Page 37 of Salvaged Hearts

“Mattie,” I scolded. “What happened this time?”

“Don’t look at me; look at Beau.”

“Where is Beau?”

“Upstairs with Daddy and Uncle Grey.” She shrugged nonchalantly before liquefying onto the floor like a limp ribbon. “I need pepperoni.”

“I’m sorry,” Leighton blinked. “You’re Greyson’sniece?”

“Matilda Hart,” she supplied dreamily before releasing a pent-up sigh and adding, “at your service.Technically, I’m asking one of you to be at my service because Daddy took my phone away again, and I need someone to order dinner.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying very hard not to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Which grew harder as Mattie extended her little hand as if to shake, and Leighton accepted with narrowed eyes.

“Leighton Rhodes. I’m Alice’s sister.”

“I could tell by the nose. And the hair. And the skin. You have pretty skin in your family. Did you know that skin is the largest organ, yet it’s the one most people neglect?”

“I did, actually,” Leighton answered, a tentative smile stretching over her cheeks.

“And did you know that it absorbs toxins within thirty seconds? I think that’s why middle-class housewives die so much—all the bleach and chemicals, you know?” Her little nose wrinkled with distaste despite her tone staying entirely matter-of-fact.

Chuckling, Leighton pulled her further onto the floor before hoisting her to her feet. “Well. That’s a very intriguing theory. What other theories do you have bouncing around in there?”

“So many. But first, I’ll show you the good pizza places online.”

Leighton’s laugh trailed back to me as she was towed away by the strangest preteen I’d ever had the pleasure of adoring. But my amusement was cut short by the figure in the threshold.

Greyson. Leaning against the doorframe in his signature navy suit.

“They seemed to hit it off rather quickly,” he noted with amusement.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Leighton’s always been awesome with kids, and she’s never been easy to rattle.”

“Mattie will love that.” He pushed off the frame and stepped into my bathroom, which is when I noticed the long, slender black box in his hands, my stomach somersaulting. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?” I managed, incapable of straightening my ducks. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure I even had ducks anymore—just a whole blender of chaos in my skull. The entire scenario was still too surreal.

Me in Greyson’s house.

Me, engaged to my boss.

Me, sitting on a pedestal, with professional stylists catering to my appearance, and Greyson Hart being kind for the sixth consecutive day because I finally—albeit unwittingly—had the man by the balls.

“I need you to promise me something,” he said sternly, stepping behind me until our eyes locked in the mirror before me, his hands fiddling out of view with the subtle slide of cardboard and fabric.

“Another demand—why, I’m shocked, Mr. Hart,” I replied, bringing a hand to my chest. The irritation in his eyes was more satisfying than it should’ve been. He’d been nagging me all week to call him Greyson, but I liked it better this way. Regardless of the frustration that evidently earned a long, steady exhale as though that could replenish his control, his hands came around either side of my neck with a reverent kind of gentleness. I was still enamored that they were calloused, even though the man spent sixty hours a week at his desk. What was he doing in those off hours out of sight? Rough fingers softly slid over my clavicle,and my eyes found a delicate gold chain glinting in the mirror as he wrapped it around my neck to fasten it.

My fingers settled against the beautiful gold cross at its center. I’d never been religious, but the piece was intricately woven—art in the form of ancient sacrifice.

“You’ll have to stop flinching when I touch you if people are going to believe you’re in love with me, Ms. Rhodes.”

“You’re going to have to stop calling me by my last name,Greyson.”

Chuckling, he gave the necklace a little tug. “Touché. Now, I need you to wear this, always. If something happens to me, it will lead you to the necessary answers.” Gently, he skimmed over the line of my neck, hazel eyes watching my reaction in the glass as I fought back the need to close my eyes at the touch. It wasn’t a flinch. Not that he needed to know that.

“I’ve never been one to pray to be saved.”

“Some secrets are hidden in plain sight.”

---