She steps fully inside the break room and the door closes behind her. “No. I thought maybe you did.”
I close the distance and run my thumb along her soft jaw. Her skin is so silky. I’ve longed to touch all of her for too damn long. “I definitely want to feed you.”
Her light-blue eyes sparkle with laughter. “I’ll get my purse.”
A loud click reverberates through the building.
“Oh no.” Grace grabs the doorknob and turns, but it only jiggles. She pounds on the door.
I move to the door leading to the loading dock where my van is parked. It’s locked too. “What’s going on?”
“Once the director, Felix Wilde, left, the guard probably hit the auto-lock on the building.” Grace’s voice tinges with panic.
“Can we call the guard?” I point to the red phone hanging on the wall near the door.
Grace picks up the receiver and pushes buttons. “It’s dead. My cell is in my purse.”
It’s important to breathe. While being stuck in the break room in an empty studio isn’t ideal, it’s not the end of the world. “My phone is in the van.”
She presses her head to the steel door. “My life is a disaster, and now I’ve dragged you into it too.”
Lord, she’s adorable. I take her shoulders, turn her toward me, then wrap my arms around her. “Look, it’s not what I had inmind for our second date, but we have food, a bathroom, and the lights still work.”
She looks at her watch but doesn’t pull away from my embrace. Pressing her cheek to my chest, she sighs. “It’s after eleven. We have seven-plus hours before the cast arrives.”
I kiss the top of her head. Her hair is soft and smells of flowers, even after a full day’s work. “I wouldn’t mind holding you like this for seven hours.”
Another sigh pushes from her. “I wouldn’t mind being held for the next seven hours.”
“Are you hungry?” I can’t resist combing my fingers through her shoulder-length hair.
“Famished. Is there anything good to eat?” She sounds weepy.
Gripping her shoulders, I ease her back to find she’s quietly crying. “What’s wrong? This isn’t the end of the world, Grace. I mean, unless you think being trapped for a few hours with me is the end of the world.”
More tears stream down her face. “You’re the nicest person I know. Why are you so nice? People aren’t nice. People always want something from you. Why didn’t we have a second date? Why aren’t we married with two kids by now?”
If a heart can stop from shock, mine just did. Or it might be joy.
Grace claps her hand over her mouth and stares wide-eyed at me. “I don’t know why I said that.”
Taking her hand, I lead her to the couch, and we sit. I keep her hand in mine. It’s small and delicate, but also strong and skilled. I love the way her hand reflects her so perfectly. “I’m not always nice, but I do like you, so maybe I try harder when you’re around. People can be nice, but it sounds like you’ve had a bad few weeks?”
“A year of hell.” More tears.
I squeeze her hand, wishing I’d been a friend she could have come to when times got rough, but we never made it that far. “People often want something. I’m not an exception. I want your time, and I hope, friendship. We didn’t have a second date because we both had very busy schedules that didn’t mesh. I gave up too soon, and maybe you did too. I can promise you it wasn’t because I’m disinterested. I’ve never been so happy to see anyone as I was when I spotted you this morning. I’m pretty sure that answers your last question too.”
“I think you’re always nice.” She leans her head on my shoulder. “People can’t fake nice with me. I’d know.”
“That Jersey Girl instinct?” Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I pull her close, and lean back.
She curls up and slides her hand over my abs. “You remembered where I’m from.”
“I remember everything about you, Grace. I really like you. I have from the moment we met.” Why didn’t I keep trying? “I’m sorry about the kids we don’t have.”
She giggles at my attempt to lighten the mood. “I can’t decide if I should seduce you or talk you into feeding me.”
It’s a little crazy, but I fucking love that she always says exactly what she’s thinking. My cock thinks being buried deep inside this fabulous woman sounds like a great idea and jumps to attention. “Does that habit of saying exactly what you’re thinking, get you into trouble a lot?”