“Who was that?”
I chewed and swallowed. “Some journalist—Politiclout, I think they said they were from—asking about my father. I never speak to the press about him. Ever.” I took another slice, eating at a more human speed.
“Politicloutis a queer news source. Why would they be calling you?”
Inviting Grady was a mistake. I possessed a damn good poker face at the office, but that obviously wasn’t carrying into my personal life. Grady knew something was going on, but without me as a willing participant, he wouldn’t push me beyond what was comfortable.
“I don’t know. Can we watch the game now?”
Grady dipped his head. “Yeah, sure.”
Of course the Mets gave away the lead they’d held throughout the game, and it was extra innings before they finally put it in the win column. It was a little past ten when the game finished, and by then, Grady and I had finished a six-pack between us. I was a little buzzed and ready for a shower and my bed.
“Thanks for coming by. I needed this break after staring at settlements all evening.”
He flashed a smile. “Always willing to help. I’d better go. I have a foster family coming in at nine a.m. who are considering adopting siblings. I’m hoping they go through with it.”
Curious to know more, I leaned against the kitchen island. “Why wouldn’t they want to?”
A cloud settled over Grady’s face. “Because once you adopt, you can’t give them back. And that’s always a foster child’s greatest fear. It’s why we’re so often people-pleasers or nonconfrontational.” His dark eyes glittered. “We never feel safe.”
Those words had me recalling my client Steven Culver and how desperately he wanted to hold on to the child he and his soon-to-be ex had fostered then adopted. Again, I admired his tenacity to fight for his child.
“Were you or your brother adopted?”
“Nah. Keston was an even wilder child than me.” His eyes dimmed. “Still is. Owns a tattoo parlor.”
“You, your brother, Brenner…amazing that you all managed to beat the odds.”
Grady’s good humor faded. “That’s an anomaly, as I’m sure you know. Most don’t.”
“I’m sure.”
I couldn’t imagine the terror of living with that uncertainty every day, not knowing if the bed you woke up in in the morningwould be the one you’d fall asleep in that night. For all that my family was dysfunctional, I’d never had to worry about survival.
“I’d better get going. See you in the morning.”
“Take it easy.”
I cleaned up, took a shower, and went to bed, wondering what Brenner was doing.
**
At eight thirty the next morning, I sat sipping coffee and reviewing the file for my first meeting.
“Wow. Weston Lively in the office so early.” With a smile in his eyes and on his lips, Brenner strolled into my office and kicked the door shut behind him. My brows rose.
“You know what they say. The early bird gets thecock-a-doodle-doo.” I met him halfway for a kiss.
“That’s not how I learned it. Must’ve been those fancy prep schools you went to.” He cupped my ass, and I rubbed up on him.
“Mmm.” I kissed the spot under his ear I’d learned made him quiver. “Why’re you here before nine?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” he panted and pulled away. “We can’t go further.”
“You started it. And why couldn’t you sleep?” I snickered. “Miss me?”
Laughing, he moved to a safe spot in the corner of the room. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have.”
