Hero of my Future by Kat Bammer

Author:Kat Bammer
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9783903379152
Publisher: Kat Bammer

18

Grace

* * *

I thought about George nipping my finger, and a warm, tingling surge started in my chest and spread through my whole body until I could hardly keep myself from laughing uncontrollably and giddy-dancing in my car seat. The driver next to me at the red light must think I’m a lunatic, but I didn’t care. This feeling inside me grew bigger every time I remembered our night together. It was the best. I just had to remember how George had made me feel. How amazing and loved and ten-feet tall I’d felt, and I was back to giddy Grace.

I looked at my watch, then at the binder on the passenger seat. I hadn’t told him I was coming over, but since tomorrow was the memorial, I wanted to go over all the arrangements one more time—just to make sure everything would run smoothly. That, and I couldn’t wait to see him again.

I parked in his driveway and catapulted out of my car—so much energy. How could one night, one conversation, one declaration shift my entire outlook on life? I felt invigorated, bursting at the seams with energy and laughter, and joy. I couldn’t wait to see him, couldn’t wait to feel and experience and share time with him. Couldn’t wait to see what the future would bring.

Because suddenly there was a future to look forward to.

I danced up to the door, ran back to get my binder, and chuckled about the big smile mirrored in the car window. I couldn’t have wiped that smile off my face even if I wanted to. I remembered the last time I’d been here—just a couple of days ago. I’d been fuming, furious with him for standing me up. And what had happened once he opened the door?

His kiss had caught me by surprise, had changed my bad mood, had changed my life.

I skipped back to the door, rang the bell, and waited.

Nothing.

I wetted my lips and looked around. Stupid me. He was probably still at work. I should’ve checked with him before driving out here.

I fumbled for my phone when suddenly the lock turned and the door swung open. A woman clad in a skin-tight red dress stood there and stared at me with a questioning look on her face. “Can I help you?”

My skin tingled with discomfort, and my chest tightened. “Excuse me, I must’ve gotten the wrong house.” But what the hell? This was a bombshell if I’d ever seen one. Curvy, miles and miles of legs, honey-tinged skin, and shiny, dark brown hair to die for. And I sure as hell hadn’t gotten the wrong house.

She nodded, then fixed first one then the other earring.

Who could do that without using a mirror?

I leaned back and looked at the number next to the door. Nope, right house. Just as I thought.

Shit.

“Excuse me, but does a George Bryce live here by any chance?”

The woman, who seemed completely uninterested in me, nodded, her shiny hair swaying gently with the movement. Like in a fucking makeup commercial.

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