Grayson's Vow (84)

The costumes were wonderful, some no more than beautiful masks combined with evening wear, and others entire creations from head to toe.

Once I had a moment to take a break, I took a glass of champagne off a passing tray and stood back to admire all the hard work I’d participated in. Everyone looked like they were having a great time, and if the admiring looks on everyone’s faces as they glanced around were any indication, Hawthorn Vineyard had impressed them. Hopefully they’d spread the word in town that Grayson had been welcoming and hospitable and his home was beautifully inviting. This place was not in shambles as the gossip indicated. On the contrary, his home sent the message there was every reason to believe the vineyard itself was on the rise under Grayson’s management. Who didn’t like a good comeback story? Who wouldn’t wish to be part of one? That was my hope, and the point of the party.

I glanced around for Grayson and saw him among a group of guests, one of whom I recognized as Diane Fernsby, and they were laughing and obviously entertained by something he was telling them. He looked up and caught my eye, shooting me a smile. It was the expression in his eyes that made my breath catch though. That dragonish smile. It will be my undoing.

My attention was snagged by Harley, dressed as the Beast, and Priscilla dressed as a punked-out version of Beauty. I hugged them both, delighted to see them. Harley had begun working at the vineyard, which was wonderful. Despite his internal and external scars, he was such a good, kind man. I was so glad Grayson had someone like him. I spent a few minutes chatting with them and getting to know Priscilla better, and then moved off to mingle with the other guests.

I greeted Virgil, dressed as Aladdin, and chatted with José and his wife—dressed as the Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood—for a short time before excusing myself to make sure everything was going well outside.

The outdoor patio was awash in the glow of candlelight, guests milling around the pool, the sounds of laughter mingling with a new song the band had just begun to play. I stood for a moment, observing. There hadn’t been a moment to talk more with Grayson, and I couldn’t wait to get him alone. The night had been a whirlwind so far though, and despite my impatience, I was very satisfied with the way the party was going.

“May I have this dance?”

I whirled around at the feel of a warm body behind mine, the whisper of breath on my bare shoulder. A beautiful dragon was grinning down at me, his hand held up to take my own. “I just realized I haven’t danced with my wife yet…or ever, for that matter.” I let out a small breathy laugh and took his hand as he led me to the middle of the dance floor. I recognized the song from the movie Enchanted, although I couldn’t have named it.

“I didn’t realize dragons could dance.”

He pulled me into his arms and began to lead. Leaning close to my ear, he whispered, “Oh yes. People assume we’re cumbersome, but it isn’t true. It’s a little known fact—dancing with a dragon is like dancing with firelight.” And then he spun me around. My heart leapt and I laughed out loud, my hair flying out behind me. He spun me back the other way as he grinned, and as silly as it might have sounded, I felt as if I was glowing. And I knew for sure I loved him. I was in love with my husband. Which might be tragic, but God, I hoped it wasn’t.

We slowed then; I was lost in the music and the sway of his body against mine. I wanted to ask him so many things, needed to hear him say the words I thought I saw reflected in his eyes, but I needed to be alone with him. I needed the moment to be just about us. I was still nervous and grappling with how quickly things had changed—I’d been prepared to say goodbye to him tonight, and now…and now there was a whisper of hope, even if I was almost afraid to dream.

The song ended and I stepped away slowly, unable to take my eyes off my husband as he gazed down at me as well, something in his expression I’d never seen before. He reached up, as if to touch my cheek, when we suddenly heard applause. I looked around and saw that we were the only ones on the dance floor and that the guests were clapping as if we’d just performed for them. I laughed, warmth rising in my cheeks as I gave a small curtsy and Grayson bowed, looking just a bit embarrassed too.

A woman approached us, walking with the slightest of limps, a kind smile on her face. “That was lovely,” she said, reaching out her hand. I took it in my own. “I’m Virgil’s mother, Trudy Potter.”

“Oh!” I said. “So nice to meet you. Virgil’s become part of the family here. We all love him.”

She let out a breath, looking teary as she shook Grayson’s hand. “I won’t keep you, but I”—she breathed in sharply as if trying not to cry—“just wanted to thank you, Mr. Hawthorn.” Her words ended on a whisper.

“You’re welcome,” Grayson said softly.

She nodded at him and turned, disappearing into the crowd.

“I only gave the man a job,” he murmured as though her appreciation had been excessive. But I could tell that to Trudy Potter, the word only didn’t begin to encompass it. What Grayson had given her son was a chance.

Suddenly, off to my right, I heard the soft clap of a singular person approaching us and turned, my smile fading as my heart stuttered. Grayson grasped my hand.

“Hello, Kira,” my father said.

I eyed him warily, looking around quickly to make sure no one nearby could hear us. He was standing in shadow and apparently no one had recognized him as of yet. Not that it would be peculiar, I supposed, for my father to be at a party I was hosting, but I certainly didn’t want him to stay. “What in the hell are you doing here?” I hissed.