Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

Grant was slightly winded, which was reassuring. Otherwise I might have had to default to Theresa’s cyborg theory, because the stairs were narrow and steep. Though beyond the ma

rginally increased breathing, he didn’t appear to be struggling. I fished my apartment key out of my skirt pocket and held it up for him to see.

“Can you set me down so I can open the door?” I would have liked to have just hung out in his arms forever but I figured his biceps deserved a break.

He did set me down but he took the key from my hand and put it into the lock and turned. He pushed the door open and gestured for me to enter first.

Which was good, because you had to enter the apartment single file. There was a theme to our apartment and it was “slim.” Everything about it was very narrow. It was a bit like living in a tunnel, given there were only two windows at the front and both were behind the closed doors of my roommates.

“Welcome to the glamorous life of a wannabe actress,” I said, gesturing to my kitchenette, which was a baby stove, a dorm fridge, a sink the size of a bird bath, and exactly no countertops. There were two shelves on the wall that held our glassware and plates. Immediately to the right of the kitchenette and the front door was the bathroom, which had an odd step up. It reminded me of the bathroom on the cruise I took with my parents at eighteen to Cozumel.

Grant was glancing around to take it all in. That took about two seconds. “Where is the living room?”

“We don’t have one. My room was probably originally the living room but they put this wall up and now it’s a three bedroom instead of just two. More economical. For everyone.”

“I applaud the concept of keeping rent affordable.”

Grant looked crowded in the hallway, to my amusement. I opened my bedroom door and hobbled in. The pain in my ankle was bad but not intolerable. I figured I would just pop some ibuprofen, rest a few days, and I’d be good to go. It didn’t feel odd to lead him straight to my room because there was nowhere else to go. Besides, that’s where my makeshift medicine cabinet was under my loft-style bed.

For the most part I didn’t even think about what my room was lacking. It was a place to lay my head, nothing more. But taking Grant into my windowless cave made me aware of how much of a dorm room feel it had. It was what it was. I was proud of the fact that I had managed to survive the city as long as I had. It had chewed up and spit out a lot of my peers back in the day.

Except for the Fab Five. Five of us who had met at an audition at eighteen were all still besties and all still living in the city. Most of the others had disappeared over the years.

“It’s cozy,” Grant said.

He sounded a little concerned, I’m not going to lie. He was trying to be brave, but at the same time he looked scandalized. He put his arms out like a wing span. “I can touch both walls. Reminds me of my time on the ship.”

That gave me pause in reaching into my top drawer of the slender chest of drawers hugging the base of my bed. “The ship?”

He nodded. “I was deployed for nine months.”

“You were in the navy?” I hadn’t seen that one coming.

Grant was removing his suit jacket and he paused to give me a grin. “Don’t sound so surprised. I wanted discipline and focus. I grew up with lots of material advantages but no guidance. I needed to figure myself out. And I did.”

“I’m impressed.” I was. How many kids raised with wealth just went off to college and partied with their parents’ money? He smiled and it was a charming, slow, seductive smile that made my nipples harden. Damn it, he was so good looking and it had been ages since I’d been with a guy, and Grant had layers. He was successful, hot, kind, and now I knew he’d served his country.

I so wanted to have sex with him. But my mother’s lessons on being a proper host sprung up out of pure habit. “I’m glad to hear you’re comfortable in small spaces. Can I get you anything to drink?” I pulled out a pill bottle.

Grant shook his head. “I’m fine, thank you. Let me go get you a water so you can take that ibuprofen you’re clutching.” He hung his jacket on the doorknob.

I had a water bottle on a shelf that acted as a nightstand. “I’ll just use this.” I picked it up and took a sip and swallowed the pills I shook into my hand.

“Then you should get off your feet and onto the bed. It looks like you need a boost up.”

In order to have storage underneath, it was a platform bed and it did require I launch myself up. I wouldn’t mind having Grant do the honors. “Thanks. You should probably retrieve your very crumpled tie.”

Grant stepped in front of me. No, he stalked in front of me. He owned the space and his movements. Without his jacket on I could see even further how muscular his arms and shoulders were and I swallowed hard. He put his hands on my waist. His giant man hands practically spanned the width of my body.

He startled me by closing the distance between us and brushing a kiss on the corner of my mouth, and then the other. A shiver rolled through me. He shook his head as he stared into my eyes, looking amused. “I don’t give a fuck about my tie right now.”

Good. Because I didn’t really either.

Before I could formulate a response, he lifted me up and dropped my ass down onto my mattress. Then he bent over, the upper half of his body disappearing over the volume of my work uniform. Oh my God, was he just diving under my skirt? I hoped it was a deep dive.

My heart started to race but he picked up my foot, removed my shoe and sock, then went to the injured ankle. His touch was gentle as he removed that shoe and sock, then unwound his tie from around my joint.

Grant straightened up and tossed his tie onto my floor. Then he said, “Make room for me,” and jumped up onto the mattress next to me. He invaded my space entirely.