Dr Greyson (Brothers Paradise #1)

Trinity

S ometime in the early light—not all that long after we went to sleep—I slip out of the hotel sheets, the silence in the room amplifying my heartbeat. It’s steady, purposeful, as if it’s trying to convince me that leaving is the right choice. The soft rhythm of Greyson’s breathing lingers in the air like a ghost I can’t shake, tugging at me with a warmth I can’t afford to feel. I dress quickly in the bathroom.

Out in the hallway, the air is crisp, a sharp contrast to the warmth I left behind. I take a deep breath as the door to Greyson’s room closes softly behind me, letting the chill settle my frayed nerves. It’s for the best , I tell myself. One night, one mistake, neatly wrapped up and walked away from. I don’t need to let him distract me. I’m at this conference to learn what I can and take it back to my hospital.

It’s not until I’m sipping coffee at the hotel breakfast spot that the truth crystallizes for me. Greyson Paradise . From the town of Paradise. When my parents left Vancouver, that’s where they retired and where my father passed away just after Christmas. Greyson’s family’s legacy looms as large there as the mountains that cradle the town. They named it, and later, they poured their soul into earth and vine to bottle the essence of that place.