Grant (Riding Hard) - Jennifer Ashley Page 0,62
little things no one else would care about, no drama or trying to perform for each other.
Just love and intense happiness.
The rain fell harder. Grant glanced out the window and was no longer able to see across the parking lot. Then came a pounding on the roof as the rain turned white.
“Hail, yeah!” someone in the restaurant yelled.
Christina rolled her eyes. “That was only funny the first twenty times I heard him say it.”
“Clint needs new material,” Grant agreed. “Hey, tomorrow, you know … after …” After they learned the test results. “Why don’t we take a drive? Maybe go out to LBJ, have a picnic, take a boat out. You know, kid stuff.”
He didn’t have to add if the weather’s better, because this storm would be long gone by morning. At the moment, though, the hail pounded down outside, two-inch chunks of ice that bounced off cars and the asphalt, slamming into the windows, which fortunately held.
“Sure.” Christina gave him a strong smile, the one that made her beautiful. “Maybe you’ll go swimming, and I can see you in a thong.”
Grant barked a laugh. “Yeah, right. In what universe?”
“You have a nice ass. I’d pay to see you walking around the shore in nothing but a teeny little piece of fabric.”
Grant leaned toward her. “You don’t have to pay, baby. I’ll do you a striptease for free.”
“Not in my restaurant,” Mrs. Ward said, halting by their table. “Once you’re out of here, what you do is your business. Now, what can I get you two?”
At that moment, someone in the back yelled, and curses rolled from the kitchen.
Mrs. Ward’s brows slammed together. “I’ve been having some leaks. The roofers swear they fixed them all, but this is what happens when you have flat roofs and Texas rains.”
“Why don’t you go take care of that?” Grant asked, his face still warm from being caught offering the striptease.
“You two want your usual?” Mrs. Ward asked, poised to go.
“That would be great,” Christina said.
Mrs. Ward hustled away, her voice rising as she reached the kitchen. “What the hell? You call those people and tell them …”
“We might have rainwater on our steaks,” Grant said. “Doesn’t matter.” He reached over and took Christina’s hand. She squeezed his fingers. “As long as we’re here together, having fun.”
Christina opened her mouth to answer. Whatever she’d been about to say, Grant never knew, because at that moment, the entire roof groaned. Plaster crashed down from above followed by a torrent of dirt and water.
Grant was out of the booth the second he saw plaster dust in his iced tea. He grabbed Christina and yanked her down with him, shoving her under the table moments before the entire section of the ceiling collapsed.
Chapter Eighteen
Christina yelped as Grant landed on top of her, pressing her into the cold vinyl floor. Ceiling tiles, bolts, and pieces of metal poured around them, followed by the water that had built up on the roof to send it smashing down.
The place had gone dark, fuses blowing. People screamed. One man yelled into a cell phone, calling for the fire department.
Christina held on to Grant as his back took the bulk of the mess.
“You okay?” he kept saying. “You okay, Christina?”
He wiped dirt from her face. The deluge finally eased but didn’t completely cease, a constant patter taking its place.
“I’m going to climb out,” Grant said in her ear. “Hang on to me; I’ll get you through.”
Christina complied. Grant backed out from under the booth, throwing off pieces of ceiling tile as he went. He kicked and cleared debris away, as others were doing, then set Christina on her feet.
The downpour of ceiling tile and water had stopped, but the roof was still making noises Christina didn’t like.
Mrs. Ward’s voice sounded over the din. “If you can all go out the back door and get to the store, we can take shelter there. Keep the street and parking lot clear for the emergency crews. Anyone hurt?”
No one admitted to being, though one child cried loudly.
“Come on.” Grant had his arm around Christina’s waist.
He guided her out the back door, both of them wincing as the hail came down. The downpour had lightened the slightest bit, but the hailstones stung where they stuck.
Grant’s truck was close, but if the hail grew heavy again, they wouldn’t necessarily be safe inside the cab. Hail could break windows and destroy vehicles in a heartbeat.
The convenience store, a much newer structure, had tall, solid awnings, and a thick-walled,