Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“And you, sir,” Gray says. “I’m sorry it couldn’t be under better circumstances.”
I flinch, shooting Gray a look.
“Excuse me?” Dad says.
“I just… ah, didn’t Callie tell you? Things didn’t, uh, work out between us.” I smile at how boyish Gray has suddenly become. Somehow, despite everything, he can still draw a smile out of me.
“Oh,” Dad mutters, taking a step back.
“It’s fine, Dad.”
“Callie said everything was going well,” Dad says. “She was bonding with… Emery, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir,” Gray says. “Callie is amazing at her job. She’s attentive, enthusiastic, and caring. She’s the best nanny I’ve ever had. It has nothing to do with her. It’s my ex—it’s a personal issue. I’m sorry, sir.”
Dad shakes his head slowly. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”
I swallow. Things are getting tense. “Honestly, Dad, it’s fine. Gray, shall we get the last of my things?”
In the hallway, Gray says. “I’m sorry. I thought he knew.”
“It’s fine,” I say.
Suddenly, Gray spins and grabs my shoulders. It’s like a burst of fiery longing is flaring through him. He leans down, staring into me—into me—like he can see all the confusion muddling my heart. “It’s not fine,” he growls. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We shouldn’t pretend we’ll be able to walk away.”
What am I thinking? I’m not, apparently, because I grip his shoulders and pull him in for a kiss. I press my body against him, feeling his heat burning through his clothes, like any second we’re both going to go up in flames. I only stop when I hear somebody coming up the stairs.
He takes a step back, shuddering, his face red with passion.
“What other choice do we have?” I say.
He grits his teeth, and it’s like I can see all the things he wants to say, all the madness he wants to offer. Maybe he’ll start using silly words like love and stepmom again.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
I almost slap him. Suddenly, I feel as if I’m on the verge of tears, but I manage to beat them back down and swallow the agony. It’s not fair of him to ask me that as if what I want is the only thing at stake here.
“Let’s just get the rest of my things,” I murmur, turning away.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gray
Sloane gestures at me from the corner table. She’s dressed up, wearing a tight dress and expensive jewelry on her ears, throat, and wrists. All it does is make me want to be with Callie, sit on my back porch and watch her in the yard with Emery, Callie wearing one of her simple summer dresses that draws out her natural beauty.
“Sloane,” I say tersely.
She smiles tightly. “You sound very happy to see me,” she says sarcastically.
“I’m just wondering what this is all about. You never want to meet.”
“Well, things could be better between us, couldn’t they? For Emery’s sake?”
“Yes, they could,” I agree.
She orders a glass of champagne. I order sparkling water. She looks a little annoyed that I’m not drinking, too, but she doesn’t say anything about it. My mood is in the gutter, a pit devouring any good feelings I could have. I can’t stop thinking about leaving Callie. No kiss. No hug. Just coldness, as if we’re strangers. Which we are… But I can’t convince myself of that.
“How are things with the nanny?”
“I let her go,” I tell Sloane.
“Oh?” Sloane can’t even hide her smile. It makes me sick. “Why?”
“Scheduling issues,” I lie. “So, why did you want to meet?”
Her eyes gleam hungrily as though she wants to ask about these so-called scheduling issues. Sloane rests her chin on her hands and says, “I want to be a bigger part of Emery’s life. But I don’t want things to get ugly in court.”
That sounds vaguely like a threat, but I don’t rise to it. “If we handle it correctly, I don’t see why you couldn’t see more of her. But you have to understand, she’s her own person. She’s not going to become your dream daughter on command. Or behave the way you want just like that.” I snap my fingers.
“I know,” Sloane snaps. “I never expected her to.”
She did, but I’m not going to point out the obvious. If she wants to play make-believe, then fine, let her. Goddamn, I’m in a vicious mood. I can’t stop thinking about the way Callie said goodbye, a croak in her voice. I wanted to turn back, grab her, kiss her again. But her father was standing at her side. It was probably for the best.
“We can discuss regular visits,” I say.
Sloane nods slowly. “Are you going to get a new nanny?”
“What does that have to do with your visits?”
She takes a long sip of champagne, then says, “I’m just asking…”
“I’m just asking a question, too,” I grit out. “I’d like an answer.”