“By partners, I mean marriage, Monroe.” He opens our bedroom door, then silently closes it behind us before gently setting me on the bed. “I never wanted the happily ever after, but for the first time in my life, I’m seeing the outline of one—with you.”
“What if I turn out to be the evil stepsister?”
His frown changes his entire face, but he bites his bottom lip, and I can see his mind working behind his jumpy eyes.
“That’s not even a possibility, but if, by chance, it happens, then we’ll find the balance of good and evil together.”
I want to argue. I want to fight him—it’s what we do best—but then he presses a devastatingly sweet kiss to my lips. It envelops all the goodness he possesses, and he transfers it to me with the confidence of a hero in a romance novel.
It hits me then… That’s who Grey is—the wounded protector archetype who has no problem ruining anyone who gets in the way of his family, but underneath that protective layer is just a man who wants to love and be loved.
We’re more alike than I could have ever imagined.
“Go to sleep, Monroe. Our story is just beginning.”
He’s my own personal Mr. Darcy, and he’s willingly playing the part.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
GREYSON
“It doesn’t haveto be perfect—I just need it inhabitable,” I say.
I had to wait two weeks for new windows to arrive because of a supply issue, but I’m more than ready to bring Savvy home—to our home.
Braxton chuckles beside me. “You know, you don’t have to rise to the occasion every time Pops pushes your buttons.”
That crazy old fuck is the reason Savvy isn’t by my side today. He all but insinuated I couldn’t take care of my fiancée because I couldn’t even get my house in order.
So instead of being with her and ensuring the bitch brigade leaves her alone in town, I’m here, at our house, installing new windows.
I swear, if bargain-bin Barbie so much as looks at Savvy funny, I’ll ruin that woman’s miserable existence.
Jesus Christ. I’ve turned into exactly what I used to ridicule—obsessive and a pussy for the one woman who drives me up the wall. I must make a face to go along with my erratic thoughts because Braxton chuckles.
“She’s fine, Grey.” His hand lands on my shoulder, and I can’t contain the snarl that crawls up my throat faster than ablowtorch. He snickers but removes his hands, holding them palms up, as if that will defuse my irritation.
“Pops pushes ’cause sometimes you need a push,” Moose says to my left. We’re holding up a window frame while Cian nails it in place from the inside.
“He pushes because he has no boundaries and thinks everyone’s business is meant for him,” I grumble back.
“Got it,” Cian calls through the window. “Brax, need ya in here.”
Braxton nods, claps me on the back, then walks away.
Moose heads in the other direction and sits on a cooler full of snacks that Pops has already eaten most of.
“Ya know, Gilly hated me at first.” Moose chuckles as though he’s lost in a memory. “Hit me in the head with a shovel the first time I showed up to ask her for a date.”
“Jesus. What did you do?” I lean against the side of my house and cross my ankles.
“I was so caught up in what I thought were my responsibilities that I forgot she had thoughts and feelings of her own. Our pas were business partners. They died in a car wreck when I was eighteen, Gilly was sixteen.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” And I am. Moose seems to be one of the lucky ones who actually loved his father.
He nods, the motion thoughtful and silent. “We’d always joked we’d end up together. Got along well, liked each other enough. But after the accident, I was left with two households to provide for. I was so consumed by duty that I became a robot, mechanical in my thinking and stubborn to a fault. When the company was in trouble and I needed my inheritance to make ends meet, I told her to marry me.”
I wince. An image of me demanding the same thing of Savvy crosses my mind.