Page 4 of Family Ties

I don’t belong here…

A hand brushes down my spine, and I jump so hard I think I’m going to fall into the pool. As I teeter forward, a strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls me into a body.

“You’re awfully jumpy, Angel,” Garrison whispers in my ear as his fingers linger along the waistline of my jeans. “I offered to help you with that on the plane.”

“Garr.” I shove his hand from the top of my pants. “Of course, because I would love nothing more than for your dad to walk back out here and catch you knuckle deep inside me. Where did he go, anyway?”

“He went to get Victor.”

“Victor?” I tip my head.

“The butler,” he responds while ushering me to the table.

“Thebutler?”

“Abigail, since my son doesn’t usually bring me wrapped gifts.” Grant gestures to the large square covered in kraft paper as he steps back outside. “I’m assuming this is from you.”

“Yes.” I nod. “I mean, it’s from both of us.”

Grant slides a finger under the paper and carefully unwraps the canvas. He silently scans over the painting before him, taking in the swirls of greens intertwined with gold foil. His eyes move from the bottom right corner, over to me, and back to the canvas before he asks, “This is yours? You painted this?”

“Yes,” I quietly respond. While proud of what I create, it’s always difficult to put it out into the world.

“It’s like staring into your eyes.” He turns so that he can see both me and the painting at the same time. “Beautiful and absolutely fucking mesmerizing.”

Heat creeps up my neck and over my cheeks, both from his words and the way he’s looking at me right now.

A gaze that feels very inappropriate for your future daughter-in-law.

Considering how oblivious Garrison is to our current interaction, I shove the feelings away. Putting it down to nothing more than my nerves over this situation continuing to get the better of me.

“Your drinks, sir.” An older gentleman, I assume is Victor, walks toward the table and sets down a small tray.

“Thank you,” Grant responds as he hands him the painting. “Please take this to my bedroom and ensure it is hung for me.”

“Of course, sir.”

CHAPTER

FOUR

GRANT

“This dinner was absolutely delicious.” Abigail exclaims, after she practically licked her plate clean. “But tomorrow night, I would really like to make you both dinner.”

“Could she be more perfect,” I smile at her while nudging Garrison’s elbow. “Smart, talented, beautiful, and she can cook.”

“I mean, it won’t be quite like this.” She lifts her plate for Victor and silently mouths, “Thank you.”

Even with her childhood, everything about her is just sweet and innocent.

We’ve been sitting on the patio for so long that the sun is beginning to set behind the tops of the trees surrounding the yard.

Taking a hefty sip of her wine, Abigail sets her glass on the table and proceeds to prop her chin up in her hands. Her eyes continue to linger between Garrison and me for a few minutes before she speaks, “It’s uncanny. The two of you, and how alikeyou look. Other than the gray hair… I mean… Shit! I think I might’ve had a glass too many.”

“I thought women liked a silver fox,” I smirk and watch as her already wine-flushed cheeks pinken a little more.

“I think it might be a good idea for me to head to bed before I stick my foot any further in my mouth.” She stands, looks at the house, and turns back to the table. “And where would that be exactly?”

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