“If you’re trying to cheer me up, it isn’t working.”
He laughed quietly. “I’m saying that I do have a reason to help you. And more than anything, I don’t want to see you fail.” There was only one solution to this and it was staring him in the face. He was duly torn by what he saw as a logical answer—part of him wanted to have so much time with her. And another part of him knew how much it hurt when she tore herself away. “With Clay out of town, you and I are the only ones who can fix this. Which means we’re going to have to work all weekend.”
“How can we possibly do it without an architect?”
“I don’t do renderings and site plans anymore, but I am still licensed. We can at least come up with a workable plan to bring to Clay on Monday morning. We’ll just have to hope that he can pull it off by next Friday.”
“You’d do that for me?”
In an instant, he wanted to say. “I’d do it for the firm. As I said, I don’t want us to look bad in front of our competitors. I’d rather squash them like a bug.”
“This means so much to me. Truly. It means the world that you’d want to help. How do you want to do this? Should we set up a space in one of the conference rooms?”
Grant then saw that this might be a glimmer of what he thought he might not get again—one more chance with Tara. “No. We’ll work at my house. All weekend.” He was pleased with the fact that he’d come out with it with so much confidence. That wasn’t what he was feeling, at all. Still, he knew that this might be his final opportunity with her. He stood a much greater chance of showing her that they could work together in more ways than one while they were at his place. And he was far more likely to finally come clean with the things he’d been hiding for a decade if he’d at least had a glass of wine or two.
“The two of us? Alone? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“It was different a month ago. The office atmosphere was still shaky after Johnathon’s death. I think we’ve all started to come to terms with it.”
“Okay then.” She nodded eagerly as she took the binder from his desk. “I’ll run home and change before I come over.”
“And pack a bag, Tara. I have a feeling you’re going to want to stay over.”
Thirteen
Despite having designs on Tara, Grant refused to be obvious in setting the stage for romance. He couldn’t handle any more rejection from her. No, if he was going to have the chance to kiss her again, and perhaps take her to bed, he needed it to happen of its own accord. He might give it a nudge here or there, but it would ultimately be something that happened between them because they both wanted it wholeheartedly. No more reservations. No more second-guessing whether it was a good idea.
He knew what a dangerous line he was walking. Tara and the other wives still held all of the cards when it came to Sterling. If they wanted him out, they could make it happen. But here he had a chance to play a role in the Seaport proposal. At worst, he could make the case that he’d done everything to save Tara’s pet project. That had to earn him at least a few brownie points with the wives.
Grant had set up a work area at the table in his informal dining area next to the kitchen. He opened one of the sliding glass doors to let in the ocean breeze. This was one of the most spectacular views on his property—tall frameless windows showed off the windblown landscape of his backyard—palm trees and a seemingly endless stretch of bright green grass, which dropped off to the Pacific below.
He’d stood out near the edge of that cliff many times and thought about Tara, across the bay in Coronado. He’d done it when he had women with him. He’d done it when he had women in his bed, waiting for him to return. Perhaps it was just that Tara had always felt like unfinished business. They had an unbelievable connection, and for so long, Johnathon had been in the way. Now that was no longer true, and he really didn’t want the business of Sterling Enterprises to be the roadblock anymore. If he and Tara were not meant to be, he could accept that, but only if it was because she couldn’t return his feelings. He was tired of letting other factors stand between him and a glimmer of happiness.
Tara arrived a little after eight o’clock, looking absolutely breathtaking in a pair of jeans and a turquoise top that clung to every curve. It was a nice and casual counterpoint to her usual businesslike demeanor. “I’m freaking out,” she said, breezing past him.
He closed the door and followed her through the foyer, down the central corridor to the back of the house where the kitchen and great room were. “Don’t panic. All we can do is try.”
“I appreciate that, but I’m still panicked. Miranda and Astrid are going to wonder what in the world I’m doing.”
“That’s between you three.” Once again, he wasn’t about to let anyone else stand between Tara and him. “For now, I think that saving yourself and your pet project is the right call. Plus, Clay has sunk a ton of hours into this already. We can’t let all of that go to waste.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Do you have any wine?”
Grant was so relieved he hadn’t
