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“Yeah,” I say. “Before the rest of the house wakes up.”
“You think they don’t know that you didn’t go back to your room?” he says. “Nothing goes unnoticed in that house.”
“Well, I guess I can say I went to see a friend.”
He shakes his head. “Mmm. . .that could work, I guess.”
“Only thing is, I need you to show me where to go.”
He chuckles, reaching out and laying a big warm hand on my knee. “The McGregor mansion causing you navigation issues.”
I nod. “Something like that. I wasn’t in there long enough to explore.”
“Before my idiot brothers scared the bejesus out of you.”
“Exactly!”
His hand slides up my thighs and I’m immediately warm between my legs. Those eyes, watching my reactions, make me shiver. “Well, I hope I restored your faith in the McGregor men just a little.”
I smile. “Quite a lot. I don’t think I’m going to be able to sit down for a week.”
“So I take it you’re not up for some more fun,” he asks, looking hopeful.
“No...” I say a little too quickly. “I mean that I don’t think my lady could take it.”
“She just needs a little more training,” he says, sitting up so he can kiss me. His lips are so warm and soft and the way they move so mesmerizing that I think he could ask me to do anything and I’d say yes.
He draws back, cupping my cheek. “Let me get some pants on and I’ll help you back.”
I watch him dress, finding soft, dark blue sweats and tugging them onto the gorgeous body that gave me so much pleasure. It feels like, with every layer he adds, there’s more distance between us. When he’s dressed he helps me up and I test my left leg by placing my foot on the floor and gently resting my weight on it. It’s still sore but better than it was. Even so, Grant can tell I’m in some pain and he insists on carrying me back to the house.
I’m not sure what we look like, padding through the garden like a groom with his new bride. The morning is warm and damp, the air so fresh with the scent of the garden that I inhale deeply.
This is my favorite time of the day and just as I’m thinking it Grant says, “Isn’t it beautiful.”
“It is. So tranquil.”
He smiles. “Some of my brothers like to party late but there are a few of us who like to rise early. We’re lucky that we haven’t bumped into Donnie painting or Elliot working out.”
“We are,” I say. I like Grant a lot but I’m certainly not ready to complicate an already ridiculously complicated situation by letting everyone know what happened between us. If we can keep this amazing night a secret, it will be best for everyone.
At the back door, Grant presses his finger against a flat black pad and the door unlocks. It’s all so high tech. “You’re gonna need to speak to Jackson about getting access sorted to the house,” Grant says.
“That’s if I’m staying.”
“You want to leave?” Grant asks. I can’t miss the disappointment in his expression and feel instantly terrible.
“I think it will be the best for everyone,” I say.
Grant shakes his head. “Your mom will be devastated.”
“Maybe.” Grant gently lowers me until I’m standing in the hallway and I can rest my hand against the wall for support.
“You shouldn’t let my dad bully you out of here. You know he can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“He bullies the rest of you!”
Grant shrugs. “That’s different. We’re his flesh and blood and we’ve seen the sacrifices he’s made for us. We have a duty to put the family first.”
We start to shuffle slowly in the direction of my room. Grant keeps looking over to check I’m okay.
I have so much to consider and with so little sleep I know that my capacity for rational and logical thought is very diminished.
How can I stay? There is always going to be a feeling of awkwardness, no matter what I say or do. But can I leave? How will that affect Mom’s relationship with Roderick? I don’t want to do anything to damage her happiness. I owe her so much.
We slowly climb the stairs, and I grip the handrail and Grant’s arm for stability. “Nearly there,” he whispers.
I know where we are now. The door to my silly pink powder puff room is closed and I rest my weight on the handle. The door swings open and I’m momentarily stunned again at the ridiculousness of it.
“It really is pretty special, isn’t it,” Grant whispers, shaking his head.
“Special is a very good word for it.”
A few seconds pass as we look at each other, the realization that we’re parting hitting me in the gut in a way that shocks me. “So...”
“I didn’t expect this,” he whispers.
“Me either...”
More seconds pass, his eyes flicking over my face like he’s trying to commit my features to memory.
I have no idea what I want him to say next. I loved our time together but this is all too much. The implications of us starting something are huge. By doing that I’m either admitting that I’m taking a step towards Roderick’s ridiculous plan or that I’m rejecting it in favor of just one son. Either way, it’s going to cause trouble. And I know Grant has a lot of unresolved issues. Do I want to get tied up in that, too?
I really need to keep my life as simple as possible. I may need to disengage from this household at a moment’s notice, depending on what happens next, and having even a little bit of my heart invested in Grant is just too much of a risk.
“I had a great time,” he whispers.
I nod and smile. “Me, too. . .this all kinda took me by surprise.”
He nods and smiles back.
“I should get some sleep,” I say, looking over my shoulder at the bed behind me.
“Guess I’ll see you at breakfast,” Grant grins. There’s no awkwardness now and I’m so grateful. My stomach rumbles, right on time.
“I would say that’s a pretty good assumption to make.”
“Sweet dreams, beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. My knees almost buckle and everything in me is screaming to tug him into this room and not let him go. Then he starts to walk away and my heart clenches.
I wish I wasn’t this way. I wish that my heart was harder and didn’t get tangled up in feeling things it has no business rushing into after a nice afternoon and the best sex I’ve ever had. My heart would be choosing wedding dresses and picking cake flavors if she had half the chance.
I watch Grant walk away and my heart tells me that I shouldn’t have let him go, but my mind, in her boring, sensible voice tells me I did the right thing.
Gah.
Life is too complicated.
I turn and close the door, facing into this space that is supposed to be my new home.
I’m too beat to even take off my clothes but I still make it into the bathroom to clean my teeth before flaking out onto the bed.
My final thought before I fall into an ocean-deep sleep is of Grant’s eyes and the way he looked at me when we were fucking.
In a few months he’s going to be my stepbrother and everything we did last night will just sit awkwardly between us.
But all my memories of Grant will be amazing ones.
I think I’m ruined for life.
8
It feels like I’ve only been asleep for a minute when I’m roused by a knock on the door. For a second I’m confused about where I am, imagining that Mom’s voice will be calling me to get up and ready for whatever it is I’m supposed to be doing today. But it’s not Mom’s voice I hear.
“Laura.”
The voice is deep and definitely male. Elliot?
I sit up with a jolt, eyes opening to find I’ve been sleeping in a raging sea of candy-floss.
I’m at the McGregor’s mansion. Holy fuck.
“Yeah,” I call back. My voice is husky with sleep and my eyes practically glued together
with dry-tiredness.
“You decent?”
I actually have no idea but when I look down I remember crashing out in my clothes. “Yeah,” I call again.
The handle turns and a freshly showered Elliot enters the room slowly, hair still a little wet and cheeks pink.
I know I look like absolute shit and I know I should care but I’m too damn tired to find a fuck to give.
“You always sleep fully dressed?” he asks, grinning.
“Not usually,” I say with a shake of my head.
“Feel like coming down for breakfast?”
I look down at myself as though it should be obvious that I’m in no state to be entering the land of the living at this point. “Think I could do with freshening up,” I say.
“You look pretty good to me.” Elliot grins again, his megawatt smile practically laying me out cold.
“You’re obviously way too easily pleased,” I say, rolling my eyes.
He shakes his head and leans against the door frame as though he’s settling in for a long conversation. Why is he not seeing how much I need to get out of these clothes and into the shower?
“You fancy hitting the gym with me instead?” he asks. “I need to do some stretching.”
As hideous as I currently feel, that actually sounds like it might be a good idea. I attempt to move my bad leg and an ache of pain moves through the tissue. Stretching is a necessary evil.
“My leg is bad.” I rub my hand over it gingerly to illustrate the point.
“Well, I can help you with that.”
“Can you give me five?” I ask, looking towards the bathroom.
“Sure. I’ll go and grab some things and I’ll come back.” Elliott leaves and closes my door quietly behind him.
It takes me all of five minutes to shower, scrape my hair up into a messy bun and tug on my gym gear. Elliot gives me a little more time than I need which shows he’s a patient guy. I’m limping when I open the door, still not able to put my foot on the ground without wincing. Elliot’s face is immediately concerned. “Wow, you’ve really hurt yourself.”
“Something like that,” I say.
“Running away from someone?” I guess he must have heard about yesterday from his brothers.
“Are there no secrets in this house?” I ask, blushing a little. If he knows I was running, he must also know what I overheard and my reaction.
“Not very often.” He shrugs apologetically but his smile tells me he’s not that bothered. I guess he must be used to having zero privacy living in a house like this. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing my phone and stuffing it into my purse.
We make our way through the house, taking a different hallway and set of stairs. Elliot fills me in on the routine in the house. Generally, the boys are up early for breakfast and out the door by 8.30 am but it’s Saturday today so things will be a little more relaxed. We reach a set of large walnut doors and Elliot tugs at the handle and leads me into a sprawling fitness area. There are machines for cardio and weight training and a large soft-floored area for stretching and other floor work. Through glass doors I take in the gorgeous indoor pool and what looks like a spa area. I’ve only seen this kind of thing in magazines before and can’t help feeling completely overwhelmed at the luxury of it all. If I stay here, I’m going to get to use this everyday if I want to. This is a lifestyle I never imagined would be mine. Even as I think it I hate myself for being impressed by material things. I’m no Stepford Wife. The last thing I’d ever want to be accused of would be that I was a gold-digger.
I catch Elliot looking at me as I’m gazing around and I’m mortified.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he says softly as though he knows what’s going on inside my head.
“Yeah. No wonder you’re in such good shape. The college sports facilities are nothing compared to this.”
“Sweaty changing rooms and hundred-year-old equipment?”
“They smell like feet,” I say and he chuckles.
“So, you wanna sit over there so I can look at that leg?”
For a second I remember Grant’s hands on my thigh and how amazing it felt and my cheeks heat. Do I feel right having Elliot touch me under the circumstances? I’m not sure. I’ve made no commitments to Grant but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a sense of loyalty to him because of what happened between us. Elliot is only thinking about helping me, though, I rationalize. This isn’t about anything else.
“Sure,” I say, making my way over to the soft floor and dropping my purse. I struggle to lower myself because of the pain, and when I’m sitting, the matting is cold through the fabric of my work-out pants.
Elliot kneels next to me, his eyes trained on my thigh, and he reaches out to gently feel his way around my problem. His hands are big and strong but his touch is gentle. Even so, the pain still makes me gasp.
“Sorry,” he mutters, pressing a little lower where it doesn’t hurt quite as much. “Can you try and relax it a bit. The muscle is in a state of spasm. I want to see if I can ease it for you a little.”
I take a deep breath and try to relax, letting my leg go as loose as I can without wincing. Elliot shifts a little closer. “Breathe in,” he says. “Then let it out slowly.”
I do as he says and as I start to exhale he begins to stretch and knead my thigh. It hurts but in a good way. I can tell he knows what he’s doing. “Okay?” he asks as he releases me.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Can you take it if I do some more?”
“Sure.” I inhale and then exhale as he has instructed and each time he stretches and massages I can feel my leg relaxing a little more. I watch him, his face serious with concentration and I notice some small similarities between him and Grant. There is something around their brow and the straightness of their noses that hints at their family connection. Their coloring is so different though.
The early morning sunshine casts a bright beam of warm yellow light across the space, illuminating Elliot’s blond hair and fair lashes. Before I can look away, Elliot’s blue eyes flick up and catch me. There’s a moment of intensity there before he breaks into a smile.
“How does that feel now?” he asks.
“Much better,” I say.
He leans back a little. “Do you think you could put some weight on it?”
“Maybe.”
Elliot gets to his feet and holds out his hand to help me up. I initially take all the weight on my right leg and try slowly to press my left foot against the floor, testing the injury. It’s not perfect, but I can straighten my leg so much more now.
“You have magic fingers,” I say. There is just nothing worse than being physically incapable and Elliot has managed to help a lot.
“You have no idea,” he says with a wink and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Easy, tiger. I’m your soon-to-be-stepsister.”
“Is that what you said to Grant last night?” he asks with a knowing grin and my heart skitters. Has Grant said something? That would feel like a serious betrayal. Elliot’s jade eyes are sparkling with amusement at my obvious discomfort. I am certainly not going to confirm or deny anything at this point.
“What did you hear?” I ask, figuring that I might as well know where I stand.
“I heard that you were hiding out at Grant’s, and someone may have heard some very interesting noises after dark which definitely wasn’t you discussing your soon-to-be familial position.”
My face feels like it’s on fire but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of being embarrassed. “Didn’t your father tell you about listening at closed doors? You never hear anything you want to.”
“On the contrary,” Elliot says linking his hands behind his back and widening his stance. “What was heard was very interesting and definitely what some of us want.”
“Some of us?”
He grins but doesn’t answer straight away. Standing like that, in his gym gear, I can see the contour of his musc
les and the bulge of something very substantial. I guess size may run in families and, despite being indignant and angry and this conversation, I get a little shiver down my spine.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush with you, Laura. You’re my kind of girl in so many ways, and this is something I know is going to make my father very happy. I know I can make you very happy. I guess the missing link here is whether you’re interested in me the way you were interested in my reclusive brother.”
Holy shit. I was not expecting that. Elliot has cut through all the crap and just laid it out there. I guess maybe I’ve been naïve. After the conversation with Mom, I should have realized that this subject was not going to be covered up anymore. They all know that I know. They might also know that I’ve expressed reservations but I guess the more confident ones are still going to try and convince me, especially now they know that I’ve given in to Grant.
I feel like I’m standing at the precipice. One more step forward and I’m going to be tumbling into the oblivion. The thing is that oblivion is looking pretty good right now. That oblivion is over six foot of some of the best looking man I’ve ever seen in my life.
And he’s interested in me.
To be his wife.
I have to stifle a nervous giggle.
Forget this being a precipice. I feel like I’m in a parallel universe.
“I...I don’t think I really know what to say,” I stutter.
Elliot smiles wider. “It’s a lot to take on board,” he says. “I get that.”
“That’s a bit of an understatement.”
“But is it something you’re considering, Laura? I mean, you told your mom that you thought all this was crazy, and pretty much immediately got involved with Grant. And I know my brother. He’s not exactly a Casanova, especially since he lost his girlfriend.”
“Are you suggesting that I seduced him?”
Elliot puts up his hands defensively. “Not at all. I’m saying that I want to understand where you’re coming from here. What’s going through your mind right now?” He takes a step closer and rests his right palm against my upper arm, gazing down at me. “Do you feel that?” he says softly.
And I do. I do feel the tug between us, the same attraction that I felt from the moment I saw his picture online. It only got stronger when he collected me from the apartment. It’s a warm feeling of connection, layered with a hot tug of attraction. I blink, trying to think how best to respond. If I’m honest and tell him what I’m thinking about him, then things are about to get out of control.