After a short pause, Kira looked away and shrugged. “Well, okay, it’s your house.”
I took her through the rooms one by one and watched her reaction. This house had been a showpiece at one time, but signs of neglect were everywhere. Despite the now-sparse furnishings, Charlotte, being only one person, could hardly keep the whole thing spotless as it had once been. When I said as much, Kira looked at me and stated, “You grew up in a life of privilege.” I knew what she wasn’t saying: I had acted as if she was the only one who’d known luxury.
“Privilege isn’t only defined by material wealth, Kira. I grew up in a beautiful home with hired help, but I can assure you, I never lived a life of privilege. For all intents and purposes, I never had any parents at all.”
She tilted her head, confusion filling her expression. “What does that mean, Grayson?”
I shook my head. “The specifics of my family dynamics don’t matter. What does matter is that I’m used to hard work, and I won’t let a dollar of the money you’re so generously offering me go to waste. In fact, I’m considering the money you’re giving me a loan. Once the vineyard is bringing in a profit, I’ll pay you back.”
She was quiet for a moment. Finally, she simply nodded. “We don’t need to put that in the paperwork, but should you choose…” She waved her hand in the air as if I could do as I pleased on that front. Interesting. I wasn’t sure what to think of her response.
When we walked through the upstairs corridor, Kira stopped at the picture of my father and stepmother. “They’ve both passed?” she asked softly, glancing back at me.
“Only my father. My stepmother lives in San Francisco.”
She turned slowly toward me. “Does she have no interest in helping with the vineyard her husband loved? Or does she not have the financial means…？”
“She has plenty of money. My father left this vineyard to me. I won’t ask my stepmother for a dime of the money my father left her. We have no relationship and we never have.” I should have to tolerate you when your own mother couldn’t even be bothered? she’d asked me when I was twelve. I could still hear the cold words echoing through my head. “I’d rather…well, I’d rather marry a stranger for money before going to her for a loan.” I gave her a wry smile, but she didn’t smile back. “Anyway, the vow I’ve made is to my father. It’s for me to fulfill.”
She looked at me, tilting her head. “I understand vows, Grayson. I’ve made them too. I’ve vowed never again to depend upon my father.” She turned back to the photo and looked at it for another long minute.
“You must favor your mother,” she said, obviously noticing my father’s very light coloring.
“Yes, to everyone’s dismay,” I said. A constant reminder that I was an outsider and a burden. She glanced at me but didn’t question that cryptic remark. I wasn’t sure why I’d made it. I hardly wanted her questioning anything about my life.
She looked back to the wall of pictures, leaning closer to a photo. I studied her profile, the straight slope of her small nose, the gentle curve of her jaw, the feathery curl of her lashes, that long, silken hair falling around her face and down her back. “You have a brother,” she said, looking at the picture of Shane and me.
“Yes.”
“Does he live nearby?”
“No, he lives in San Diego.”
“Are you close?”
“I haven’t spoken to my brother in over five years.”
She turned to me again. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I said, my voice clipped as I led her away before she could ask any more intrusive questions. I was already feeling very uncomfortable with this tour. And I couldn’t blame her—it had been my own idea.
“Well, I’ll leave you with Charlotte. She’ll get you settled into a room. I’m going out,” I said dismissively once we’d descended the stairs.
She looked confused for a second. “Yes, okay, well, thanks. Have a good night.”
I nodded curtly and started to walk away, narrowing my eyes when I heard her humming. I turned back and walked toward her. “Are you humming ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’？”
Her eyes blinked, looking big and innocent. A clear act. “Is that what that song is? I never knew the name or who exactly lived in Honahlee, just the tune mostly.”
I glared down at her for several long moments. She held eye contact with me, that little chin tipped up. The air buzzed, pinpricks of awareness hitting my skin. Finally, finished with her little game, I turned away again, leaving her standing alone in my front foyer.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kira
God, that dragon ran hot and cold. As reptiles tended to do, I supposed. I almost preferred the fire he shot at me to the icy act he put on when he was finished with a certain topic of conversation, or when he looked at me with frigid disdain. I wasn’t precisely sure how I knew the iciness was an act, but I did. Deep down, he was all dragon—barely contained heat…and probably passion too. I shivered. I would not think of Grayson Hawthorn in those terms. I would only get burned. He had spelled it out for me himself. I was not his “type,” whatever that might be.
I took a deep breath, my eyes lingering on the words carved ornately into the stone above the doorway: In Vino Veritas. I’d have to look that up. I went back to the kitchen, where I found Charlotte still wiping down the counters. She looked up and offered me a smile—a much warmer greeting than she’d given me earlier tonight.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Oh, sure.” I smiled. “But only if you’ll join me?”
Charlotte hesitated but then nodded. I sat down on a barstool at the counter while she poured two cups and then placed one in front of me with cream and sugar, put a pie dish and two plates with utensils next to her, and sat down with her own mug.
“Grayson went out,” I said, taking a sip of coffee.
Her lips came together in a straight line. “Yes, so I heard. Salted caramel pie?” she asked, cutting a huge piece and plopping it on a plate.
“Oh, um, okay.” I hesitated as she slid the plate in front of me, the delicious smells of caramel and sweet cream wafting to my nose. “I know this situation probably seems…” I shook my head, at a loss for a word other than ridiculous, inadvisable, disastrous.
Immoral.
“Unusual” was the word I finally uttered to Charlotte.
“Yes, it does,” she said, cutting her own slice of pie. Despite her agreement, she smiled. “I had hoped for more for Gray. No offense to you. You seem like a spirited girl. I just…I hoped he’d marry for love, of course.”
“Of course.” I couldn’t help blushing. I hoped to marry for love someday too. “You care for him very much.” I took a bite of pie, the sweet and salty flavors bursting across my tongue. I tried not to let my eyes roll to the back of my head. God that’s good.
“Very much. I’ve been working here since Gray was first dropped off—” She seemed to catch herself. “That is, since Gray came to live here.”