“He’s the brother’s best friend,” a tall blond with an open, handsome face says. I’m glad he’s not recognizable. Where did they come up with these guys?
I nod. “I’m Spencer Laz.”
“I know this isn’t ideal for you,” Grayson takes pity on me, as the mutters become louder. “But I know you all want the best for Lyra. She needs to have all the options as she travels on her journey to find love.”
Who writes this stuff?
“And Spencer is an option,” Grayson continues. “They have a shared past—”
“What kind of past?” Ashton Carrington smirks at me.
“A history,” Grayson says firmly before I can answer. “And as long as this is what Lyra wants, we need to give her the respect to explore every possibility.”
“What if she doesn’t want to?” demands the growly man.
“Then Spencer will say goodbye,” Grayson confirms. “It’s her decision.”
“So you didn’t bring him here to make trouble?” asks a tall, shaggy-haired man who also looks vaguely familiar.
“Is there going to be trouble?” Grayson asks, looking at the group and then at me, waiting like a primary school teacher for us all to shake our heads. “I suggest you get changed because Lyrawill be back soon to finish your date with the cocktail party. And Spencer, you’ll be with the rest of the men tonight.”
“So he’s not showing up and getting a date right away?” asks a red-haired man.
Grayson shakes his head. “No, Spencer will wait to get a rose like everyone else. I’ll come in with you and get things smoothed over,” he says to me. “I’ll see the rest of you later.”
He inclines his head to me and I follow him into the lobby of the hotel.
I knew Odin and Camille have put a lot of hope and faith in the Oceanview being able to bring in tourists to Saint Pierre, and from my first sight of the newly renovated place, I think they were right to focus on it. The lobby is light and airy with a wall of glass doors open to let in the ocean breeze.
There are a few men scattered around the lobby, lounging in comfortable chairs with books or notebooks. Grayson says a few words and they drop their belongings to follow us out to the pool area.
There are no electronics allowed. That’s going to be more difficult than winning over Lyra for me.
“I’m not questioning your decision to come,” Grayson says in a low voice to me. “But I need to warn you that this might not be easy.”
“Has she already found someone?” I ask, throat dry at the thought.
“She might have made connections with a few of the men.”
A few? “She looked happy,” I say. “Before she saw me.”
“Sounds like they had a good day. They went whale watching.”
“Lyra loves that.”
“This is why we wanted you here,” he tells me as we step outside. The pool area is full of men—swimming, sleeping, lifting weights.
These are my competition.
“You know Lyra better than anyone else,” Grayson continues as a few of them call out greetings.
No one looks very welcoming to me.
“I hope she might be able to open up with you here. Come on over, guys,” he calls. “I want you to meet someone.”
“Spencer?” calls a voice. A man wearing a bathing suit louder than living in a castle full of kids pulls himself off a lounge chair and makes his way over to me.
“Lucas Nyle.” I recognize him right away since I’ve made a point of knowing most of the residents of Battle Harbour at least by sight. Lucas was a few years younger than me in school. He was in Lyra’s grade, if I remember correctly.
