The reason Liam Grant sent clothes to Ethan was simple—Ethan had once risked himself to save Ava during the Blue Ridge expedition.
Liam didn't like owing people favors.
Back in the guest room, he sat beside Ava, pulled her into his arms, and simply held her—silent, unmoving.
That kind of quiet embrace always meant something was on his mind.
But he wouldn't say what, which left Ava feeling a little lost.
She reached up and gently touched his neck, then ran her fingers through his hair—thick, slightly coarse, still damp, with a faint scent of his shampoo. It suited him—tough on the outside, but softer behind closed doors.
Ever since her grandmother passed, he seemed different—warmer, more open, more affectionate.
He held her for a long time, unwilling to let go.
Ava finally asked softly, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Liam said, his voice low and steady. "Just felt like holding you."
She chuckled, teasing, "You like me that much? Gotta hug me any time, any place?"
