Page 24 of His Saving Grace

“I was in a coffee shop in town when your mom came in and saw me sitting alone. She sat down, and we got to talking, and she offered me a job.”

That was the condensed version. She wasn’t about to go into the nitty-gritty details with him, because she knew it would lead to questions. Questions she wasn’t willing to answer.

Hunting for a job had been a pretty painful process, given that she didn’t have any ID and most employers thought it was a pretty important piece of the puzzle. She’d been on her third hot water refill for her single tea bag, and nursing a scone from the day-old basket. Cash had rapidly been becoming a thing of the past. She’d been bordering on desperate.

And then Eloise had breezed in, snapped her umbrella closed and their eyes had met. She’d glanced down at the X’s Grace had drawn through most of the positions in the help wanted section of the local newspaper. With a quick nod, she hung her coat on the rack next to the door and slipped into the seat across from Grace, introducing herself with “you want a job?”

Eloise had then explained her need for an assistant and hired Grace on the spot. The only other questions she asked were Grace’s name and when the last time she’d eaten had been.

“And that was it?”

She wasn’t surprised by Mason’s question. She just didn’t want to get into it with him. But they were trapped in the truck together, so she was had to say something. “Yup, that was it.”

Yeah, that is so not going to fly, you know?

Even though it was dark in the truck, she could feel Mason’s gaze on her. As they passed a streetlight on this stretch of highway, she glanced over at him.

He was turned toward her, his head tilted to rest against the seat. He looked relaxed, but there was tension in him, highlighted by the set of his jaw and his narrowed eyes. “She just gave you a job? Invited you to stay at the ranch?”

A prickle of fear skittered down her spine at his accusatory tone, and she instinctively leaned away from him. Making sure she was out of reach.

It took her a second to realize what she’d done. She consciously unclenched her tense muscles. It was unlikely he’d noticed. It was dark, he was drunk.

A car passed in the opposite direction, illuminating the interior of the truck. She glanced at him again. Yup, he’d definitely noticed.

His gaze was trained on her, his expression morphed into one of curiosity. She could almost see the wheels spinning in his head. He reached across the space, put his fingers on her elbow. She flinched and pulled her arm away.

“Grace—”

“Let’s listen to some music.” She didn’t wait for him to respond, just snapped on the radio. Some God-awful caterwauling blasted through the speakers. She didn’t turn it down. Let the noise drown out anything he might say.

She kept her gaze on the road, suddenly acutely aware of Mason’s size. How much space he took up in the truck. How strong he was. How close together they were.

In her peripheral vision, she saw him reach over. She flinched, but he only turned down the radio. She expected him to turn it off, but he didn’t, just left the volume at a more tolerable level. And then he disappeared from her line of sight.

The minutes ticked by slowly, her heart beating in her throat. The long, quiet stretch of highway was dark, punctuated by the orangey yellow streetlights spread out at even intervals.

She needed to get a grip. Mason wasn’t going to hurt her. No one was going to do anything to her. Make her do anything she didn’t want to do.

And this music was giving her a massive headache.

“Do you mind if I change the station?” She glanced at him.

He made a grunting noise. She had no idea what that meant, so, at the next streetlight, she risked another glance in his direction. His head was tilted back, his eyes closed. His thick, dark lashes rested on his cheeks. He had his arms crossed over his chest, pulling his t-shirt taught. The position highlighted the breadth of his chest and the strength of his arms. Each deep breath pulled the fabric tighter and that band of heat low in her belly contracted.

She was such a bloody mess. Freaked out one second, lust-filled the next. What the hell was wrong with her?

She twisted the knob on the radio, passing talk radio and sports shows, a classical station, and a Spanish language one. She finally found a country station playing a song she recognized, so she stopped, although she did turn the volume down another notch.

Not that Mason deserved the courtesy, but honestly, him being asleep right now was way better than him awake and asking stupid questions, or being all attractively disheveled in her space, or whatever.

She sat back and let the familiar melody and the peacefulness of the dark night calm her scattered nerves. It had been an emotional night. No wonder she was all over the place.

She thought she had gotten a hold of her skittishness. And to a certain extent, she had. She was no longer afraid to go out in public. She didn’t panic at the sound of every creak or thump. She was bolder, and more sure of herself than she had been in a long time.

At least until Mason showed up.

This stupid, whatever it was between them, twisted her up in knots, and she wasn’t sure where she started or where she stopped. He made her feel things she hadn’t felt in… well, years. Her insides turned to marshmallow when he was near. Her knees quivered when he looked at her. Her heart fluttered when he smiled at her.