Emma had put him in an untenable position—she’d done it to Logan and Catherine before him. But Emma hadn’t realized Ben had an ailing mother to consider on top of his own feelings. In the light of day, Grace could even respect his decision to remain silent in order to secure his mother’s health and well-being.
She also recalled the intimacy they’d shared, and while she’d given him her body, she’d also given him her heart. He just hadn’t felt the same. “He doesn’t love me, Gran. He had fun with me. He cares about me. But he doesn’t love me.”
“And how do you know this? What makes you so certain?”
Grace swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Because he knows I love him, and he didn’t say it back.”
But she hadn’t actually said it to him, either, Grace realized. Her heart began to pound hard in her chest.
Emma raised an eyebrow, a gesture Grace had become familiar with over the years. One that meant her grandmother had all the answers while Grace or Logan or whoever she was lecturing had none.
“Since when do men lay their feelings on the line with words?” Emma asked.
Grace blinked. “Go on.” She glanced out the window again.
Ben still stood, engrossed in conversation. She hadn’t lost him—yet. And even without hearing what else Emma had to say, she already had one foot out the door—because she hadn’t laid her feelings on the line, either. And suddenly, she knew why.
She was a coward. She could let Ben go now and blame him for his lies, or she could accept his explanation and move on. Before Emma’s shenanigans had blown up in her face, Grace had promised herself she’d tell Ben she loved him. If he’d still chosen to leave, she’d have stepped aside without another word because he’d said no commitment and she’d given her promise that she’d let him go. But she’d never gotten the chance… because he’d never had the opportunity to reject her.
“Not everyone’s as open with their feelings as I am,” her grandmother said.
Grace laughed. “That’s an understatement.”
“And not everyone’s as cold and unfeeling as your father. He may never have said he loved you, but he does in his own arrogant, I-want-her-to-fit-the-mold way. Doesn’t excuse him for acting like an ass, but he loves you. And if you confronted him, he might just say it back. Or maybe he wouldn’t, and you’d be left out there raw and exposed. Same way you’ve been for most of your life.”
Grace blinked back tears. Her grandmother had just summed up her biggest fear—that Ben would reject her the same way her parents had. So, instead of getting past the lie, she’d let it come between them. Because it was easier to blame Ben than set herself up for potential rejection.
But thanks to Ben, she’d discovered the woman named Grace Montgomery. She learned she had an innate sensuality, a deep ability to love, and a heartfelt sense of honesty. How could she demand the truth from Ben if she wasn’t willing to give it herself? And besides, hadn’t she decided long before Ben that she was through hiding from life?
“The opposite sex is notorious for withholding their feelings. They won’t chance putting themselves out there to be hurt. It’s up to us women to make the first move. Where would we be if Eve hadn’t eaten the apple? We certainly wouldn’t be having all this fun, now would we?” Emma winked at Grace. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
Grace hugged her grandmother tight. “I’ve got to go.”
“It’s about time,” Emma muttered.
As Grace ran for the door, her grandmother’s voice followed after her. “Did I mention he’s refusing to take my money?”
Grace laughed, feeling more hopeful than she had seconds earlier, and slipped into the hall.
* * *
Ben took one last look at the high-rise building and turned to get into his truck. No point in indulging in lingering regrets or what-ifs, he thought. The end had come.
“Going somewhere?”
At the sound of Grace’s soft voice, he turned fast. She faced him wearing a pair of frayed shorts and a T-shirt. But cut the hem of the shirt, exposing the pale skin on her stomach and accentuating her curves. His mouth grew dry just looking at her and his jeans grew too tight.
“I asked if you’re going somewhere.” She folded her arms across her chest.
He wasn’t sure if she meant to be provocative, but the effect of her action pushed the rounded flesh up enticingly. “I was heading home.”
She nodded. “You never did mention where home was.”
“The Village.” He had no desire to stand in broad daylight and converse with her like total strangers. Just being around Grace and not being able to touch her reminded him of his bad judgment and mistakes, of all the might-have-beens and things they’d never share.
He turned toward the car, away from her, away from the memories.
Her sudden hold on his wrist surprised him. “Running again?”