I was more than ready to get through the next two days and get on that plane home. The sooner I left, the sooner I could get over this whole mess and put Jonathan behind me, once and for all.
The phone ringing next to me, thankfully, brought me back to the present. I rooted around the bed for it, staring at the ceiling fan. Once I finally found my cell, I brought the screen in front of my face.
Paige calling.
Decline.
I wasn’t ready to talk to her. She could get all the morbid details when I got home, and I could tell her while consuming a copious amount of wine.
My stomach growled suddenly. I hadn’t been able to eat anything since yesterday. The times I’d tried, everything tasted like dust in my mouth.
I noticed the clock on my phone and saw that it was six in the evening. Where did the time go? Grey dropped me off at two, and I spent forty five minutes on the phone with Galen. After that, I’d been laying here, crying off and on, while becoming closely acquainted with Grey’s ceiling fan.
Get it together, Clara!
I couldn’t let myself wallow. Wallowing sucked you down into a pit of hell that you didn’t come back from easily. It happened to me when I was seventeen years old, and it took years to break free. And even after that, it was tempting to go there again.
Living a happy life was a constant battle, but it was also a choice. I would never make the wrong one again. Life was too precious.
I rolled out of bed and put my feet on the floor. First thing’s first – a shower. I wanted the makeup gone and the clothes off. I was still wearing everything I’d put on this morning. Even the heels. I wanted the stink of being around Jonathan, even if it was his dead body, gone.
Grey’s bathroom was nice, small. There was a standard shower-tub, a single sink vanity, and a toilet. He had cleared the counters off, so it was clear of any clutter. I spied the medicine cabinet – I had to get my kicks somewhere – but it was boring. It was the normal stuff. No weird medications, no girly items that said he had a girlfriend.
Now, why did that thought pop into my mind?
You know why, Clara. You like him.
I told myself to shut up. I wasn’t here for that. I had enough baggage to deal. I didn’t need to saddle a man on top of that. Especially a man that happened to be my brother’s best friend.
Yeah, smart idea, Clara.
I found my toiletry bag and put everything I needed in the shower. I took my time and let the water take away the day. When I finally climbed out, my skin was pruned, but I felt like me again – the me before Grey’s call Friday night.
I was in the process of detangling my thick mane of hair when my cell rang again. As I found it on the bed, I realized it wasn’t my ringtone – my phone was silent in my hand. When the phone next to the bed rang again, I jumped. I was in Grey’s home, which meant that it was Grey’s phone ringing. I couldn’t answer it.
After dropping my cell on the bed, I ambled back into the bathroom and started brushing my hair again. The ringing stopped as Grey’s voicemail kicked on. A powerful shudder tripped down my spine. Why did this man’s voice do this to me? I closed the door to block out the sound. Plus, I didn’t want to invade his privacy by listening to his message. Some days I doubted my sanity, but I was never a creeper.
Then I heard, “Clara, pick up. It’s Grey.” I opened the door, curious. “I know the phone’s right next to the bed, so don’t ignore me. Pick up.”
I snatched the phone from its cradle and then teased, “Why does it feel like we’re always doing this?”
Stop flirting, Clara!
“’Cause we are.” He chuckled. “You sound better. Did you get some sleep?”
“No, just a lot of much needed time to myself.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I was worried.”
He really was considerate.
Remember, he strong armed you, Clara. Don’t fall for his charm!
“Listen,” he continued, “I’m on my way there. The town brought a bunch of food to Mom’s, so I made us a plate. I thought we could have dinner together. I haven’t eaten yet. I was a bit…preoccupied.”
“That’s nice, but-”
“It’s really important. I need to talk to you about somethin’.”
“Must you talk over me?” I complained. I was sick of people doing that.
“Please?”
He sounded so sincere,
I felt myself caving.
Still...
“You’re serious? Why? What do you need to speak to me about?”
“It’s better that we talk in person. I figured puttin’ some food in your belly after the hard day you had would do some good, too.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Fine.” I sighed, but inside I was a bit giddy at the prospect of being alone with him. “Come on over.”
“Good. I’ll see you in five.”
“Five?” I squeaked, but he’d already hung up.
I looked at myself in his mirror. I was in pajama pants and a camisole, and my face was devoid of makeup.
Just great.
Do you really want to impress him?
Actually, yes. Yes, I did.
I rushed to the bathroom, applied some mascara to my lashes, and slapped some gloss on my lips. I ran a brush through my still drying hair a final time before I went to my suitcase and pulled my camisole over my head. I found my bra and hurried as I strapped it on. After putting on my camisole and a hoody, I checked the mirror again. It was good as it was going to get.
As I ran into the living room, there was a knock on the door. I skidded to a halt at the door, trying to infuse some calm into my appearance. I took a deep breath and opened the door.
And there was Grey.
Holy crap.
I was in so much trouble.
He’d changed into jeans and a t-shirt, but he seemed oblivious to the cold – and it was extremely cold in the mountains at night. He towered over me in the doorframe, holding plates with plastic wrap covering them.
“Hey,” I said. My voice might have been a bit breathless, but it was from rushing.
Obviously.
It had nothing to do with the gorgeous man in front of me.
Keep telling yourself that, Clara.
“Hey.” He had a lopsided grin on his face, and the dimples on his cheeks were adorable.
Ignore it, Clara!
“Um, is it weird for me to tell you to come into your home?” I asked as I stepped away from the door.
He walked in as he replied. “Nah. I told you that you’re more than welcome, and I mean that.”
“It still seems strange. I’m sorry to put you out, Grey. With everything that happened today, I hadn’t called around yet.” I turned toward the dining room table and heard him behind me, closing the door as he followed.
“I wish you wouldn’t. Don’t worry about it. I offered, and I honestly don’t mind.”
I gripped the back of a chair at the end of the table and looked at him. “Well…I should have said it before, but thank you.”
He stared at me, his eyes roaming my face. “You look different.” He tilted his head to the side. “Better. I like your hair. I didn’t realize it was so long when you had it up.”
Heat crept up my chest and into my cheeks. “Uh, thanks.”
I turned and headed for the fridge, hoping he didn’t see. His laugh meant he did, but I ignored it. Once opening the fridge, I found it stocked full of food. I grabbed two sodas and turned back around, holding them up.
He smiled and gestured at the table. “Sit. Let’s dig in.”
I took the seat I had been holding on to as Grey sat to my left, placing the plates in front of us. As soon as I sat down the sodas, he pulled the plastic off and said, “Viola!”
My stomach roiled when I saw what was on the plate. “What is that?!” I sounded like a stuck-up dimwit. I closed my eyes, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”
He handed me a plastic fork as h
e chuckled.
That sound...
“Mom cooked some of it, but the others are different casseroles and such the ladies from town made. Trust me, I wouldn’t steer you wrong when it comes to food. This is gonna be amazin’.”
I poked at the food with my fork – it was a big pile of mush. It looked like vegetables and meat mixed with a truckload of mayonnaise. There were five different globs of what looked like the same but with different variations of color.
This food can’t be edible.
“Go on.” He took a forkful and shoved it into his mouth, moaning.
I made myself ignore that, too, and I took a bite, expecting the worst. Flavors burst on my tongue, and I let out my own moan. “Oh, God! That’s amazing!”
He smirked, his eyes twinkling. “Told ya.”
“I don’t think I can eat all of this. There’s enough for at least three people.”
I wasn’t lying, either. There was way too much food for me.
“Eat what you can. Mom made the plates. She tends to…overdo it sometimes.” He gave me a lopsided smile that made my toes curl. The dimples appeared again, too.
Ignore it, Clara.
I took another bite and said, “I’m sorry I didn’t go with you earlier and speak with your parents more. They seemed very kind.”
Emma and Brad Raiden were the epitome of a happy couple. You could see their love for one another as clear as day, but they had a friendly, comforting air about them, too. They both gave me a hug and told me how sorry they were. And they meant it – they had tears glistening in their eyes. Jonathan’s death hit them hard.
Grey waved me off. “Don’t worry about it. Mom and Dad understand.”
Remembering why he was here, I asked, “What did you need to talk to me about?”
An emotion crossed his face, but he shook his head. “No. We’ll wait ’til after we eat.”
I didn’t have good thoughts.
“Grey…”
He reached over and grabbed my hand. “Trust me. Just wait. We’ll talk after. I promise.”
I eyed him but finally nodded in agreement.
“I know you, but I don’t know you, Clara. You’ve learned all sorts of stuff about me so far. What is it you do?”
I could do idle chat.
“I work as an assistant at a law firm.”
“Do you like it?”
That was an easy one. “Yes. Very much. I get to work every day with someone I love very much. It keeps me busy. Honestly, I have no complaints.”
“So you work for your boyfriend, then?”
I burst out laughing. “Oh, no. Not at all. Galen is far from that.”
“Oh, Galen Talbert?” I tilted my head, wondering how he knew Galen. Seeing my confusion, he enlightened me. “He called me.”
“Ah, that’s right. He mentioned that you’d spoken. I forgot. I was a bit…rattled this weekend.”
There was another expression on his face that I couldn’t read. “He’s like a father to you, isn’t he?”
What is off here?
I didn’t know him well enough to put my finger on it.
“Yes.” I didn’t want to expand on that. I’d end up revealing too much about myself.
“If he was a father to you and Jon, why didn’t he come?”
“He had court. He’s a very successful attorney and is constantly busy. We are constantly busy. I work at least fifty to seventy hours a week, and Galen outworks me most of the time. He couldn’t get away.”
That was a blatant lie, but I couldn’t tell him the real reason.
“Hmm.” Grey nodded and stared down at his plate. “You work that much? That doesn’t leave time for anythin’ else.”
I shrugged, moving the food around with my fork. I was on shaky ground with this subject. “I don’t need much else. My work is my life, and I like it like that.”
“There’s no time in there for anythin’ excitin’, Clara. What do you do for fun?”
Fun? Uh… What should I tell him? Ha! He’d think I was crazy if I told him I didn’t need fun.
“I have a very good friend, Paige. When we can, we get together.”
Grey’s stare was keen, intense. I felt like squirming.
“Hmm,” was all he said as he continued to eat.
My stomach was full already, so I pushed my plate aside. “What about you? You work here, but what do you do for fun?”
“Well…where to start? I spend a lot of time with my family. They mean the world to me, so it’s never a hardship…like I know a lot of families are.” He grinned – he had a great grin. And that voice! It got to me every time. That southern drawl was like a warm blanket in the dead of winter, heating me, comforting me.
“Work for me isn’t work. I enjoy runnin’ the B&B because it allows me to spend a lot of time with my sister and parents. It’s a plus.”
He took a drink, considering his answer. He was taking the whole Q&A thing seriously.
“I go skiin’ and snowboardin’ when the season’s right. I like biking and fishing, as well. There are great trails and lakes around here. I have a bunch of friends. We tend to get together a lot.” His eyes went a bit misty suddenly, but he blinked it away. “I used to spend a lot of time with Jon and Stacy. We were close. We went to movies, had dinner…barbeques with the town…” His pain resurfaced again, causing him to look away.
I looked away, too. I couldn’t let him see what I was feeling. I was so all over the place when it came to Grey. I was envious of his life – it was a full one, with a lot of people whom he loved and that loved him. I had that…to an extent.
Then, there were the emotions I had over him losing Jonathan. I hated Jonathan. I hated that Grey was so torn up over his death, when I rejoiced in it and felt free because of it. And finally, the sympathy I held for Grey’s pain was mixed with all that. It was all so convoluted.
Grey cleared his voice, calling back my attention. “So, you see, I’m always busy. There’s never really any free time. I like that. I like to be on the go, whether it’s work or doin’ somethin’ else. I’m not one for television or downtime.”
All I did was watch television or read if I wasn’t working.
“That’s quite a lot,” I told him, not sure what to say.
“Yeah…”
As Grey pushed his empty plate away, he looked far away now that dinner was done. His expression concerned me.
“Are you okay?”
“Do you like wine?” he asked instead.
I was surprised, so I drawled, “Yeah…”
“I’ll pour us some.” He scooted his chair back and stood, walking into the kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of wine from the cabinets and went through the process of pouring us a glass. Once he was done, he held two glasses in his hands and motioned for the couch. I followed, feeling uneasy.
I guess this was where we were supposed to talk.
He handed me my glass as we took our places at separate ends of the couch, lounging as we faced one another. He took a deep gulp from his, which didn’t help my anxiety.
“What’s going on, Grey? Why the sudden change in attitude?”
He ignored my question. “Tell me about your parents. Jon never said much about the subject.”
I sputtered into my wine glass, choking. I coughed as I patted my chest lightly, staring at him wide-eyed. “Jonathan never told you?”
I was floored.
Wait…no, I wasn’t.
It fit.
He wouldn’t want anyone to know about them.
Grey’s brows furrowed – he was reading me again – as he explained, “Only that they were good parents, and they passed away.”
I wondered what my expression told him.
“What do you want to know?” I questioned.
My parents weren’t a subject that I could ignore. It was a story that was easily found if you went looking for it.
It wasn’t like the other story.
“Everythin’.”
I didn’t
miss the double entendre. He wanted to know about my relationship with Jonathan, about why I hated him.
I dodged his searching gaze and took a sip of wine. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell you this.”
“Enlighten me, please?”
I sighed and rubbed my left temple with my fingertips. “Why do you call him Jon?” I asked instead.
“You’re deflectin’, but I’ll answer. I didn’t know his name was Jonathan until you said that over the phone. He introduced himself as Jon, and I never questioned it. But it’s fittin’ since Jon is short for Jonathan.”
Interesting.
“He hated being called Jon when we were kids,” I disclosed, and then realized what I’d said.
When I snapped my eyes to his, his were a bit triumphant. He wanted to pry me open and find all my secrets. This was unsettling and slightly thrilling. No one showed this much interest in me.
Was it because he was intrigued by me, or was it because he wanted to find out what Jonathan hid from him?
Moving on…
It didn’t matter.
“So, he was Jonathan to you and Jon to me. I’ve already figured out that we knew two different people,” he stated.
Yes, very perceptive.
“I hate that you have to come to that realization.”
And I did.
Grey was becoming a bit too much for my state of mind. Besides his good looks, I enjoyed his company, and he seemed to be a very nice man.
He tilted his head and asked, “Why?”
“You obviously loved him.”
“I did. Very much… But you didn’t?”
I rubbed my lips together, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t give me away. I decided short was best.
“I once did.”
“But not now?”
“No.”
“Why?”
I laughed slightly. “I’m not going there. He’s dead and gone, Grey. It’s in the past.”
“I’d have to disagree for many reasons, but we’ll get to that later. How did your parents die? I can’t imagine how tough that must’ve been on you.”
“It’s not pretty, Grey.”
He lifted one shoulder, but his eyes held compassion. “Sometimes life isn’t, Clara.”
I blew out a breath and decided just to give it to him straight. “Murder suicide. When I was twelve, my mother murdered my father and then killed herself.”
Finding Bliss (Bliss #1) Page 7
