His throat tightened, the feeling she was poking at making him feel a little sick to his stomach. “I can’t. That’s not what this is between us. She’s not…”

“Oh my,” she said, deep lines appearing around her mouth and eureka in her voice. “I’ve read this all wrong, haven’t I?”

“Grace.”

Awareness was all over her face. “She’s the one I should be giving this talk to.”

He winced.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, her gaze not leaving his. “You’re the one who’s in love with her, aren’t you?”

The answer was there in his heart like a blinking neon sign. Bright and bold and obnoxious. It didn’t feel new. Maybe that feeling had never really gone away but had only been dimmed by the pain of losing her that first time. He closed his eyes, the realization crashing down on him like a landslide. Fuck.

“That’s not what this is,” he repeated, more to himself than to her.

Grace’s arms wrapped around him gently, the smell of her flowery perfume winding around him like a warm blanket. Her voice was low against his ear. “I should tell you to end things now before you get even more hurt. That would be the wise advice.”

He leaned back, catching her eye, confused.

She gave him a secret smile. “But I say fight.”

“Fight?”

“Yes.” She patted his shoulder. “Fight like hell for that girl.”

He stared at her, shocked. “Grace, I can’t. I’m not lying. That’s not what this is. No matter what I feel, I can’t force what’s not there. Kincaid has always seen me as a friend and friend only.”

“Oh, don’t give me that. You’re sleeping together. Which means she’s attracted to you.” She sniffed. “You know what romantic love is, Ashton?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “It’s a long-lasting deep friendship with common ground, respect, and hopefully, lots of really great sex.”

“Grace!” His ears went hot again.

She gave him a knowing grin. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t look so scandalized. All I’m saying is you two have all the ingredients there already. I just wonder what would happen if you’d stop giving up before you tried and really fought for her? Show her what you got, Ashton.”

His face had to be full red now. “Well, she’s seen all of that.”

Grace snorted. “That’s not what I mean. Although, good for you, honey!”

He put a hand over his face, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of discussing his sex life with his surrogate mother.

“I mean…” she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Woo the woman. Throw your best effort at her. Bring out all the stops.” She shrugged. “At least then if she’s still not interested, you know you’ve given it everything you’ve got. You can walk away with the kind of peace you get from knowing it truly wasn’t meant to be. You can move on.”

He stared at Grace. He’d been ready to dismiss her suggestions, but her words rippled through him with a hard shiver of truth. In all his time with Kincaid back then and now, he’d never openly pursued her. He was always careful, always holding his tongue, always staying in the friend role where he knew his place was secure. The most he’d done was the night he’d first slept with her, and even then, he hadn’t declared his feelings for her. And walking away, thinking about all the what-ifs had driven him crazy. What if he’d told her about his feelings before she dated Graham? What if she’d known it was him who’d written those love letters and not Graham? What if he’d shared his concerns about Graham early on? What if he’d been one hundred percent honest with her?