by L. A. Fiore
“Well?”
“I don’t know. That is my earlier work and there are many who would love to get their hands on it.”
What nonsense was that? “I’m not just anyone, pal.”
“True, but still. I’ve been instructed by my very competent legal team that I really shouldn’t let anyone outside of the family see it.”
I glared at him. “Really?”
He then stretched his long legs out in front of him—lucky for him we were in first class—and pulled his hands behind his head. “Yup.”
I just wanted to look at the damn book; you’d think he’d be a bit more accommodating.
“There is a way, though, Alexis.” He turned serious. “Marry me.”
I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. Maybe the plane just nose-dived and the lack of oxygen was causing a hallucination.
“Alexis.” A grin pulled at his mouth. “You’re thinking you’re having an hallucination, aren’t you?”
“Are you serious?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather black box. He opened it to reveal an emerald-cut diamond, a huge emerald cut diamond. “Marry me.”
Some could argue we were rushing, but we weren’t. We’d been working toward this since that very first day. I wanted to remember every part of this moment so I could tell it to our kids and grandkids.
“Alexis?”
“You just asked me to marry you.”
“Yes, and you didn’t answer.”
Despite his words, he didn’t look overly worried, as sure of us as I was, so I teased him. “Do I get to look at the spiral ring?”
His expression went blank for a second before he howled with laughter. Love shined in his eyes. “Yes.”
I grabbed his face and kissed him. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
For a second or two we silently acknowledged the beauty of the moment before he slipped his ring onto my finger.
Greyson
Alexis was sleeping, her hand in mine. I played with the ring on her finger. If she only knew how long I had been holding on to it. My first commission was used to buy it. I’d carried it around for six years knowing one day it would sit on her finger.
I wanted to paint her. Naked, looking at me like she had earlier when she said yes. I wasn’t sure how she’d feel having her body on display on our walls, but maybe for our bedroom she’d be okay with it.
I was looking forward to seeing Paige, Grant and the girls, was itching to see Ireland again and my grandfather. Wanted to share my home with Alexis, my past. I had my mother’s diary. Having watched Alexis at her own mother’s grave, I decided to give Mom’s diary to her. For a woman like Alexis, words had the most meaning. I wanted her to know my mom and how better than from her own writings. I’d find the right moment to give it to her.
I ran a finger over the stone. She’d said yes. I didn’t doubt it for a second. Pressing a kiss on her ring, I let myself follow her into sleep.
Alexis
Paige and Grant met us at the airport. The girls were spending the day with the Bakers. Now that Mel and Dee were retired they often watched the girls because they just adored them, and having no children of their own, they loved the opportunity to act like grandparents.
As soon as I saw Paige, I pulled from Greyson and ran to her. We hugged; tears fell freely. I heard Grant and Greyson saying hello but we were talking at once and though we understood everything the other said, the men were left scratching their heads. I didn’t even get to show off my ring. Paige’s eyes narrowed in on the sparkling rock on my finger. She stared at it a moment before she said, “Ah, what, oh, wow.” And then we were hugging again.
It wasn’t until we were settled at the diner, in the booth Greyson always sat in, that Paige took my hands from across the table and asked, “Talk to me about your parents?”
They say time heals all wounds, and I was healing, though I wasn’t sure if it was time or Greyson. I suspected the latter. “First, I have to say I’ve been very fortunate. I have you, Grant and the girls, the Cantenellis, Mel and Dee…” I glanced to my side. “Greyson.” Love looked back. Turning to Paige I added, “I had a very full and happy childhood, but I’m still struggling with my mom’s death.” Just talking about it caused a lump in my throat. “But I hurt less knowing they loved me.”
“Of course they loved you. How could they not?” Paige wiped at her eyes.
“You’re biased.” And I loved that she was.
“Maybe, but she isn’t wrong,” Grant added.
I was so lucky I found them, but I needed to change the subject before I started crying. “How does it feel being diner owners?”
Paige squeezed my hands before releasing them and settled back in the booth. “Amazing because I don’t have to wait tables anymore.”
“You still do though, don’t you?”
She flashed me a grin. Yeah, she did.
“How’s the motorcycle business?”
“It’s thriving; there’s been a resurgence of interest in owning motorcycles. What about you, Greyson? I have to say it’s a little weird sitting across from the kid I knew now a man who has appeared on the cover of magazines. Did Mark Hamill really buy one of your paintings?”
“Wait! What? Why didn’t I know that?” I turned in my seat to face Greyson. “Luke Skywalker bought one of your paintings?”
“Yes. I’m surprised that story is out already. I just signed the deal a few days ago and he only confirmed last night. I was waiting for it to be a done deal before I mentioned it.” Greyson turned back to Grant. “How did you hear about it?”
“We have a resident Greyson groupie. Stephanie Peck. Do you remember her?” Paige asked.
Greyson and I both had the same reaction as we mouthed an O. Stephanie was his first groupie.
“What’s she doing now?”
“Besides tracking Greyson’s every move? She runs the florist.”
“Is she married?”
“No, I think she’s holding out for Greyson,” Paige teased as her gaze lowered to my ring. “She’s going to be very disappointed when word of that gets around.”
That was mildly unnerving that Stephanie had held a torch for Greyson for so long, but then so had I. I was just lucky enough to be the one he held a torch for too.
The door to the diner opened as three young ladies came barreling through. I had seen them not even a year ago and still they had grown. Tara was now eleven, Mandy ten and little Heather was four. They raced toward our table until they saw Greyson. It was like a comic strip, how Tara stopped, causing Mandy and Heather to slam into her back.
“Why’d you stop?” Heather demanded.
I climbed from the booth and held out my arms. Greyson was temporarily forgotten as I was wrapped with six limbs. Tara was almost as tall as me. She totally took after Grant. Heather on the other hand was all Paige, and Mandy was a happy blend.
When we detangled, I gestured to Greyson. “You remember Greyson.”
He had moved from the booth and like he had done all those years ago, he kissed each of their hands. Tara was at an age that her face went red, her eyes grew wide with puppy love. Mandy too, shifted on her feet, embarrassed yet in love, looking up at Greyson through her lashes. Heather on the other hand, climbed him like a tree; took his face into her little hands and stared for so long it got awkward. She then said with the authority of a four year old, “You’re pretty.”
It was late; Paige and family were asleep when Greyson and I snuck out.
“Where do you want to go first?”
“Let’s go see your house.”
“You really like that house.”
“I always saw us there, married, kids, you painting the view.”
He yanked me close. “I always saw that too.”
After spying on the house, we headed to our bluff. It was late, dark and secluded so when Greyson lifted my shirt to cup my breasts, I moved into his touch. I worked on his zipper; he undid my bra and sucked my breast into h
is mouth. I stroked him from base to tip. He responded by biting my nipple, then sucking me deeper into his mouth. I wanted him inside me. He was thinking the same when he dragged me to the ground and yanked off my jeans and panties. He lifted my hips and sank in deep. I watched him as he watched me. The gentle shifting of his hips, in and out, creating the friction that turned gentle to frenzied. He swallowed my scream when I came with a kiss and I returned the favor.
He curled into me and kissed my neck. “Life coming full circle. I wanted you to be mine then, now you are.”
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I drew him closer. “I always was.”
Ireland. We landed in Dublin then took a smaller aircraft to the Kerry Airport. Greyson’s car was waiting at the airport. We drove along curving roads surrounded by green hills. Before long we were pulling through the gates of Greyson’s ancestral home: Taisce Manor.
I knew he lived in a castle, I saw the drawing of it, but seeing it was an experience. It was beautiful, huge and very old. The tower, the keep at one time, dated back to medieval times. Medieval times, it boggled the mind that this structure had been around for so long. The gardens were sleeping, but I bet they were gorgeous in full bloom.
“It’s beautiful, Greyson. All of this land belongs to your family?”
“Yes.”
“It’s wonderful to see it so preserved. I’m sure it has modern updates like plumbing and electricity…” I stopped talking because I didn’t actually know if the place did have modern conveniences. “It does have electricity and plumbing, right?”
Greyson spared me a look, despite the fact that he was driving, and smiled, “Yes.”
No electricity I could handle. No plumbing, no way. Call me a hothouse flower, but peeing in a hole in the ground. Nope. I looked around at the grounds; the vast open landscape seemingly untouched by humans. It was incredible. “You can forget that we’re in the twenty-first century, it’s almost as if we stepped back in time. It doesn’t seem right for there to be cars, it spoils the illusion. I’m thinking brawny men, with long hair, wearing kilts and riding warhorses is more appropriate.” I glanced over at Greyson. “You know, you could—”
I didn’t get to finish that statement before Greyson said, and quite emphatically, “No kilt, I’m Irish not a bloody Scot.”
I looked away to hide my smile. “Pity, I bet you’d be sexy as hell in a kilt.”
We drove through an archway to find Callum waiting, but it was the line of people behind him that had my jaw dropping. Twenty women in pale gray dresses and at least the same number of men in black suits.
Greyson answered my unasked question. “It’s tradition for the household staff to greet a returning member of the family.”
It was the first time since knowing Greyson that I felt inadequate, and not physically like I had when we were younger, but socially. I didn’t mind his celebrity because I had known him before he became a rising star, but what I hadn’t appreciated was where Greyson came from. I knew he lived in a castle in Ireland and that his ancestry dated back centuries, but I didn’t really get what that meant until seeing the massive staff standing in front of a magnificent castle waiting for their young master to return. Talk about different social circles.
I didn’t get to fret on the staggering differences in Greyson and my backgrounds because as soon as the car stopped, my door opened and I was pulled into a hard hug.
“What a joy to see you again, Alexis. I want to know everything you’ve been up to but that can wait. You must be exhausted.” Callum saw the ring. His eyes lifted. “Greyson told me. Congratulations.”
I could only smile in reply because I still got emotional thinking about Greyson and me being engaged. I studied Callum. It had been six years and he looked just the same. Remembering his fall, I asked, “How are you? You look wonderful.”
“I’m doing very well. As healthy as a horse.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
“Would you like to nap, eat or take a tour?”
“A tour sounds great.”
“Food sounds better.” Greyson winked before he added, “Let’s give the lady the tour, Grandfather, and then we can eat.”
Before we started the tour we stopped in front of the staff. I thought he was giving them a chance to say hello to Greyson. I was wrong. “I’d like to introduce you to the future lady of the manor, Greyson’s fiancée, Alexis Owens.”
My eyes flew to him, then the clapping started, a thunderous applause for someone they knew nothing about. That hole in my heart filled in more.
“Alexis, this is William, Nigel and Maggie.”
I got a little emotional remembering the beautiful Mont Blanc pen they had sent me for my graduation gift. I’d christened the pen writing their thank you notes. I was never without it. “It is so nice to meet you.” I wasn’t sure of the protocol, at home I would have hugged Maggie, but it was all so formal here. I offered her my hand instead; she ignored my hand and yanked me into her arms.
William was more reserved, his handshake a bit stiff. Nigel, on the other hand, was quite affable when he covered our joined hands with his free one. “Lovely to meet you, Miss Owens.”
“All right, let me show you around,” Callum said.
We walked over the threshold and that feeling of going back in time washed over me again. The foyer was massive, the ceilings at least twenty feet high, but it was the age and history of the place that held me captive. Greyson’s ancestors had walked these halls; it had survived plagues, famine and wars. It was the link that tied Greyson, the last of the Ratcliffes, to the Aenfinn, the very first of them. And more extraordinary, everyone in between had walked these halls.
The walls were painted an aged cream and the floors were a beautiful dark mahogany. There was a large round pedestal table in the center of the foyer; the sight brought a smile. A vase of fresh cut flowers rested atop it. I wondered if that was the selling point for the apartment when Greyson saw a touch of home. This vase was an antique Waterford…an heirloom. Hanging over the table, from the high ceiling, was a crystal chandelier that looked to be raining diamonds. Callum led me from the foyer into a drawing room that was filled with old paintings and several pieces I recognized as Greyson’s. I wanted to study his earlier work and would be coming back to do just that. The furniture was done in rich, deep-toned fabrics, and there was a concert grand piano sitting in the corner, but the room was so large that the massive instrument actually looked small. The fireplace was like nothing I’d ever seen. It was huge, walk in and cook yourself huge.
The dining room looked more like a ballroom in size. The table sat thirty, but it was lost in the space. Dark green walls showcased large oil paintings that were old from the look of them. Two fireplaces on opposite walls would compete to keep the room warm. Above the table were what I thought were brass chandeliers, but as I studied them I realized I was mistaken. A gold chandelier was extraordinary in and of itself, but when it came in a set of four it was mind blowing.
Each room in the castle was more beautiful than the previous, the history within the walls was overwhelming, and the more I saw the more insecure I felt.
“This was Greyson’s room.” Even feeling as I was I couldn’t deny the excitement at seeing Greyson’s childhood room. A large walnut sleigh bed took up most of the space and flanking it were matching nightstands. The floors were wood, aged and worn but beautiful. The walls were a soothing mossy green, but it was the paintings on the walls that I studied. He didn’t have posters of bands or movies. Greyson’s walls were covered in his drawings and later paintings. One was of stick people, but they were the nicest looking stick people I’d ever seen. Another was of a horse in a field, the date was when he was five and yet his drawing was better than anything I could do now. There were framed photos of his parents, of the three of them, and one of all three Ratcliffe men. It was scary how much they looked alike.
“I know you must be tired so I can have your dinners brought up to you.”
&nbs
p; I glanced over at Greyson before I replied, “We’d like to have dinner with you.”
Callum answered with a smile. “See you soon.”
The door closed and as was his way Greyson knew exactly what was going through my mind. He crossed the room to me. “I love you and you me. That’s what you measure us by, nothing else.”
I had trouble meeting his gaze. In theory he was right, but I was already having a hard time accepting that I wasn’t able to contribute more toward our apartment. Sure, he’d been working all these years and I was going to school, but I wanted to be on equal footing when we started our life together. I had to accept for the time being we wouldn’t be, but seeing where he came from, we would never be on equal footing. Even if I was lucky enough to become crazy successful, he had a family rich in history, hell, he was probably some kind of Irish nobility, and my father chose to break the law for a living.
Greyson touched my chin to gain my attention. “Understand?”
I avoided answering. “I love your room.”
He wouldn’t let me. “Alexis.”
The words were out before I could stop them. “Why me?”
My words were like a slap with the way his head reared back in shock. “Why, because you like Luke Skywalker over Captain Kirk and Toaster Strudels over Pop-Tarts. You have that beauty mark on your neck that still drives me crazy. You can make up a story about anything on a whim and you have appalling taste in bicycles.” He pulled me into his arms. “But you have excellent taste in fiancés.” He lowered his head. “Are we good?”
This is why we worked because despite where we came from we fit. “Yes, we’re good.” But I wasn’t able to shake off my insecurity so easily because I feared one day he might discover he needed more than I could give.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to say it was jet lag, but insecurity played a part too. He would be upset knowing I was still thinking that, but staring at my surroundings it was hard not to. I grabbed my robe and slipped from the room. We hadn’t toured the portrait gallery, we planned to in the morning, but I wanted to see in person the paintings I had studied so closely.
