Grayson's Vow (30)
“And by the way, my dear,” Charlotte said, resting her hand on mine on the counter, a glint in her eyes, “forget the prince and princess. I always imagined the most interesting story was between the witch and the dragon.” Her musical laughter rang through the kitchen.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kira
I hadn’t envisioned my wedding day quite like this. I’d awoken alone, taken an icy shower, and then quickly left the Hawthorn property for downtown Napa to buy something to wear. But once I’d started browsing in a few shops, I’d realized how ridiculous it was. Why did I need a new outfit? And what did one wear to say false wedding vows to the man they were marrying for money? The man who most likely hated me after what had happened the day before.
I pulled in a deep breath. Still, I was going to go through with it. I’d made up my mind as I lay in bed the night before, thinking about my own reasons for needing the money Gram had left me and thinking about Grayson’s reasons as well. After what Charlotte had shared, I couldn’t help feeling like we had even more in common than either of us understood. And perhaps we’d never know the full extent, but somewhere deep down, I felt an inexplicable peace about sharing the money with him, dragon or not.
I finally picked out a semicasual, white lace sundress and a pair of silvery-blue strappy sandals. It wasn’t fancy, but at least it would appear that I’d put some effort into looking like a bride to the people at the clerk’s office. It’s all about the show, I thought sadly.
As I drove back to Hawthorn Vineyard, a memory suddenly came into my mind. When I was seven or eight, I’d found my gram’s collection of catalogues and old magazines. One of them had bridal gowns in it so I’d cut out all my choices for an entire wedding party and glued them to a piece of cardboard. I’d spent hours going through each book, picking out flowers and cakes and whatever else I could find that added to my vision. When I’d proudly shown my gram, she had gushed over it, of course, as my gram tended to do, but then she’d asked me why there was no father of the bride. “Oh,” I’d said, “he was working. He couldn’t make it.” My gram had looked at me so sadly and then hugged me tightly. “You are going to be the most beautiful bride, my love,” she’d said, “and your groom is going to love you to pieces.”
I felt a lump form in my chest. “Oh, Gram, I’m so sorry about this,” I whispered into the silence of my car, feeling like even though she was gone, I was somehow disappointing her.
Just as I was finishing getting dressed, I heard a soft knock on my cottage door and startled slightly, wondering if Grayson had come to get me rather than meeting at the house where we’d planned. Or maybe he was coming to call it off? My heart took up an erratic beat as I called, “Come in.”
A moment later I heard Charlotte’s singsong greeting and I relaxed my shoulders. She smiled as she entered my room. “Oh my, you look lovely, dear.”
I gave her a small smile, fidgeting slightly. I hardly wanted her to make this seem as if it were in any way a real wedding day. It would only add to my shame.
“I brought you a little something for good luck,” she said, holding open her palm to show a small silver and crystal pin in the shape of a rose.
“Oh, no, Charlotte. I couldn’t. This marriage doesn’t require any luck. We already set it up to fail,” I said, my cheeks heating.
“Well, then, it’s good luck for you,” she said. “Please, let me. My mother gave this to me on my wedding day and I don’t have a daughter to give it to, nor will I have any granddaughters. It would mean the world to me if you would accept it.”
“I really couldn’t,” I squeaked, trying not to tear up.
“How about just for today?” She smiled hopefully. “You can give it back if you want.” She clapped her hands. “Oh, that works too. Something borrowed.”
I let out a breath. “Okay. Only if you’ll let me return it.”
“Here,” she said, leaning in and pinning it to the bodice of my dress. She leaned away and smiled gently. “Lovely.”
Not able to help it, I threw my arms around Charlotte, inhaling the calming scent of talcum powder. She laughed softly and hugged me back. “Now then,” she said gently.
At two o’clock I walked up to the main house where Grayson was leaning casually against the stone front. He was wearing a pair of khakis and a blue button-down shirt. I tried not to note how strikingly handsome he was—it served no good purpose. When he heard me approaching, he looked up and I caught a brief flicker of surprise in his eyes, and then it was gone.
“Ready?” he said simply, making no comment about how I looked.
Neither of us spoke for the first five minutes of the ride in his truck. I finally turned to him and his gaze was on my bare legs. I crossed them and his eyes flew to mine. He clenched his jaw. Did he disapprove of my outfit for some reason?
“Grayson, I’m…I’m sorry about your father’s bottle of wine.”
His shoulders seemed to release just a bit as he stared out the front windshield. “It wasn’t entirely your fault. You couldn’t have known that such a valuable bottle of wine would be sitting in the living room. And I did push you to that point, I admit. I’m not innocent for teasing you about your…list. I’m sorry too.”