Inappropriate by Vi Keeland
Chapter 12
Ireland
Leilani wasn’t a woman. She was a boat.
A gorgeous sailboat.
Grant helped his grandfather board and then held out his hand to me.
“Thank you,” I said as I stepped onto the back deck.
His grandfather disappeared into the cabin immediately.
“He’s going to put on Frank Sinatra. Sometimes he forgets his wife. Sometimes he wanders off and gets lost. But he never forgets about this boat or Frank.”
I looked around the wide back seating area. “I can see why. This boat is incredible.”
“Thank you. Pops built it almost sixty years ago. He gave it to me as a gift on my twenty-first birthday.”
“Oh, that’s really special.”
“He built it as a sample, to use it to sell boats and take orders when he started his boat-manufacturing business. He borrowed the money from a loan shark who would have broken his legs if he didn’t get his money back. But he sold more than he could possibly build the first time he unveiled it at a boat show.” Grant laughed. “The loan shark’s grandson actually has the newest model, and Pops plays cards with the shark, who lives in assisted living now.”
I looked at the logo on the side of the boat. “I didn’t realize your family owned Lexington Craft. I don’t know too much about boats, but those are really beautiful. I see them in movies every once in a while.”
Grant shook his head. “My family doesn’t own it anymore. Well, we have a chunk of stock from when it was sold, but it’s been a public company for a long time. Pops stayed on to run it after the sale, but he retired ten years ago after he made sure the new management was as passionate about boat building as he is. He and my grandmother used to have a big boat over at the marina down the road, but they put it in storage a few years back, after he was diagnosed. This one is special to him, and he likes to come visit her.”
I smiled. “That’s understandable.”
Frank Sinatra started to play through the speakers, and a minute later Pops came out from the cabin. He had a box of cigars in one hand and a lit one in the other. His robe hung open, revealing a white T-shirt and white boxers.
“Pops, why don’t you tie your robe?”
Pops handed Grant the box and pointed his cigar at me. “You look like that actress...” He snapped his fingers a few times, trying to recall. “What’s her name—you know the one?” Snap. Snap. “The one with the big...”
I thought I knew where he was going with this. But then he snapped a few more times and shouted, “The one with the big balls!”
Grant and his grandfather went hysterical with laughter. I had no idea what the hell they were cracking up about, but watching them made me smile anyway. I also noticed how different Grant looked when he was relaxed and had a genuine smile. He seemed so much younger, so much less intimidating.
Grant was still chuckling when he explained what was so funny. “A couple of years ago, I took Pops to the store to get new shoes. He’d just started to struggle with his memory, and he wanted shoes with support soles, but he couldn’t remember the words support soles. For some odd reason, he thought the word he was searching for was balls—so he yelled that he wanted balls at the top of his lungs.”
He wiped tears from his eyes. “The salesperson had a good laugh, and from then on, Pops started to fill in words he can’t remember with balls. It’s interesting because he can always remember balls, but not the word he’s searching for. Anyway, it cracks us up every damn time.”
I’d thought being near cocky, confident, handsome Grant was dangerous, but seeing how sweet he was with his grandfather and how much he cherished their good times, made my heart swell in my chest.
Pops snapped his fingers a few more times. He seemed to get stuck on certain things. “Who the heck does she look like? She’s tall...I don’t remember her name.”
“She looks like a younger Charlize Theron, Pops.” Grant studied my face and winked. “Except she’s not as tall, and Ireland is prettier.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Pops nodded and smiled. “Great balls on that one.”
I’d been told I resembled that actress a few times over the years, but it had never made me blush before.
The three of us sat at the back of the boat for a while. Pops kept us amused with stories about when he’d first started building boats and all the trial and error that went into it. It was pretty amazing how far his memory stretched back, yet he would sometimes forget who family members were or where he was. At one point, he stood and announced he was going to go listen to his baby purr.
“He likes to listen to the engine,” Grant explained. He blew a ring of smoke from the cigar he’d lit a few minutes ago and held it up. “I think he comes for these more than anything these days. My grandmother won’t let him smoke anymore—not since he lit one and walked away and the rug caught on fire.”
“That’s just as well. They’re not good for you. And I never understood the appeal anyway. You don’t even inhale. I always thought they were a kind of phallic symbol men like to flaunt.”
Grant examined his cigar and grinned. “Glad I got the extra-thick Cohiba now.”
“Seriously, what’s the appeal with cigars?”
“It’s more about the moment it forces you to take. Sitting out here without this cigar in my hand, I’d probably take out my phone and scroll after a few minutes—or get up and do something around the boat. But a good cigar causes me to sit back and take a minute, reflect on my day or the beauty around me.” His eyes roamed my face, and his gaze heated. “There’s a lot to appreciate at the moment.”
Rather than squirm under his scrutiny, I opted to retake control. He had the cigar in the hand opposite me, so I leaned over him and plucked it from his fingers.
“Show me how to do this.” I raised the smoldering cancer stick to my lips.
Grant arched a brow. “You’re going to smoke my cigar?”
“Does that bother you?”
A dirty grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Of course not. You’re welcome to wrap your lips around my Cohiba.”
I rolled my eyes, but a shiver moved through me, even though there was no breeze.
“Hold it up to your lips.”
“Okay.”
“Pretend you’re sucking through a straw. But don’t inhale. Just take the smoke into your mouth and then blow it out. Don’t pull the air in deep from your diaphragm.”
I did what he instructed—at least I thought I did. But after I inhaled, I inadvertently swallowed some of the smoke and started to cough.
Grant chuckled. “I told you not to inhale.”
I sputtered. “Apparently that’s easier said than done.” I held out the cigar, and he took it back.
We sat together in quiet after that for a while. Grant kept his eye on Pops, who had his head buried in the engine on the other side of the boat while he tinkered. I looked around at the other boats and the marina.
“You must get some beautiful sunsets here.”
“I do.”
“Probably romantic. Do you bring your conquests here to get them in the mood?”
Grant brought his cigar to his mouth and wrapped his lips around the end. I was slightly turned on by the sight, especially knowing my lips had been there earlier. He puffed four or five times, then blew out a thick cloud of white smoke. “If by conquests you mean dates, then the answer is no. I don’t bring them here to get them in the mood.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “I just don’t.”
A loud slam brought our attention back to Pops. Grant jumped up, but it had only been his grandfather letting the engine hatch door drop.
Pops brushed his hands together. “Still as sexy as the day she purred to life for the first time. The carburetor could probably use an adjustment though. You’ll get better fuel efficiency with a little tweaking.”
“I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Pops.”
“You two kids ready to go? I need my beauty sleep.”
“Ready whenever you are.” Grant stood and attempted to help his grandfather up the gangplank and over to the dock, though Pops wasn’t having it. He swatted Grant’s hand away and climbed off the boat on his own.
Grant and I exchanged smiles, and I let him help me off the boat. The three of us walked together back to the waiting car.
It was a short ride back to Grant’s grandparents’ house, and Pops climbed out of the car as soon as we stopped. Grant hopped out to follow him.
When he got to the front door of the house, Pops turned back and yelled, “Goodbye, Charlize!”
I poked my head out the car door. “Later, Balls!”
Pops spoke to Grant, although I could still hear him. “Boy, she’s a looker, ain’t she?”
Grant smiled. “That she is, Pops. That she is.”
The two men disappeared inside, and a few minutes later, a woman I assumed was Grant’s grandmother opened the door again. She hugged Grant, and he waited until the door was closed, then double-checked to make sure it was locked before coming back to the car.
He climbed inside and shut the door. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh no. Don’t be. Your grandfather is a pistol. That was fun, and your boat is beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you get to use it often?”
Grant hesitated before answering. “Every day. I live on it.”
“Really? That’s very cool.” I raised an eyebrow. “But you said you don’t bring dates on the boat.”
“I don’t. I also have an apartment downtown in Marina Del Rey. Some people use a house as their primary residence and a boat for fun. I do the opposite.”
Hmm… Interesting.
We talked the rest of the short drive to my place. Our conversation was casual, but it was impossible to feel completely relaxed near Grant. He just took up too much space—both literally on the seat next to me and metaphorically inside my head. The driver slowed as we turned down my street.
I pointed to the tall apartment building, suddenly glad I lived in a nice neighborhood. “This is me.”
The limousine pulled to the curb, and the casual and relaxed mood abruptly came to a halt. It felt like the end of a date with an awkward goodbye, rather than saying goodnight to the CEO of the company I worked for.
I put my hand on the door latch and spoke really quickly. “Thank you for the ride home.”
Grant leaned forward to his driver. “Give me a few minutes, Ben. I’m going to walk Ms. Saint James to the door.”
“That’s not necessary,” I said.
Grant reached and put his hand over mine, which was still holding the door handle, and pushed open the car door. He climbed out first and extended his hand. “It’s necessary.”
With his hand on my lower back, Grant guided me ahead of him up the narrow walkway. I felt the heat from his palm scorching my skin and wondered if it was my body or his that was on fire. Maybe it was the connection between us.
My apartment was on the third floor, and he insisted on riding the elevator up with me, too. At my door, Grant shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.
“Thanks again for the ride,” I said.
“Of course.”
“Okay…well…you have a good night.” I did some sort of a curt, clumsy wave and fumbled to open the lock. Stepping inside, I looked back and smiled awkwardly one last time before shutting the door. Then I proceeded to lean my head against it and bang a few times. “God, you’re such a doofus around that man.”
Sighing, I walked toward the kitchen. But the bell stopped me after a few steps. Grant must’ve forgotten something. I walked back and checked the peephole before opening the door.
I smiled playfully. “Miss me already?”
Grant shook his head and frowned. He looked like he wasn’t very happy to be standing where he was. Blowing out an audible breath, he said, “Go out with me Friday night.”
“Uh... You sort of look like you’re asking me something dreadful.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I know it’s probably not the smartest idea, but I’d really like to take you out.”
I nibbled on my bottom lip. “Is it not the smartest idea because I work for you, or not the smartest because we met by me sending you a drunk email to tell you off?”
Grant smiled. “Both.”
I liked his honesty. And his jawline. And that tiny little dimple on the left side of his cheek that I’d just noticed for the first time. In fact, I couldn’t think straight when gazing at his handsome face.
So I looked down to gather my thoughts, but all that did was remind me of the other things I liked about him: his broad shoulders, narrow waistline… Damn, big feet, too.
Yet even with all that beautiful packaging, I still wasn’t sold. Though my reasoning wasn’t the same as his. Grant was wary because I worked for him. I was wary because something told me this man could eat me alive.
After inwardly debating the pros and cons, I looked up. “How about drinks? We see how it goes?”
“If that’s what you prefer.”
I exhaled. “I think so.”
“Then drinks, it is. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Could we have them on Leilani?” I asked. “Maybe watch the sunset?”
The muscle in Grant’s jaw flexed. “My apartment overlooks the harbor and faces west. The terrace gets a beautiful sunset. Or there’s a nice bar down at the pier.”
“I’d prefer your boat, rather than your porn palace.”
Grant’s lip twitched. “Porn palace?”
“You said you use your boat to live and your apartment for fun.”
His eyes roamed my face. “If I say yes, is it a date?”
I wanted to say yes in the worst way. I was incredibly attracted to him physically, but I also found his direct, no-bullshit attitude a turn on. Not to mention, he’d let down his guard around his grandfather and shown there was more to him than the gruff exterior. Yet…something about him terrified me.
I looked him in the eyes. “Do you just want to sleep with me, or do you want to actually take me out?”
Grant smiled. “Yes.”
I laughed and shook my head. “I appreciate the honesty. But can I think about it?”
His cocky smile fell. “Of course.”
“Thank you. Have a good night, Grant.”
I shut the door feeling deflated, but inside I knew I’d done the right thing. Nothing about Grant Lexington was simple. Especially the fact that he was my boss.
