Uncle John’s shadowed face an inch from hers, the bourbon on his breath, the way he’d put his hand over her mouth when she whimpered.
Not all monsters looked like monsters. Some looked like family.
At some point, she managed to stop crying, managed to drag herself from the floor and to the shower. She even managed to put on makeup to cover the evidence of her tears.
The rest of the day passed in a blur as she went to work, going through the motions, while banishing every single dark thought to the recesses of her mind. It was a skill she’d developed when she was a teenager, though it wasn’t something she had needed to do in recent months. Sophie told her the only way to walk through the pain was in a straight line. She told her shortcuts and cutting the corners didn’t work.
Today, she didn’t just cut corners. She gave that pain a berth so wide, she was practically in a different state.
For eight hours at work, she was a blank slate.
Then she went home and kept the page clean—empty—right until she managed to fall into a restless sleep.
Grayson Storm was far more tenacious than anyone she’d ever met, which meant that, despite her best efforts, she couldn’t shake the man.
She’d managed to put him off for a couple of nights, once with the lie about dinner with her parents and then the second night, by claiming she had a killer migraine and needed medicine, silence, and a dark room. Even then, he’d offered to take care of her, but she managed to hold him off.
The next night, she got a reprieve when Grayson had to drive to Pennsylvania with his dad to pick up some new equipment for the winery. They hadn’t gotten back until late, thanks to a flat tire.
For three nights, she thought she’d gotten what she wanted.
Distance from him.
She’d hated every single second.
So when he called her first thing this morning to remind her about her promise to come to dinner with his family that night, she hadn’t put up a fight like she should have.
Instead, she agreed when he said he’d pick her up at five-thirty because, in truth, she missed him.
“I could have driven myself,” she said, as they pulled up in front of his parents’ farmhouse, which also functioned as a B&B.
Grayson gave her a charming grin, without repeating what he’d said the first time she’d said the same thing, when he’d arrived at her apartment. According to him, he wasn’t taking any chances of her changing her mind. Come hell or high water, he was spending time with her tonight. Then, he’d kissed her like he’d been off to war for years rather than the three days they’d been apart. Of course, she’d returned that kiss just as heartily, because she’d missed him too.
The Storms were a large family, and almost all of them still lived on the farm. Grayson had already explained that while they worked together and saw each other daily, his mother still insisted that every Sunday, they gather for a meal.
The Storm house was just as chaotic as she’d imagined, loud voices reaching them before they even made it to the front porch. As they walked inside, she realized it was just as warm and inviting as she’d imagined too. And oh my God, the smell of butter and garlic and freshly baked bread had her mouth watering instantly.
Grayson took a quick whiff as well, and rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Smells like my mom’s stuffed garlic chicken. I swear this is the greatest thing you’ll ever taste.”
“It’s already the best thing I’ve ever smelled.”
His grin widened as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Remi greeted them before they made it more than a handful of steps inside, handing her and Grayson bottles of Rain or Shine IPA, claiming she’d seen them pulling in.
“Welcome to the Thunderdome,” Remi proclaimed with a laugh, as the sound of raised voices reached them. It sounded like someone was fighting, though given the squeals of laughter and…was that bets being placed?…Wren assumed no one was really arguing.
“Levi and Sam,” Remi explained. “The Iron Man debate rages once more.”
Grayson rolled his eyes, then explained for Wren. “My big brothers have had this same damn argument since they were in middle school, both of them insisting they’re the strongest guy in the family. Ultimately, the debate rages until it reaches a head and they decide to resolve the issue through some sort of competition. Tonight, it’s going to be settled by…” He looked toward Remi, waiting for her to fill in the blank.
“Arm wrestling,” Remi replied. “Standard bet. Five bucks. We were waiting for you two to get here. Who do you want?” she asked, looking at Wren.
Wren shrugged, glancing at Grayson, who was already pulling out his wallet. Withdrawing a ten, he placed it in Remi’s hand. “Put down five on Levi for Wren, and five on Sam for me.” He winked at her. “Hedging out bets. Either way, we win.”
She tried to pretend she didn’t love the way he called them a “we.”
Grayson grasped her hand, tugging her toward the kitchen. “Come on. We can go say hi to Mom.”
