“Well, whatever it is, you’re forgiven,” Karmen says in a voice as sweet as honey. “And don’t you think for a second that you should be any less grumpy because I have a feeling that Greyson enjoys a challenge.”
“Are you calling me a challenge?”
“Absolutely, and don’t you dare tell me you’re not.” She picks up the makeup brush she’d set down. “Now, do you want me to continue or not?”
I sigh, exhaling a long breath. “Let’s see what ya got.”
8
GREYSON
“How do I look?”
“Like some kind of dapper James Bond hillbilly,” Duke says.
I arch a brow. “Seriously?”
“You look fine, but you know that Penny ain’t gonna care that you’re in a freshly pressed suit. That’s not her thing.”
“So you think I should change?”
“I think you should quit trying so hard and act natural.”
“But then she won’t think I’m putting any effort into her,” I argue.
“Tell me, Grey, how much effort have you been pouring into that girl since you found out she was pregnant?”
“Everything I’ve done has been to show her how dedicated I am to making this work.”
“And where has that gotten you?”
I frown. “Well, shit.”
“Lucky for you, I packed something in the back of your truck.”
“What the hell did you pack?”
“Go look.”
I go to my truck and look in the bed. “Wow…”
“What do you think?”
“This will work.”
Eager to get on with the evening, I head home to where Penny is waiting for me.
Play it cool. Don’t lay it on too thick. Don’t mention the baby.
It feels weird knocking on my own front door, but I want to get this right, and that includes a proper courtship.
When the door swings open, I have to do a double take, because standing in front of me, framed by the soft glow of light spilling from the house, is a different version of the woman I’ve spent years glimpsing from across fields. A woman whose motives and ambitions were foreign to me, because I never allowed myself to get too close.
Instead of her typical flannel attire, she’s wearing a form-fitting black dress and heels that elongate her legs, showing off the muscles she’s earned from all her hard work.
Through the square frame of her glasses, her gorgeous doe eyes stare back at me in question. Her newly sculpted brow arches up, creasing her forehead as her eyes trail down to my hands.
“More flowers?”
