More Than a Hand to Hold

Summary: In the wake of Kate’s disappearance, Grant convinces MC (Mara) to take a break from her workaholic tendencies.

Mara is so engrossed in the article she’s working on that she doesn’t hear Grant say her name the first time, or the second, or the third. She does hear him the fourth time, when he says her name a little louder.

“Huh?” she says, startled, and reluctantly looks up from her laptop.

“You’ve been staring at that screen for hours,” Grant says.

“I have not,” she starts to protest, then registers the tiny numbers in the corner of the screen. “Oh.”

The last time she’d looked, it had been noon. Just a couple more hours, then I’ll take a break, she’d told herself. Now, the clock reads 6:05. She remembers letting Grant into her room at the B&B and telling him she just needed a few more minutes.

“I can’t stop now,” she insists. “I think I have something. I’m finally getting somewhere.”

“I know that feeling, Mara,” Grant says. “But believe me, you’ll keep working and look up again and another six hours will have gone by.”

Mara smiles up at him wryly. “I take it you’re speaking from personal experience.”

He grins at her. “Comes with the job.”

Grant clears his throat when she slowly drags her eyes back down to the screen, and Mara sighs.

“Okay, okay, I’ll take a break,” she agrees, clicking save and closing the document. “Any suggestions?”

“Have you eaten?” he asks.

Mara looks at him sheepishly. “I ate some Reese’s earlier.”

Grant laughs and offers her his hand. His long fingers briefly twine with hers as she stands up and stretches.

“That’s not food. You need actual, real food,” he says. “There’s a little restaurant just outside of town. It should be quiet tonight. If you want?”

Little and quiet sound ideal. It had taken no time at all for the town of Birchport to start gossiping about her, the reporter from New York. The fact that the members of the Sterling family weren’t her biggest fans only added fuel to the fire. Of course, if people thought that would deter her or drive her off, they were sadly mistaken.

“That sounds great,” Mara agrees. “I should probably stop trying to run off of chocolate and coffee.”

Following him out the front door of the B&B, she can see a few other guests watching them.

“We seem to be the talk of the town,” Mara observes with amusement.

Grant holds the passenger door open for her. “It’s a small town,” he says by way of explanation.

When he gets in and they drive off, one hand on the steering wheel and his other arm resting on the middle console, he asks her, “Does it bother you?”

Mara laughs. “What, that people know I’m spending time with an incredibly successful lawyer who is also a total gentleman and, as an added bonus, is really attractive? I’ve been suspected of dating far worse people, trust me.”

Grant coughs back a laugh.

“You’re blushing,” Mara says with a grin.

He shakes his head. “You seem to have that effect on me.”

Mara slips her hand into his on a whim, and he laces their fingers together immediately. They lapse into a comfortable silence, and Mara looks out the window. It’s odd, how normal everything looks. She feels like Kate’s disappearance should have made some sort of physical impression on this place, but nothing looks out of the ordinary.

Grant squeezes her hand, bringing her out of her thoughts.

“You okay?” he asks.

He’s looking at her with such sweet concern that it makes her smile softly. She squeezes back.

“Yeah. Just thinking about Kate.”

His concerned look shifts into a sad smile, and he holds her hand a little tighter until they get to the restaurant. It’s quaint, unassuming and nearly empty inside. As she looks at the menu, Mara says happily, “They have a Reese’s shake.”

Grant groans. “Mara.”

“What?” she asks, shooting him an innocent smile. “I’ll share.”

“We came here to get food,” he reminds her, but she sees him trying not to smile.

Mara shrugs. “It’s food. Ice cream. Chocolate. Peanut butter.”

She is actually hungry though, so she orders a burger and fries, and steals sweet potato fries off of Grant’s plate as they eat. He looks skeptical, but she convinces him to dip one of her fries into the shake and try it. Mara tells him about growing up in the Midwest and the culture shock of moving to New York, and he tells her more about growing up in Birchport.

A mildly horrified but amused expression crosses his face when she tells him about some of the lengths she’s gone to in order to get a good story, though he laughs when she teasingly tells him it’s a good thing she knows a lawyer now. When they’re done eating and head out of the restaurant, the sun is sinking low in the sky. Mara pauses outside his car before they get in, leaning against the passenger door.

“This was nice,” she says, breathing in the fresh air. “Getting away, clearing my head.”

She shoots him a grin. “The company was fantastic too.”

His eyes meet hers, and he smiles back, the corners of his mouth lifting up.

“It was,” he agrees.

Grant’s fingers brush her hip when he reaches for the door handle. He stops when he hears her quiet intake of breath, looking down at her. Waiting, she realizes, for her to set the tone. She really, really wants to lean in and kiss him. He’s been so helpful and friendly and genuinely nice. He takes her boldness and teasing in stride. It doesn’t hurt that she finds him really attractive.

Mara has never been afraid to make the first move, but the timing is anything but right. That, and, she admits to herself, she actually really likes Grant, as more than a passing flirtation. If it wasn’t for the awful circumstances they were here under, she thinks, this would seem like a date. She does lean into him, but rests her cheek on his chest instead of bringing her lips to his. His arms wrap warmly around her.

“I really want to kiss you,” she says openly. “But I feel like the timing is…”

“Less than ideal?” Grant suggests.

Mara nods, the fabric from his shirt soft against her skin. “Yes.”

She lifts her head up. Grant lets go of her with one arm and reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It is. I understand. I feel the same way,” he admits.

“And you know Kate would probably never forgive us if I couldn’t go and dish to her immediately,” Mara says with a hint of a smile as Grant gently runs his thumb over her cheekbone.

She knows it could be completely illogical, but she has to hope, has to believe, that they’ll find Kate, and that she can tell her all about the people in Birchport she’s managed to piss off, and these feelings Grant is bringing about. They can order more frilly unicorn drinks and actually catch up and Kate can tease her about how Grant is the exact opposite of the guys Mara usually likes.

Grant squeezes his arm around her in silent agreement, then opens the passenger door. As they drive off, their hands come together again automatically. His fingers laced with hers are the exact comfort and reassurance she’s been needing.

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