Grayson's Vow (70)

Shane sat down on the edge of the fountain and inclined his head, silently asking if I’d like to sit too. I walked the few steps and took a seat, turning and facing him. He tilted his head. “Can I ask how much you know about the situation with Vanessa, Gray, and me?”

So we were going to cut right to the chase. “Not much,” I answered honestly. “Just that Grayson and Vanessa were…together, and you and Vanessa got married while he was in prison.”

He offered a slow nod. “And that, naturally, he feels betrayed by us.”

I nodded, my eyes trained on his face, trying to read his expression. If I had to assign any name to the emotion that seemed to cross over his features, I’d pick deep sadness, maybe even grief. “Naturally,” I murmured.

“There’s more to it than that,” he said. “I love my brother, Kira.”

I studied him and found that I believed him. His expression was so somber. “Then why?” I asked.

Shane exhaled a deep breath. “I really owe it to Grayson to explain first. I realize we’ve put you in an awkward situation—and with no warning. I just wanted you to know we’ve tried everything.” He shook his head. “He won’t answer letters, won’t take phone calls. The only thing we haven’t done is strap him to a chair with duct tape and force him to listen to us.”

I laughed without much humor. “You might want to consider it. I find the Dragon especially stubborn. I don’t see him giving in easily.”

Shane squinted at me, smiling with amusement. “The Dragon? Is that what you call him?”

“Only when he breathes fire and goes flapping around the house.”

“Flapping around the house.” Shane’s grin broadened. “Charlotte said as much, but I could hardly believe it about my serious, detached brother. Then I saw him sliding down the banister like the child he never was…”

“Oh, that? We were just settling a bet.”

Shane squinted at me. “I think you’re good for him. And I had hoped he would be more willing to listen to us now that he’s found happiness with you.”

My face flushed, and I hoped Shane didn’t notice. “Well, he didn’t kick you out anyway, right? That’s a start.”

“Yes, that’s a start.” Shane stood up, offering me his hand. “Charlotte and Walter are having dinner with friends. She put something in the oven and it’s just about time to take it out. Join me for dinner?”

I took his hand and stood up. “Sure.”

We went inside and he took Charlotte’s stuffed chicken out of the oven and I mixed up a small salad. We sat and ate together as Shane told me about the software business he’d started in San Diego. It sounded like he loved it, and it allowed him to work from home as well.

“So you had no interest in making wine?” I asked, taking a bite of salad.

He shook his head. “No interest and no skill. Computer technology has always been my thing. When my father left me a little chunk of money, I used it to start my own firm.”

I nodded. “Well, luckily your brother did want to make wine.”

Something crossed over his face that I couldn’t read, but he quickly covered it with a small smile. “Yes, luckily.”

I told him a little bit about myself, skirting around the fact that I was estranged from my father—it would only invite questions that I didn’t feel up to answering. Once we’d eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, I told him I was going to head to my room and read since it’d been a long day and I was tired. More truthfully, though, I was nervous he was going to start asking questions about Grayson and me that I wasn’t prepared to answer.

After getting ready for bed, I decided to send Grayson a quick text. I had felt like we were building something between us, though I refused to try to define it at this point. Surely he was upset and vulnerable right now with the unexpected arrival of his brother and ex-girlfriend. Perhaps he could use a friend. I grabbed my phone and typed in: Are you okay?—K

I waited several minutes, but when there was no response, I picked up my book and tried to focus on the story I’d been reading. When Grayson still hadn’t responded to my message an hour later, I turned off the light and hugged my pillow, closing my eyes and trying desperately to will myself to sleep despite the early hour.



* * *



I came awake with a start, the feel of strong arms lifting me out of bed. I struggled, kicking out with my legs and flailing my arms until the person holding me let out a loud, “oomph,” dropping me on the soft bed and coming down next to me. My eyes met Grayson’s in the semidarkness, his expression pained as if I’d made contact with something vulnerable.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, coming up on my knees. I could feel my hair a wild mess all around my face and down my back. He rolled to his side and lay looking up at me, his head on my pillow, his eyes dreamy looking.

“You were supposed to be in my bed tonight,” he slurred.

“Your bed?” I asked. “You expected me to…” I leaned in, inhaling. “You smell like liquor and cheap perfume.” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice. He was likely too drunk to notice anyway.

Grayson came up on one elbow. “Some blond was all over me at the bar.”

“Oh.” What was I supposed to say to that? I fisted my hands on the tops of my thighs. His ex shows up so he goes to a bar and lets a stranger grope him? Why couldn’t you have come to me, Grayson?