Straining under the ludicrously heavy box in his arms, Marcus led his gran and her travel companion into her new apartment right across the hall from his. With immense relief, he lowered the box of bricks to the floor of her new living room, and Brianna easily placed the box labeled as linen beside it.
“Thank you, Brianna,” Marcus’s gran said to the woman who’d apparently been such a huge help during the moving process―she had helped his gran pack up her New York apartment and had driven her to Boston even though Marcus had planned to do that all himself.
“It’s a pleasure,” Marcus’s ex-girlfriend replied with a broad grin. “But I think Marcus is the one who should be getting the credit,” she added with a throaty laugh.
Marcus might have considered the laugh nothing had Brianna not the
