As Hailey took a seat next to Fiona on one of the love seats, an older man shuffled out of the house. His stark white hair looked like he’d stuck a knife in a socket. He was mumbling to himself before he reached the porch.
“Damn kids can’t buy any regular beer. What the hell happened to Budweiser?” He looked at Noah with a deep frown marring his weathered face.
Noah smiled. “Live a little, man. It tastes good.”
“Tastes like piss,” he said, dropping into a chair. He did a slight double take when he saw Fiona and Hailey. “Where’d these two come from? None of you are good-looking enough to be surrounded by all these beautiful women.”
Grace walked over to the man, put a hand on his shoulder. “This is Morty. He’s like a great-great-grandfather to me.” Her lips twitched.
“Brat. I’m barely old enough to be a father figure to you. You’re getting up there yourself.”
Laughing, Grace winked at them. “Please excuse him, he’s using getting old as a chance to be miserable. He can be quite charming when he wants.”
“Damn right I can be.” He worked up a smile, aimed it at Hailey and Fiona and to her relief, everyone else laughed. If they hadn’t, she would have had to muffle her own out of politeness.
Grace leaned over to say something in Morty’s ear but they all heard it. “Behave or I’m telling Tilly.”
They didn’t hear his response but Hailey could guess.
She couldn’t stem her curiosity. “What’s Home and Heart?”
Grace and Noah shared a look that expressed a combination of love and affection. She might not have had those with her exes but she still believed they were out there, somewhere, waiting for her.
Grace clasped Noah’s hand. “It’s a magazine. Noah is a real estate developer. He bought this place intending to remodel it. He tried to buy mine as well,” she said with a teasing smirk. “So he could put in a pool.”
Hailey glanced toward the poles in the yard and pointed. “That’s going to be a pool? Wait, is that your place?”
Grace nodded. “Yes. We’re using it as my office. I’m an interior designer. Noah’s supposedly a big deal in some circles so he was able to wrangle a fancy magazine to cover the remodel.”
Noah put his arm around Grace, pulled her close. “Best thing to come out of it was Gracie fell head over heels in love with me.”
Chris picked up his beer with the hand that wasn’t holding Everly’s. “None of us can figure out why.”
Everyone but Noah laughed. Morty took a drink of his not-Budweiser, making a face. “Definitely not because of his taste in beer.”
“Shut it, old man, or I’ll feed you Tara’s veggie burgers.”
“Wait. I read some other articles after the ones on this remodel,” Fiona said. Her gaze grew wide, then she looked at Hailey, whose heart started knocking around her rib cage. “Do you know you’re in the presence of New York royalty?”
All three of the men scoffed and balked, loudly, at this proclamation. Grace rolled her eyes and Morty mumbled under his breath.
Stacey set her bottle on the table beside her, looking at Chris. “Maybe royal pains in the ass.”
“Still your boss, Stace,” Chris said blandly. The connections between them were harder to keep track of than who dated who in Hollywood. Wes needed to make her a guidebook for this.
“Somebody tell me what I’m missing.” She looked at Wes. Should she have googled him?
Noah set his beer down on the edge of the fire table that sat between the seats. “My brothers and I used to work for our father. Pretty much doing a lot of what we do now but under his thumb. And judgment. We buy into companies, sell companies, or improve them. We each have our own skill sets and we got tired of our dad taking them for granted. Chris came here to jump through one of our dad’s hoops, met Everly, fell in love. I followed.”
“And fell in love,” Grace said, squeezing his hand.
Fiona raised her hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring anything bad up. I just made the connection and remember being super impressed with all of you. I was caught off guard but I shouldn’t have blurted it all out like that.”
“No harm. Don’t worry about it. You certainly don’t have to apologize,” Chris said.
“No, I do. That was a total lack of social grace. Also, while we’re sharing, I’m a freelance writer.”
Both brothers looked at Wes, whose gaze widened. “Oh.”