Page 147 of The Holiday Clause
“He doesn’t want to marry me and this has nothing to do with the fishery.”
“He told you that?”
He hadn’t told her, but she knew Greyson. He wasn’t doing this for an inheritance, and they hadn’t even slept together yet, so marriage was light years ahead. “This thing between us has nothing to do with your father.”
“That’s what you think.”
“That’s what I know, Logan. It’s taken us thirty years to get here. We’re not rushing.”
“He had his entire life to go after you, and he didn’t. Now, he’s suddenly changing his mind? Seems a little fast and coincidental to me.”
She was too tired for this conversation. “You’re wrong.”
“We’ll see.” He stood. “I guess congratulations are in order. Let’s just hope he sticks around and doesn’t pull a Greyson.”
She wanted to tell him that wouldn’t happen, but she honestly shared the same fears. “He’s not like that anymore.”
He paused and spared her a pitying glance. “For your sake, I hope you’re right. Feel better, Wren. Tell him I stopped by.”
The door shut, and she slumped weakly into the cushions. Boys could be so much drama. She coughed, moaned, and rolled onto her side, drifting back to sleep.
A while later, she awoke to Greyson speaking softly to someone in the kitchen, his voice low and indulgent.
“You like that, huh?” he murmured, a soft chuckle following. “That’s it. Take a little more.”
Wren frowned, recognizing the voice as the same one he used for dirty talk?
“Easy,” he said, tone coaxing in a familiar way. “That’s it. Nice and slow.”
Wren blinked and struggled to sit up.
“Don’t choke.” Greyson’s teasing laughter curled around his words, affection coloring every syllable. “Look at that dirty mouth.”
Her jaw dropped. What. The. Hell?
“You’re a filthy little thing.”
Having heard enough, she bundled herself up in the blanket, and shuffled into the kitchen like a walking burrito.
“Hey, you’re awake.” Greyson set the kitten down and pressed a hand to her head. “Your fever’s down.”
She squinted at the cat. “You gave him solid food?”
“He loves it.” He lifted an old, battered thermos out of a bag. “I had them put the soup in here to keep it warm. Good thing, because you’ve been asleep for a while. Hungry?”
She looked out the window, surprised it was dark. “Do you mind if I shower before I eat?”
“Towels are on the shelf.”
“Thanks.” She smiled weakly and turned. “Oh, by the way, Logan stopped by.” She sensed him stiffen but didn’t stick around to see his reaction.
The shower helped clear her head. Unfortunately, that opened the door for more thoughts, and the only thing she couldthink about was what Logan had said about Greyson getting the company now.
She put on a fresh shirt from Greyson’s drawer and returned to the couch. Greyson had Eclipse cued up where they left off, and a bowl and spoon waited next to the thermos.
He smiled and lifted the blanket for her to return to her now tidied spot. “Did the shower help?”
She nodded and pulled the blanket over her, not having much of an appetite, or a filter. “Are you planning on taking over the fishery?”
