful projects, even though it had taken her forever.
