Their one-night stand was supposed to put an end to all this. End the curiosity and the anticipation. The reality was supposed to sink in so they could both move on. It had totally backfired. Now she just had this hot memory that rushed to mind every time she saw him, or thought about him, or he inappropriately propositioned her on a public sidewalk. It didn’t help her resolve anything at all.
“This place needs a lot of work. Why is your bed in the living room?”
Pepper’s eyes flew open at Grant’s observation. He had pulled up one side of the towel again and was investigating her house, just as she feared. “I know it needs work. The bedrooms aren’t usable right now. There’s a reason no one is allowed in the house, Grant.”
“No one, huh? I thought it was just me.”
“No. My own family hasn’t even been in here yet. You’re actually the first person to step foot into my home.”
Grant smiled, his chest slightly puffing up at his ability to make it over the threshold of her private abode, as though he had charmed his way inside. Then he looked around and squinted at the little home she had cobbled together for herself. “You need to invite some more people over. Like a carpenter, an electrician, a plumber, a painter . . .” His voice trailed off.
“Very astute of you,” Pepper noted with a frown. She knew it was bad. She didn’t need someone else pointing it out and making it seem even worse. “Yes, it needs a lot of work. But work takes money, and money takes time. I’ve finally saved up about five thousand dollars, and the week before Valentine’s Day, I’m going to get the ball rolling.”
“That might be enough to make it livable.”
“And that,” Pepper said standing up, “must be enough milk. Let’s load up a baggie with ice and get you home.”
“Why?” He pouted, pulling the last of the damp towels from his eyes.
Pepper smiled as sweetly as she could. “Because you can see. And if you can see, you’re miraculously cured and I no longer have to keep you in my home.”
Chapter 4
“How many times do I have to tell you, Grant? When a woman says no, she means no.”
Grant looked up at Blake’s amused expression as he strolled into the living room of their family home. “Very funny,” he muttered. He should’ve known better than to show up for Sunday dinner today. He was certain to draw his fair share of harassment for his puffy, bloodshot eyes. He’d hoped when he woke up, the swelling would have gone down. And it had. He could see just enough to drive. But he still looked like hell. “So how did you find out?” he asked.
“Pepper told Ivy, who told me, of course.”
“Perfect. Does anyone else know?”
Blake shrugged, but Grant had a hard time buying his aloof response. That wasn’t the way his family worked. There were virtually no secrets. Well, there was the one only he knew about—the one he kept about his father’s extracurricular activities—but for the most part, if one of them knew something, they all knew it. That meant at least three out of his five siblings were about to give him a ribbing. Thank goodness his older brother Mitchell was away at med school and his baby sister, Hazel, was too nice. She was the only one of the children without blue eyes and the only one without a vindictive streak a mile long.
This was confirmed as Maddie bounced down the stairs with a wicked grin on her face that contrasted sharply to her perky ponytail and fuzzy pink sweater. “Aww, don’t cry, Grant. I’m sure there’s another red-haired skank in town for you to chase after.”
“Shut your mouth, Maddie, or you’ll be the one crying,” Grant snapped.
He loved his family, but sometimes, loving his older sister, Madelyn, was the hardest of all. He didn’t know how Mitchell withstood nine months in the womb with her. She was a French-trained pastry chef whose beautiful confections made even the toughest person smile. You’d expect her to be friendly and happy. But she wasn’t—at least not unless she was with her gaggle of girlfriends making fun of someone. She was a mean girl who hadn’t grown out of it when school ended, the way he’d hoped.
He was getting tired of her opinion where Pepper was concerned. She always had a nasty quip, a dig, an insult whenever Grant mentioned her. They had been in the same grade together, so he’d been hearing this long before he started pursuing the redhead. Pepper didn’t like his family, and Maddie didn’t help the matter. It was no wonder Pepper was hesitant to be seen with him.
Maddie rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’m really scared,” she mocked, and headed on toward the kitchen. Before he could get up from the couch, Simon came in the room, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. Grant sighed. Yes, everyone knew.
“So,” Simon began, “we got a report last night of a grown man screaming in the Robertsons’ front yard around midnight. Know anything about that?”
“I was not screaming.”
“What would you call bellyaching so loudly you woke an eighty-four-year-old deaf man from a sound sleep?”
“Unfortunate.” Grant clapped his hands on his thighs and got up. He was about three seconds from bailing on dinner. He could just as easily pick up a calzone from Pizza Palace and eat it in peace.
That was when their mother, Helen, came into the room.
Her hazel eyes swept over her three boys, her brow drawn together in concern. When she finally stopped at Grant, she frowned. “Cookie says that supper is ready. Grant, what did you do to your face?”
“A girl pepper sprayed him,” Hazel chimed in as she skipped past them toward the dining room. Her voice was more chipper than he’d heard in a long time. She seemed to be getting an inordinate amount of joy out of his situation. Perhaps Grant was wrong about her being the nice one.
Their mother’s mouth dropped open, her delicately manicured hand flying up to cover it. “Oh sweet heavens, are you okay?” She rushed over to where Grant was standing to examine his injuries. At least she seemed worried about him. Everyone else just wanted to tease him abo