Grant takes hold of my wrist, stroking my pulse with his thumb, and my brother’s head whips around, gaze zeroed in on the target.
“What did I say when we spoke, Hendricks? Repeat what I said to you.”
Grant looks suddenly contrite. “You said a lot.”
“I said––sure, buddy,” Calvin intones. “You can stay at my beach house as long as you like. My one rule is you stay away from my sister. Don’t go near her. She’s not available, off-limits to you and every other asshole in the NFL. I’m sure I said that.”
Grant nods, gaze averted. And, oh boy, he’s blushing.
Hand raised, I jump in, “Let me just offer this, Cal. There are a lot of assholes that are not in the NFL.” Calvin stares blankly at me. “Just sayin’…I’m putting it out there.”
“It’s true, Boo. There are a lot of them out there in general,” Cam adds from her perch on the barstool.
Calvin’s icy focus makes a full circle back to Grant. “I let you stay because you were supposed to be injured, focused on PT and getting back on the field. You’re playing this season?”
Grant nods.
“We really did try to hate each other,” I pipe in. “If that makes you feel better, Calvin.”
“We did,” Grant adds, staring back at me with a straight face. “We gave it our best shot.” His thumb keeps stroking my pulse point. “If you want the truth, Cal, I’m crazy about her…have been for a while.” Grant’s soft gaze moves over my face.
Bewildered, I ask, “Since when?”
“Since you invited me to have dinner with you and Sam the first time.”
My brows shoot up. “When you were watching game tape? That time? That long? Really?”
He nods. “You looked so nervous…” His hand moves to brush the hair off my shoulder. “All I wanted to do was hold you.”
My poor heart. It’s taking a clobbering lately. Leaning in, I wrap a hand around his neck and pelt his lips with quick kisses.
“For shit’s sake!” my brother yells.
Shortly after lunch. Calvin and Camilla prepare to leave. Camilla leans in as she’s walking out the door with her dark brows arched. “So not gay,” she mutters.
I bite back a laugh. “Nope.”
She mouths for my eyes only, “I want all the dirty details.”
Calvin piles into the Range Rover for the long drive back to New Jersey. “Babe, get in the car,” my brother hollers.
Hiding her mouth behind her hand, she mouths, “I saw it. Oh em gee,” before getting into the passenger side.
With his arm draped around my neck, Grant and I watch them drive away. “We can check telling Calvin off the list.”
I hum.
“I wish your sister-in-law hadn’t seen my dick, though.”
He looks so disturbed I double over in laughter.
“Mom!” Sam barrels through the front door two days later, a fresh tan making his pale gray eyes look even bigger in his face. We collide at the entrance of the kitchen. He hugs my waist and I bend over him, kissing the top of his head, the haircut already growing out.
Ronan follows him inside in that loose-limbed walk that I used to find ridiculously sexy. Now all I see is a slow walker.
“How was your flight? Tell me everything!” I say to Sam while I wrap an arm around his shoulders and guide him into the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Grant leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching us with a sweet smile on his face.
“Dad’s house is on the beach and we played beach volleyball and we went boogie boarding with his friend Christy.”
Christy? My gaze finds Ronan’s. His expression gives nothing away, though I detect a hint of embarrassment.
“Skye?”
He shakes his head. I could’ve called that one.
“Amanda––” Ronan calls out. “Can I talk to you?” Ronan’s cool gaze moves from Sam to Grant, who is at present scowling heavily at him. “Privately?”
The pit in my stomach says this is not good.
“Sam, catch up with Grant and I’ll be right back.” He doesn’t think twice, running over to Grant with Roxy on his heels.
I lead Ronan to the front porch. The second I shut the front door, he turns on me.
“I’m filing for joint custody.”
My stomach was right. My hands begin to shake. I push them into the back pockets of my white jean cut-offs. There is no way I’m giving him the satisfaction of seeing me come apart.
“Have you lost your mind? You’re never home. And that home is in another state.”
“I had a long talk with my son––”
“Oh please, Ronan. Your son? Where were you the last six years and more? You had our address. Did you use it? No. You were too busy being a folk hero.”
“I’m in his life now and hearing that his mother’s boyfriend almost got him seriously injured on a construction site matters to me. And hearing he almost drowned because his mother was too drunk to pay attention means it’s time for me to step in and do what’s best for Sam.”