Reckless Abandon (Damaged #2)

by J. C. Hannigan

  I had a financial advisor and a lawyer to help me handle my finances. I wasn't about blowing the money I earned on the party lifestyle; I wanted to make smart decisions with my income because I didn't know how long I'd be able to do this—being away from my family and putting in 80 hours a week, living with the guilt I felt for all but abandoning Cadence on my sister.

  I still loved music, I still loved singing and writing, but the exhaustion was getting to me. I wanted to settle down. I wanted to finally play a bigger part in Cadence's life...and now with Julia gone, I was about to do just that.

  My house was located near the beach in Brentwood. I had fallen in love with this particular Los Angeles neighborhood upon seeing the historic coral trees on the beautiful grassy median in the San Vicente Boulevard. I didn't even really need to see the house to know that I wanted to live there, close to the beach. It was about as different from my hometown as I could get, and I needed that if I was going to stay focused.

  Fortunately, the house was just as beautiful as the drive in had been. It was four thousand square feet and had a modern contemporary design—a lot like Grayson's house. Being a builder himself, I was sure he'd like that part about it.

  I loved my house. It was the only reason I hadn't minded living in LA. The master suite had a large deck with a beautiful view of the ocean. I could sit on my deck and enjoy the beautiful taste of ocean with my morning cup of coffee as I watched the waves roll in. My deck also overlooked the beautiful in-ground pool beneath. It was Cadence's favorite part about coming to stay.

  I couldn't stop wringing my hands together as I nervously watched Grayson take in the upscale neighborhood that was Brentwood. I was both excited and nervous about the prospect of showing Grayson the house. I was worried that he would think it was over the top, and it was. It was a mansion in a gated community where a bunch of other celebrities lived. Black cast iron gates and a security guard prevented just anybody from coming up to my house.

  I also had security cameras trained on every entrance to the house, manned by the security guard. A year ago, I'd had a creepy "fan" that had tried to break in to convince me that we were destined to be together. I was extremely lucky that my housekeeper had been there at the time and called the police. I gave him a lovely parting gift—a no contact order.

  The driver, Jim, turned into my driveway and slowly rolled down the window to speak to the security guard. I couldn't hear their exchange, but the gates swung forward a moment later, allowing us entrance. Jim parked the car in front of the four-car garage. Jim had been my unofficial driver for the last three years, and true to Jim's nature, he got out and opened the rear passenger door for us with a cordial smile before disappearing to the trunk to grab luggage.

  Grayson's eyebrows arched as he took in the beautiful house and grounds. He stepped out of the car, letting out a low whistle. "Jesus...this place is huge," he remarked, holding the door open for me. I climbed out, my hands trembling slightly. "You seriously lived here alone?"

  "Kind of. Friends and family are welcome to come and stay whenever." When I first bought the house, I entertained the daydream of having Julia and Cadence move in with me. But Julia didn't want to leave Newcastle, and I realized how terrible of an idea it was after my stalker-fan tried to break in.

  "Why didn't Julia and Cadence just move in with you?" he questioned.

  "Because Julia wanted to be where it was familiar. Besides, I was hardly ever home anyway. Julia and Cadence would have been alone here more often than not. It made sense for them to stay in Newcastle," I answered as I glanced back at Jim. He was preoccupied with getting our bags out of the trunk. "And I didn't want to take her away from Julia."

  "Take her away?" Grayson's expression darkened. His brows knitted together while he tried to make sense of my decisions. I sighed, trying not to feel defeated. I couldn't blame Grayson for trying to figure it all out. I didn't even understand my choices completely, I still questioned if they were the right move. "It wouldn't have been taking her away...she's your daughter. Our daughter."

  "I know that," I snapped.

  Grayson's eyebrows shot up, it wasn't like me to lash out, but he wisely didn't say anything further as Jim approached us with our bags. "That's fine, I got it," Grayson said gruffly. He took the bags off the smartly dressed driver. Jim inclined his head slightly with acknowledgment as he passed the bags off to Grayson's outstretched hands. I hoped he wasn't offended by Grayson's behavior. I probably shouldn't have snapped at him, but I was so sick of people trying to dissect my decisions; it was another reason why I'd kept quiet for so long about them.

  "The car will arrive at six tomorrow morning, Miss Daniels," Jim said, reminding me for the hundredth time.

  "Thanks, Jim, see you then," I told him, offering a thankful smile. Jim nodded, the corners of his lips perking up in response.

  "Have a good evening," he said before climbing back into the sleek black car.

  I turned to face Grayson, my shoulders deflating slightly. "I'm sorry I snapped, Grayson," I said, heat flooding to my face. "I know what people would say if they knew...that I'm a terrible mother...that I abandoned her... and I just couldn't bear for you to feel that way too."

  "Angel, that is not at all how I feel," Grayson murmured as he stepped toward me. His expression was one of pain and regret. "I understand what you did. I do. Sometimes, it's not easy to wrap my head around, but I don't feel like you abandoned her. You've given her a hell of a lot more than I ever did."

  "You didn't know about her," I pointed out. I tried to blink the moisture from my eyes. This was not how I wanted to start out our weekend together.

  Grayson's hand tentatively came up to brush across my cheek. "We've both made mistakes...lots of them...but we can't move on from them if we don't let that go. Clean slate, remember?"

  "Is that what you did?" I inquired, looking up at him.

  "More or less." Grayson shrugged, a sad smile appearing on his lips. "I seriously didn't have my shit together before I saw you again that day. All I knew is that if I ever had the chance with you again...I wouldn't throw it away. I'd do everything in my power to be the person I believe you deserved. I just didn't think I was going to get the chance to prove it to you."

  I smiled at him, closing my eyes against his touch and savoring it for a moment.

  "We should go inside," Grayson suggested. I opened my eyes to see that devilish smirk that usually brushed across his kissable lips and took a shuddering breath. I turned and led the way up the stone walkway, my keys gripped tightly in my trembling hands. I unlocked the door and punched in the security code quickly, standing aside to allow Grayson in.

  I could tell that Grayson had his architectural hat on as he surveyed the beautiful pine floors, stone accent walls, and beautiful built in bookcases that housed a variety of different decorations, photos, and books.

  "Impressive. They know how to build in LA," Grayson finally said, breaking the silence with his declaration of approval. He set his large hands down on the smooth marble coffee colored countertop.

  I shyly smiled in response, mentally holding up a truce flag. "Are you hungry?" I asked. Grayson's eyes quickly found mine, heat flickering behind the icy blue of his eyes. He absently bit down on his lower lip, and I could tell he was clearly thinking suggestive things. My heart stuttered in my chest and I smirked. "For food...Lydia probably left us some of her delicious homemade lasagna." I turned around, needing to break the spell. I couldn't think when he looked at me like that. It was almost enough to undo me completely.

  I distracted myself by opening up the refrigerator and peering inside. Lydia knew that I'd be back, and she had clearly gone shopping at some point today. My refrigerator was full of groceries; fresh produce, fruit, yogurts, and deli meats lined the shelves. In the middle of the refrigerator was her delicious chicken lasagna; my mouth started to water at the very prospect of it. Lydia's cooking surpassed my mother's, and that was definitely saying something—not that I'd ever admit that to M
om.

  "Who's Lydia?" Grayson asked, remaining at the island as he watched me bend forward to grab the Tupperware container.

  I closed the refrigerator, setting the container down on the counter before I turned to face him. I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ears. "She's my housekeeper and my cook..." I trailed off, feeling awkward.

  Lydia was a soft-spoken Latina woman in her late thirties. She did all the shopping for me, she took care of the house when I wasn't home, and she cooked me meals when I was. She was a single mom of two teen girls that she'd had very young. She was warm and trustworthy.

  I looked over my shoulder at him, watching as he smirked.

  The look in Grayson's his eyes immediately set my skin on fire. The air suddenly felt heavy in my lungs, so I turned away from him, needing to distance myself a little.

  "I need to eat before you get any ideas," I warned. I hadn't eaten since before we boarded the jet, and that had only been a banana. I didn't enjoy flying; it still made my stomach feel weird and I always found it best to avoid eating before and during a flight. Now that I was back on the ground, my stomach was rumbling impatiently, demanding attention. I pulled off the lid, setting the container in the microwave.

  "Yeah, you're going to need your strength for tonight," Grayson retorted, coming up behind me. His arms landed on either side of me, his hands gripping the counter as he caged me in. He pressed his pelvis against the small of my back, gently pushing me against the counter. I pressed back against him, grinding against his stiff arousal.

  "You're going to need your strength too," I said coyly, dipping my head backwards. Disappearing into each other sounded like a perfectly good idea to me, especially after that terrible meeting with Brent. I knew Grayson could easily melt away all of the tension I was carrying.

  His lips found the sweet spot against the side of my throat, just below my earlobe. He kissed me there, his lips softly promising more things to come, and I instantly felt some of the tension roll away.

  The microwave dinged, interrupting Grayson before he could make good on my threat. He allowed me to break away and grab plates, realizing that I really was too hungry to focus on anything else. I dished out the steaming lasagna onto two plates. I grabbed forks and offered Grayson his plate. He took it eagerly.

  "Smells good," he commented as he followed me over to the table. He sat across from me, barely sitting down before he started to shovel in the lasagna. I followed suit, too hungry to care that I was scarfing back food in front of Grayson. Normally, I was shy about eating in front of people. It wasn't fun to have your photo snapped of lettuce stuck between your teeth.

  "Do you want a glass of wine?" I offered once we'd finished. I rinsed the dishes, placing them into the empty dishwasher before I grabbed two wine glasses from the cabinet.

  "Sure." Grayson shrugged.

  "Red or white?" I asked. He looked at me blankly. Amused, I grabbed the bottle of thirty-year-old red wine from Italy. I'd been saving it for a special occasion and I figured this was as good as any. I poured two glasses, putting the cork back in before I handed Grayson his glass and led the way into the living room. I sat down on the couch, using the remote to turn on the small fireplace that separated the entertainment room from the living room.

  Grayson joined me, setting his glass down on the black walnut coffee table. "So...are you ever going to tell me what happened during the meeting?"

  "Oh." I frowned, my mood darkening slightly at the mention. I sighed. "It went about as well as any meeting with Brent could have gone. He's a total asshole, but he was on his best behavior. I honestly don't have anything to worry about. My lawyer is going to take care of everything."

  "Why is he such an asshole?" Grayson inquired. I chewed over my answer. I had to be careful with Grayson on how I answered him. Grayson wouldn't take kindly to hearing the truth.

  Brent Woodstock was a genius who did deserve credit for helping us achieve all the success we had, but he was also a slimy, greedy possessor. He was oily and distrustful. He was the fuel behind the Kyle and Everly engagement rumors, and he had a perpetual habit of tipping off the media so they could get incriminating photos of his clients.

  He'd also come on to me during our first year in LA. He was used to the female clientele allowing him to act in all the disgustingly sexual ways he wanted to act. He had requested a private meeting with me in his office, wherein he sat close to me on his greasy sofa and tried to touch my upper thigh while implying that he could really make me big if I "just cooperated with him". I had freaked out about it; I'd caused such a scene that Kyle, Marcus and Cam had burst in from the waiting room.

  It wasn't difficult to see exactly what had happened, and the guys wasted no time telling Brent exactly what would happen if he tried a move like that again. Then they were extremely careful of ensuring that I would never be left alone with Brent Woodstock again.

  Telling Grayson all this would just piss him off, though, and considering nothing had actually happened, I didn't feel like rocking the boat.

  "Because he works for a record label and is a ruthless prick." I shrugged. "It's really not a big deal. I won't have to deal with him directly anymore, and for that I'm thankful."

  "Amen. Here's to shitty bosses," Grayson remarked, winking. We clinked glasses and took another deep sip of wine, looking at one another over the tops of our glasses. "This is a really nice house, Everly," he added, his eyes still on me.

  "Thanks. I'll be sad to see it go. I bet I won't be able to find one like it in Newcastle," I said, folding my legs up beneath me. I avoided Grayson's eyes while I tried to sort through the thoughts racing in my mind.

  "Maybe..." He shook his head. He looked up at me, giving me a rueful smile. "Never mind. It's stupid." I could hear the vulnerability in Grayson's voice.

  "What?" I pressed, a small smile finding its way to my lips. I took a sip of wine, listening to the comforting sound of the flames licking against the fake wood in the electric fireplace while I kept my eyes fixated on him. He saw something there, and moved forward.

  "Why don't you and Cadence just move in with me?" His voice was low and intense. The emotions swirling in those glacier blue eyes made my breath catch in my throat.

  Grayson's words had my thoughts running a thousand miles a minute. It would be so wonderful to wake up every morning in his arms, to get to see him interact with Cadence every single day. It would be the best kind of wonderful to do mundane things with him...like cooking dinner and watching TV together once Cadence was asleep. If I closed my eyes, I knew I could easily envision it all: a family. I wanted it so bad that it almost hurt.

  On the other hand, a part of me felt as if that would be rushing things. We'd only just gotten back together, and he'd only just found out he had a daughter. We had had little to no time to adjust to those huge shifts, and even though things were moving smoothly, I couldn't help but fear that diving in and investing everything I had would just leave me heartbroken in the end. I was afraid even though my heart told me I shouldn't be. After all, I hadn't stopped loving him. He'd always been it for me, and I desperately wanted to make up for all that lost time.

  As if he could see the doubt fluttering through my mind, Grayson's expression changed to quiet understanding laced with disappointment. His hand reached out and tentatively found mine. He was about to speak, but I beat him to it.

  "Grayson...it's not that I don't want to," I told him, my eyes locking with his and pleading with him to understand. "I want that more than you could ever imagine. I'm just...scared. Things have been going so well, and I'm afraid. I'm afraid to lose it. I'm afraid to push it before it's ready. Before you're ready...before I'm ready. If it were just you and me, I'd do it in a heartbeat. It would only be myself at stake, but it isn't just you and me. I have to think about Cadence too..." I trailed off and looked toward the fire, trying to blink away the stubborn tears that decided to flow.

  Grayson's hand gently cupped the underside of my chin, urging me to look at him. H
is eyes flickered with pain, longing and understanding. "Angel, it's okay if you don't want to rush it. Please just know that the offer is there, whenever you want to take me up on it." His voice was gravelly with emotion and longing, but I knew he understood the place I was in.

  "I just need to be absolutely sure that we're both ready for that..." I trailed off again, swallowing the lump of emotion that seemed perpetually lodged in my throat.

  Grayson winced as if my words physically hurt him, and I knew that they had. He was likely recalling what had happened last time we moved too quickly. We hadn't both been on the same page, and the result hadn't been good. I was afraid of that happening again, even though I knew we were both in different places.

  "I understand," he assured me, his lips gently descending on mine. He kissed me in a scorching way that made me feel as if I were melting from the inside out. I tipped my head back, offering him more. My hands automatically went to his buckle, and he groaned with my lip caught between his teeth when my hand grasped around his hard length. He stilled my movements, his heat filled eyes opening to lock on mine. "I do understand...for the record," he clarified, a smirk teasing the corners of his lips upward.

  Chapter Twenty

  Grayson

  THE NEXT MORNING, I awoke to the sound of the shower turning on. I blinked, disoriented for a moment or two. I hadn't really taken notice of my surroundings the night before, given the carnivorous activities we were engaged in.

  I followed the sound of the shower to the ensuite bathroom. Everly's shower was made up of glass almost all the way around, and the glorious sight of the water beading and disappearing down the small of her back made my dick stand fully erect.

  It was my fault we were running late. We raced out of the house fifteen minutes after six, and earned a scathing look from Maddie when we finally got to the studio where they filmed The Margo Morning Show.