but she didn’t like him pointing out truths that she didn’t want to think about. “Last night my shoulder felt great,” she added.
Grant froze at that, clearly surprised. His gaze locked on hers, hot and dark. “Well, I’m no expert, but I’m aware that endorphins can be powerful things.”
She nodded, darting her tongue out to wet her lips. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and she felt heat tingle through her belly and between her legs. Yeah, see, all she needed was more Grant.
“So maybe I just need another dose of those,” she said. She definitely did. Regardless of what the hell was going on with her shoulder.
“Endorphins only cover things up,” he said, dragging his eyes back to hers. “If you have an actual serious medical issue, you need to get it looked at.”
“Maybe you’re just overreacting,” she told him. But there was a niggle in the back of her mind. Not the one that said having him worry about her was kind of nice. The other one. The one that reminded her that Alicia had also mentioned something else that could cause stabbing pain in the shoulder blade area that came and went. And there was the other niggle that reminded her that she’d had pain two days ago in her stomach.
“Maybe I am,” Grant said, agreeing with her overreaction comment. “But I’d rather assume it was something worse and be wrong than risk underestimating it.”
She tilted her head. “Why is this bothering you so much? I didn’t drop your canister.”
He opened his mouth. Then shut it. Then looked at a spot over her head. Then met her eyes again and said, “I think you know. It’s the same reason I’m still in Appleby after deciding I was going to leave two weeks ago.”
Her heart did a happy little flip. See? That was romantic. He was smitten. It wasn’t love—that would be ridiculous—but he felt drawn to her. She sighed. She’d always wanted someone to be smitten with her.
“You don’t look sorry,” he commented wryly.
She widened her eyes. “About?”
“Keeping me here. Making me worry about you.”
“Well, good,” she said. “I’m not sorry about that one bit.”
He laughed lightly and her inner muscles tightened.
“I appreciate your honesty.”
“And I appreciate your… endorphins,” she said with a grin.
“Zoe?” Grant asked, without looking away from Josie.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t suppose… in light of the shoulder injury and all… that Josie could get off early tonight?”
Zoe laughed. “Do you actually think that’s subtle? At all?”
“No.” He gave Josie a small grin.
“So what you’re really asking is can you take my best friend home and kiss it all better?”
Grant’s grin got bigger. Josie smiled in return. She loved Zoe.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m asking.”
“Then yes,” Zoe said. “You can. If,” she added, “you make her take ibuprofen, and you put some ice on her shoulder at some point, and you talk her into making an actual appointment with Alicia, not just a casual chat when they’re at the post office.”
Josie felt a flicker of guilt. She hadn’t run into Alicia at the post office. She’d asked the nurse practitioner about her shoulder when she’d been dropping bars off at Alicia’s house. Bars that had not been made at Buttered Up. Of course, they didn’t have those bars on the menu. Buttered Up’s menu had been the same, for the most part, since Zoe’s grandmother had first opened the doors over fifty years ago and seven-layer bars hadn’t been a part of her plan.
But still, Josie could never fully shake the guilt of baking for money on the side.
“You think I can convince her?” Grant asked.
“I think you have some… leverage,” Zoe said with a nod. “You know… withhold a few endorphins until she agrees. Something like that.”
Grant blinked but then slowly grinned. “Interesting idea.”
Josie’s eyes went wide. “Hey! No fair!” She leaned around him to glare at her best friend. “Whose side are you on?” Whoa, that leaning thing made a pain jab her in the side. What was that? Josie worked to not wince or gasp.
“Well, Grant’s, obviously,” Zoe said with a shrug. “As long as his side includes you being safe and healthy.”
Josie swallowed and sat back—carefully—and looked up at Grant, batting her eyes again. “Oh, you wouldn’t do that, would you? I mean, withholding my ‘endorphins’ would mean fewer ‘endorphins’ for you too.”
“Would it?” he asked, his eyes hot. “I’m not so sure about that.”
Something in his tone and their teasing made her whole body heat and she leaned closer. “Oh?”