Page 109 of Play Me
She grabs a towel from beside the sink and starts cleaning up her mess.
I take a bite of toast, pondering her observation. She seems to know Gray on an organic, personal level, so her opinions of him hold water. If she thinks he has a good heart, that means something.But what does she mean when she says it’s sometimes to his own detriment?I can’t help but wonder if that doesn’t factor into his time at Denver. I’ve failed to understand why that version of Gray—the version who showed up in Nashville—is so different from the one I’ve come to know. And I also can’t help but wonder if it’s tied to his relationship with Caroline.
My stomach tightens at the thought of the woman in the picture.
I hate not knowing anything about her, mostly because she doesn’t seem like just another ex who broke his heart. She seems to hold a chunk of Gray’s past that he’s not ready to share … or give up. He doesn’t owe me anything, least of all the insight into his previous relationships, but it does make me feel a certain wayto know that I found it so easy to talk about my painful moments with Trace, and Gray keeps his past with Caroline on lockdown.
If I knew what happened between them, I believe I’d understand the inner workings of Gray Adler a lot better. I don’t know why it matters because it’s not like Gray and I are an item. We just fucked a few times this weekend, and I’m certain he’ll want to go back to his normal life when we get back to the city.But what if …
What if I dared to believe there could be a world where Gray and I had a real connection? What if I were brave enough to take my head and hormones out of the equation and see where things led? Would it lead to Gray, or am I just so desperate for a man to be kind to me that I’m being unrealistic?
“Gray hasn’t brought a woman around the ranch since high school,” Cathy says. “You can imagine my surprise when I saw him this morning and then discovered he brought you along.”
I pick up my fork again. “That was probably a shock, huh?”
She smiles over her shoulder. “Yes, but now that we’ve chatted for a few minutes and I’ve gotten a pretty good read on you, it’s also a delight. His momma would’ve loved you, Astrid. And that just makes this old woman’s heart so full.”
Huh? I shake my head, certain that I’ve misheard her. I put down my utensil before I drop it and it clatters to the floor.
“That’s … really nice of you to say,” I tell her, wondering if I should share that Gray and I aren’t together-together.
“I assume you know what happened to their parents,” she says, somber.
“Yes. Gray told me they died in a tornado.”
She nods, turning around and facing me. Crow’s feet pinch the corners of her eyes, and lines curve around her mouth. But her eyes, bright and blue, are as clear as the Caribbean waters. “When I told you that Gray’s heart can be to his detriment, what I meant was that he puts a lot of pressure on himself. Sometimesthat leads to him carrying unnecessary guilt. That’s an important part of understanding who he is.”
I tune out the faint pinging from outside and the hum of the oven. My breaths deepen, pushing through the constriction in my throat. The air has shifted from light and fun to something heavier, something much more real. My gut tells me to listen … and take notes.
“Why do you say that?” I ask, my voice controlled.
“Well,” she says, drying her hands on a towel. “Gray was supposed to meet his dad in Omaha the weekend the tornado hit. Ronnie, Gray’s dad, had to pick up a horse from a friend that Sunday. At the last minute, Gray canceled, so Anne, his mom, went with Ronnie.”
No. I lay a hand on my chest, feeling it shake with every breath.
“That guilt isn’t his to carry around,” Cathy says. “And I know if Ronnie and Anne were here, they’d be so upset with him for feeling the way he does. It’s stolen a lot of joy from his life.” A slow smile touches her lips. “But that’s why I know they’d love you. This morning, Gray was the happiest that I’ve seen him since before they passed away.”
I grip the edge of the table as her words slam into my heart. This woman knows Gray through and through, and she believes that he’s happier than she’s seen him in years …because of me?
Before I can begin to process her observation, the door opens to the laundry room and the guys tromp in. They chatter back and forth like old friends. Seeing Gray so relaxed makes me smile. It also makes me question if Cathy is right. Maybe it’s being home that makes him happy and not me.
“There’s a gaggle of trouble,” Cathy says.
“We learned from the best.” Jasper kisses Cathy on the cheek. “Is that an apple pie?”
She bops him on the nose. “It is. And if you come back for supper, you can have a slice.”
“He'd better still be here helping me with this fence,” Hartley says, opening the fridge and tossing the guys each a bottle of water. “Especially since Gray has to leave.”
My gaze drifts to him. His shirt is thrown over his shoulder, and dirt spatters across his sweaty skin. He’s a real-life ad for pickup trucks or construction equipment, and I suddenly understand the attraction to a blue-collar man.
“Are you about ready to head back to Nashville?” he asks me.
“Yeah, sure.” I smile at him. “I’m ready when you are.”
“I’m going to grab a shower and then we can hit the road.”
“I’ll be ready.”
