Page 17 of Three Reasons

This woman keeps us on our damn toes, and after the interaction with her sister, I feel like I’ve been tongue-lashed. I think a lot of men would have run for the hills by now, and I’m almost certain that’s what Gray expects from us as well. On the contrary, from the identical look on Callan’s face, I realize he’s just as curious about the family dynamics as I am.

Of all that we just heard, the most surprising is that her father believes she’s obligated to marry some guy to further his career. And having our suspicions from that article confirmed doesn’t sit well with me either. I hate that Gray’s family cares so little for her well-being.

The bullshit about her shop being a joke and failing is absurd. In all honesty, I’d say the joke’s on them because our girl is damn successful in a male-dominated industry at such a young age. She’s one of the most professional people I’ve ever encountered, and I’m damn proud to get the chance to know her better.

“Is this normal?” I finally ask, knowing and dreading the answer.

“What do you mean?” Her dismissive tone as she walks away puts me on edge. “You mean trying to marry me off so they no longer have to deal with me, or the talking down to me like I’m the shit on their shoes?” Her humourless laugh is filled with hurt.

Sparing a quick glance over at Cal to gauge what he’s thinking, he’s expressionless as I say, “All of it.”

Gray remains silent for so long thatI’m not sure she’ll answer me. Do we even want to know, or do we just want to give her a life where she never has to second-guess whether she’s loved or not? That answer is damn easy.

“Tell me something, Eli.” She doesn’t wait for a response and still won’t look at us. “Do your parents express their love and pride for you?”

I hesitate before answering because I know where this is heading, and I don’t want to add to her hurt feelings. “Yes.”

“I’m glad. I’m genuinely glad you had that. I hope you treasure their love for you.” Wistfulness is evident in her voice as she finally turns around. “When I was around five, I realized I wasn’t the child my parents wanted. I had a difficult time sitting still, I would blurt out what I was thinking, and at dinner, I used to treat my mashed potatoes like a racetrack with my peas. They hated having me at the dinner table when we had company, but I’d never remain in one place for long because I wanted to be near my family.” Our eyes connect, and the hurt in them devastates me. “I was the family embarrassment. The reason they stopped inviting friends over and would hold special dinners in fancy restaurants. They had no control over me, and as I got older, I’d hear them whispering about me to each other. Wondering where they went wrong, why I was so defiant. How could Ibe such a wild child when they gave me everything.”

“Sugar…” Callan’s hard exterior cracks as he steps towards Gray, only stopping as she holds up a hand.

“It’s okay. I’ve never fit in with my family. Never been able to conform to who they wanted me to be. As each year passed, I could see how they looked at me compared to my brother and sisters, and for a long time, I wanted what they had. My parents were right; they gave me everything except love. So, I forced myself to try to be more like Margo and Sally. I fought against the urge to stand out and be myself. I lived as my sisters did for so long, and I lost myself. Lost the most precious part of me in order to gain their acceptance. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, too.”

“Lost what?” Something is missing, and I don’t think she’s dealt with it properly.

“What?” Confusion colours her distraught gaze.

“You said you lost your most precious thing,” Callan repeats, obviously picking up on what I did.

Gray appears startled before answering. “There was this boy in Margo and Sally’s circle that showed an interest in me. I ignored him for a long time before giving in, hoping my parents would give me approval. He was nice enough. Had this dark intensity about him that called to me. I should have known better.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Callan quietly asks with an intensity that shocks even me.

We both see where this story is going. Gripping Cal’s arm so he doesn’t fly off the handle, I try to infuse a calmness into him that I’m not particularly feeling.

I knew there was more going on with Gray than met the eye, but I never imagined this. Never thought for a second that she might be traumatized. All I want is to take her away from the hell her life has brought her and show her not everything is like this. People can love you for being different, and there’s not a damn thing wrong with her.

Callan

She can’t fucking be saying what I think she is. It’s not possible. She wouldn’t have… Her sisters wouldn’t have… Would they?

The look she spears me with is all the answer I need.

Spinning on my heel, I need air before I do or say something that will piss her off. Falling snow greets me, cooling my body but not my temper. I’m fucking pissed. Enraged and murderous. That fucking family of hers doesn’t deserve the beauty she carries within her.

“I wasn’t raped, Callan.” Her soft words halt my angry strides before I make it more than a step or two. “I did it because I wanted to. I did it because I thought he saw the girl beneath the pomp. I thought he would accept me for me…foul mouth and all. I was wrong. I’m always wrong.”

The pain in her voice is my undoing. I turn, storming back towards her. Rougher than I ought to be, I grip her ass cheeks and haul her lithe body up against mine. Slamming my lips onto hers, I own her mouth, her delicate moans of pleasure. I worship Gray in one of the most fundamental ways I know how—with mycraving for her. It’s all-encompassing and overpowering at its essence. My body is wild for her, like a person with an addiction seeking their next fix.

Gray takes over my soul. My train of thought becomes consumed by her and her moans as I plunder her mouth with mine. She’s intoxicating, and I want more. She’s sweet, like fresh peaches ripe for the picking.

Drawing back from her eager lips to catch a breath is pure torture. Gazing into her eyes, seeing the lust, want, andneed makes everything else in life appear inconsequential in comparison. All I need to wake up every morning is Gray.

It’s the corniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, yet it sums up my feelings. Her…us…we are perfectly imperfect. The chemistry we shared together was immediate, uncontrollable, like a summer storm in July. It swept in and took complete control of us all.

“That was…” she pants, out of breath. “I’ve never been kissed like that before.” Her quiet confession rocks me to my core. She should always be kissed like that.

“That so?” I say, unable to help my cocky tone and matching grin.

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