The Kiss That Launched 1,000 Gifs by Sheralyn Pratt Page B

inches shorter than Ashton. Next to Phillip, Traci would look like a petite woman. Next to Ashton, Traci would look like a babysitting responsibility.
    No, no, and no. Just… no! There was no planet on which Ashton and Traci should date.
    “Grace?” she heard Ashton say softly, and only then did Grace realize she’d been staring at her computer monitor without really doing anything.
    “I don’t think I can do this today,” she heard herself say.
    The moment the words left her mouth, she knew they were true. She’d been sleepwalking all day and no one had called her out on it. But Ashton could and he would. And that wasn’t what she needed.
    As much as it killed Grace’s pride to admit, she was done for the day.
    When she looked at Ashton, all she saw was a broad chest that was perfect for a crash landing and strong arms that could wrap around her and hold her with ease after she made impact. If she duct taped his mouth shut and closed her eyes, she could forget he was a coworker she had always fought to keep at arm’s distance, and finally learn how it would feel to have those arms wrapped around her.
    In her mind, Grace could already feel one hand at the small of her back while the other stroked her hair. He would be warm and firm as he—
    Grace blinked back to the reality where Ashton stood several feet away with a concerned look on his face.
    “Grace?” he asked. “Are you okay?”
    No. She was not.
    Turning to her mic, she glanced at the two-way glass and was happy to see Frank on the other side. She clicked her mic on. “Frank, if I were to tell you that I can’t do today’s show, what would your response be?”
    “I, um… wait a sec,” he said, then picked up the phone on his side. The silence on side of the glass with Ashton was heavy for about thirty seconds before Frank flipped his mic back on.
    “I’d say you’re due a sick day,” Frank said into the mic. “Go for it. As miracles would have it, Layla is available to fill in.”
    Grace blinked in surprise. “Layla? From The Morning Show?”
    “The very same,” Frank said. “She’s headed up now. Ashton can cover until she gets here. You’re good to go.”
    Part of Grace was unnerved by how quickly her shoes had been filled, but one more glance at Ashton made her certain she’d made the right choice. One part of her brain told her that she had two hours of work left to do on a Friday. She just needed to buck up and plow through. But another part of her took one look at Ashton and wanted to…
    Yeah, she needed to go.
    “Thanks, Frank. This means a lot.” Then Grace tore out of the room and didn’t look back.
     
     
     

Esme let herself in the front door, which was a good thing since Grace had no intention of getting up off of the couch.
    “I come bearing Mercer’s,” Esme called out before the door was shut behind her. “All of the red flavors.”
    Wine ice cream. If ever there was a perfect day for it, this was it. Grace’s life may have just hit a low point, but at least she still had friends with taste.
    “My butt’s on the couch,” she called back. “And it’s not moving.”
    When Esme stepped into the room, Grace was happy to see that her high maintenance friend hadn’t come straight from work. She’d gone home and changed first, trading out her work dress for yoga pants. The bag she carried looked like it held more than ice cream.
    “We’ve got Chocolate Cabernet,” Esme said, pulling out the first pint. “Along with Cherry Merlot, Port, and Spice.”
    “You are a hero,” Grace said, reaching for the chocolate.
    Esme took a slow breath and looked her over. “So it’s true? You and Phillip?”
    Grace nodded. “Yep. Who told you?”
    “Well, it should have been you,” Esme said. “I shouldn’t be hearing things like this from anyone else.”
    “It felt like a dream,” Grace said, enjoying the too-cold feeling of the ice cream carton in her hand. “Last night… all of today… I almost texted Phillip