“Ahh.” He blows out a relieved breath. “It’s okay. He’s not affiliated with the club in any official capacity.”
“All right.”
He glances over and smiles at me, then rests his hand on my leg, gently squeezing. “Got worried for a second.”
“About?”
“He’s a good looking kid. Closer to your age…”
“Pfft.” I snort-giggle. “He must be a few years younger than me. And all that swagger announces to the world that he’s a pure player. Not my type. Although, I do appreciate him helping me out,” I hurry to add, not wanting to sound ungrateful. I glance over at him. “Do you honestly think I notice anyone else when you’re around?”
“How about when I’m not around?” His tone’s neutral, calm even. Not accusatory.
I understand that our age difference bothers him so I answer seriously. “No, Grayson. You’re the only man occupying my mind no matter where I am.”
“Same, Serena. I want you to know that.”
I swallow hard and nod. He’s focused on the streets out of my neighborhood, so I doubt he notices.
The pavement is thick with snow. Gray takes his time, carefully commanding the unfamiliar vehicle. With him handling the driving, I’m able to sit back and relax, mentally preparing myself for the challenges ahead.
“Do you have a busy day?” he asks.
“My schedule is full but I bet I’ll have a few cancellations.” I gesture toward the windshield. “Because of the snow.”
“Your place doesn’t close down?”
“Maybe if there’s a state of emergency or something but otherwise, no. This is my first winter working here, though.” I stare at the few fat snowflakes still lazily drifting from the sky.
As we get closer to the hospital, the roads improve. Plows have clearly passed more than once and salted the streets. The pavement’s shiny and wet but easier to navigate.
Too soon, he’s flipping on his blinker and making the right into my parking lot. He pulls up to the curb and stops. “Door-to-door service, buttercup.”
I lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for making my morning so much better.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” He nods to a row of empty parking spots. “I’ll drop your car off so you’re not stranded.”
Don’t pout. “I won’t see you later?” I hope that didn’t sound too whiny.
“I’ll try but I have a few things to take care of today.”
“Well, I’m glad I got to see you first thing.”
“Me too.” He presses a quick kiss to my lips. “Have a good day.”
I gather my stuff and slide out of the truck, careful to avoid the piles of snow on either side of the walkway.
A few hours later, Lucy calls me to the waiting room.
I recognize one of the security guards leaning over her desk, chatting with her. He smiles when he sees me. “Your friend wants me to give these to you.” He holds out my car keys.
“Oh. Thank you.” I stare at them for a few seconds before stuffing them in my pocket.
The guard returns to chatting up Lucy and I walk back to my office. Why didn’t Gray text me? I would’ve met him outside.
Well, you did make a big deal about not being seen together or you’d lose your job.
He was probably trying to be respectful. Maybe he left a note in my car. Checking the time, I hurry into my coat and let Lucy know I’ll be right back.
Outside, it’s snowing again. My car’s sitting under the closest lamp post sparkling clean, except for a few slushy splatters around the wheel wells. My lips curve. Of course that’s where he left it. As I approach, my attention’s drawn to the tires. The shiny, black, nubby-treaded tires. I squat down next to the rear tire on the driver’s side and press my thumb into the tread. Definitely not the nearly bald tires I’d had this morning. Slowly, I walk around the vehicle.
Four brand new snow tires. They probably cost more than the value of the car.
I open the door and slide into my seat. It’s pushed all the way back and a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, thinking of Gray needing to adjust it to fit his long legs. I pull open the glove box and flip down my visor. No note.
Underneath his rough and gruff exterior, Gray is incredibly sweet. He doesn’t make typical romantic gestures. No flowers or love notes. But if he sees that I need something, he wastes no time fixing it.
My comfort and safety have never been anyone’s priority before.
I wish he was here so I could thank him in person.
Pulling out my phone, I dial his number.
“Hey, buttercup,” he answers, his warm, rich tone filling me with happiness.
“Thank you.”
“For?” A light note of teasing colors his question.
“Well, I happened to notice four brand-new winter tires on my car.”
“Huh.” He chuckles. “Wonder how that happened?”