Chapter 16
W hen I said I wanted to throw a party for Grace’s birthday, I didn’t expect Oliver to take over and rally the troops so the gang’s all here.
All five of my brothers, Rina and Brecken, plus Margot, Halle, Aria and their guys, Drew, Jonah, and Wes, as well as a smattering of other friends of Grace’s.
We didn’t invite any of Grace’s friends from the hospital except for the trusted few here because we haven’t told anyone else there she’s living with me.
She said the last thing she wanted was for Janet Johnson to find out about that and I am, for once, in one hundred percent agreement with her on that.
It could be bad news for both of us if that secret got out. Especially with that conniving snake.
But this party…
Food. There is so much food spread across my counters and let me tell you, these are big ass counters.
Barbeque, because that’s what Oliver wanted.
Tapas from this amazing place in the South End because that’s what Rina wanted.
Mexican and sushi—don’t ask—because that’s what Margot wanted.
Grace didn’t have an opinion either way, she was just excited for anything.
All with a lot of alcohol.
Margaritas. Martinis. Beer. Wine. My condo has become a Fourth of July backwoods fest and everyone is partying accordingly.
My big mouth started this party, and it appears everyone else is finishing it off for me.
I haven’t moved from my perch in the kitchen, keeping my distance and pretending to play host all the while watching from afar as Grace has an amazing time.
She’s been laughing and drinking with her friends.
I’ve been trying not to stare at her since the moment she left her room earlier and I saw what she’s wearing.
A flowy coral-pink dress with a deep V-neck and straps that tie around her neck.
Her smooth, creamy back is partially exposed as are her legs since the dress ends a couple inches above the knee.
I nearly passed out from all the blood in my body rushing to my dick.
Oliver bought her a weekly organic food box subscription which is so brilliant for Grace, I’m pissed I didn’t come up with it myself.
For all the sugar that woman packs away, she also tries to cook and eat extremely healthy for herself during the week.
Lots of fruits and veggies as well as lean meats and protein.
She was so excited when he showed her that she squealed and threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. Being jealous of your baby brother sucks and now it makes me question my gifts for her. The ones I have yet to show her.
I’m working this harder than I’ve ever worked anything with any woman. My father’s words a lead blanket covering me with their weight and potency.
I don’t just want Grace for a fling—the way Margot said we should—but for real. All week Margot has continued to spew nonsense about hooking Grace up with this guy or that. I’ve nearly lost my fucking mind each and every time.
I can’t let that happen. I just fucking can’t.
Grace has to be mine. There is no other option.
I will make her fall in love with me. I will erase that douchebag Tony from her mind and her heart. I let the woman I was desperate for go once and I won’t do it again. I won’t.
Because Grace is it for me.
I knew it the moment I saw her standing before me in her scrubs with that wry smirk and those glimmering blue eyes and that I won’t take your shit mouth. I just had never considered it an option. She was engaged after all, but now, here, this… it’s my moment.
Even as my father’s words ring through my head with annoying clarity. Patience and persistence.
Which is why I’ve been sipping my margarita, picking at some of the pulled pork, and pretending to ignore her.
“Does Oliver know you’re overtly lusting after his best friend?”
Shit. I wasn’t staring at Grace. Was I? Of course, I was. I ignore Luca, who slides in beside me, leaning against the counter and staring out at the group in the great room.
“Go eat a chicken wing.” I point to a large platter of them.
“You know what this party is missing?” he continues without missing a beat. “Dessert. I’m thinking we need some pies to counterbalance the brownies, cookies, and cakes. Apple. Pecan. Lemon… what’s that white topping on it called?”
“Meringue.”
“Right. That. I’m thinking we need pies. Because you’re obviously lusting after a pie you cannot have.”
“I’m throwing that bullshit back at you.”
I turn to glare, only to find his green eyes loaded with so much amusement he could fill a park.
He brings his drink up to his lips, smiling through his sip.
“My romantic woes are well documented. Yours, not so much. You were digging on that Alanna chick, right? The one with the fucked up past who ended up with the dude who saved her life?”
“I hate you.”
“Everyone does. You’re missing the point.”
“And what’s the point?” I snap.
“You’re coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs over Oliver’s BFF. Why else would you allow her to move in and throw her a party? You hate parties.”
“I don’t hate parties.”
“You do,” he tells me, picking over some of the food on the counter without eating any of it. “Especially ones in your place. You’re as fucked as a man can get short of bringing your mistress to your daughter’s sweet sixteen party.”
My eyebrows scrunch. “Huh? What the hell does that even mean?”
He shrugs, taking a bite of an empanada and talking through a mouthful of spicy beef. “I’m drunk. Deal with it. It made sense in my head since my neuro partner just did that and is now getting a divorce. Whatever. This is your moment to act.”
Didn’t I just think those very same words?
“It’s not.” At least not yet. It’s too soon. She was with Tony for three years. She’s only been single for two weeks.
“Explain.”
Grace is sitting on my sofa between Rina and Aria. They’re all munching on who knows what while drinking who cares what. Actually, I think they’re doing shots and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Grace do shots because typically Grace doesn’t drink.
“She’s my resident,” I start, throwing all my own personal arguments that I don’t exactly care about any longer at him.
“Not the first time such a thing has occurred. It simply requires a conversation with the residency board and your supervisor. What else you got?”
“She’s Oliver’s best friend.”
“Do you intend to use her like a high-class hooker?”
I glare daggers into my brother, who only smirks in return, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“Didn’t think so. Next.”
“She just got out of a long-term relationship where she was engaged .”
“Do you plan on cheating?” I flip him off and he laughs, tossing the now balled-up napkin in the direction of the trash and making the basket.
He turns back to me. “Again, didn’t think so.
You’re not selling me on anything that’s pushing this as a hard no.
Especially when I’ve seen the way you’ve been watching her all night.
Landon has too by the way. The broody bastard is the one who told me to dig into it. ”
“You can leave now. All of you.”
“Actually, I’m thinking that’s wise. You know, give the two of you some alone time. You should put on a rom-com and cozy up with popcorn and champagne. Help spark your fledging love and maybe even learn a few pointers along the way.”
Jesus. I can’t even with this right now.
“What did you buy her?” he asks, not relenting even an inch.
“Shut up.”
He laughs, leaning against the counter beside me, folding his arms over his chest as he cocks an eyebrow at me. So perfectly coiffed because that’s Luca. He doesn’t even try, it’s just natural. Asshole.
“Leave him alone,” Landon demands, coming up and standing on the other side of me, mirroring his twin’s pose, but not expression. For how much Luca and Landon are identical, their personalities could not be more different.
“But messing with him is fun,” Luca whines like a toddler.
“Should I tell him you’ve been stalking Raven again?” Landon quips, a rare smirk replacing the perpetual frown on his face. “He’s still pissed no one informed him she was in town for those few days before Mom and Dad left.”
I burst out into a laugh, elbowing Luca in the side. “I thought you had kicked that habit, man? You need to be careful. If she presses charges, none of us will bail you out. She looks good, by the way. You know, for a teenager. Where did you stalk her to this time?”
Luca glares at us both. “She played Carnegie Hall last night before flying back to London. Carnegie Fucking Hall. I wanted to see it, that’s all. She didn’t know I was there. She never knows when I watch her perform.”
Landon and I exchange quick glances, both of us smiling like bastards at Luca. “Congratulations to her. What is your pretty, young cellist doing next?” I tease, already knowing she’s moving back to Boston in a couple of months.
Luca flips us off and my mood just improved exponentially. Even Landon is now smiling. Like a full, real smile. The kind he only ever gives to Stella.
“She hasn’t posted anything else on her social media. Whatever,” Luca grouses, twisting around and picking up a random drink and finishing it off. I scrunch up my nose, as does Landon.
“That’s nasty. You have no idea who that belongs to.”
Luca shrugs. “We’re all family here. Besides, tease me all you want about Raven, but at least I have a goal unlike you.” He points at me. “Better man-up soon before it’s too late.”
“Before what’s too late?” Kaplan asks, dropping his hand onto my shoulder and pushing me to the side.
“Nothing,” all three of us respond at once because Kaplan has the biggest mouth of all of us.
“Whatever,” he gripes, surveying the bottles of alcohol. “We’re doing shots.”
“No,” Landon and I clip out while both Kaplan and Luca respond with a resounding, “Yes!”
“Two each,” Kaplan demands. “Landon has no Stella tonight since she’s staying at a friend’s house and none of us are driving. You have a cleaning crew coming in the morning to take care of this disaster, so there is no sensible reason why you can’t.”
“What’s your excuse for drinking like a college kid, Baby Face Nelson?” I throw back.
Kaplan rolls his eyes at me, having heard every nickname under the sun for his baby-faced appearance.
The eldest of us most definitely looks the like the youngest with his clean-shaven face, lighter hair, and bright green eyes.
I’m the only one in my family to have gotten our father’s darker features.
“I don’t have any of the love woes you poor bastards do, and I intend to keep it that way.”
“Goodie on you,” Landon snaps at Kaplan. “What are we drinking?”
As fucked up as Oliver’s past with love is, Landon’s is worse. Worse than all of ours combined times ten. It’s why he is the cantankerous, miserable bastard he is. Except when it comes to the gooey, soft heart he has for Stella. Well, and the rest of his family of course.
Kaplan pours all of us a round of tequila shots because that seems to be what everyone here tonight is drinking the most of.
“Oliver!” Kaplan shouts in my ear. “Shots, baby brother. Get your pussy-whipped ass over here.”
“Dick,” I hear Oliver mutter, but he crosses the room and joins us anyway, perched against the island on the opposite side. “Love what you’ve done to the place since I moved out, Carter. It looks like a frat house in here.”
“Smells better though.”
“Can’t argue that.”
“Rina, you too,” Kaplan yells right beside my ear. Again. This time I punch him in the shoulder. “Sibling shots, princess.”
Rina groans but drags herself up and off the couch. “Shots? Aren’t you a little old for that?”
“No,” we all say in unison, and she laughs, resting her forearms on the counter and managing to shove some of the food aside to make room beside Oliver. He straightens, tossing his arm over her shoulder.
“Damn, I think we overdid it with the food,” she muses, surveying the massive buffet.
“Yes,” I agree. “You’re all taking stuff home. I have no room for all of this.”
“We’re keeping my cake,” Grace announces as she skips over, wiggling herself in between Luca and me, her soft, full breasts rubbing against my arm as she does. “I have to keep my cake and eat it slowly all week.”
Luca smirks smugly at me, bouncing his eyebrows up and down suggestively, and I narrow my eyes in return. “Carter likes to eat it slowly too, I’ve been told. If you like it that way.”
Grace turns quickly, her eyebrows pinched in at him in confusion.
“No one is taking your cake,” I promise her.
“But I know someone who might want to eat your pie. Slowly, of course.”
Jesus. Fucking Luca. I reach behind Grace and punch him in the shoulder. Hard. He grunts, shutting his mouth for once and taking the shot Kaplan hands him.
“Don’t be a crude fuck,” Kaplan snaps at him. “You want one of these too, birthday girl?”
I watch as Grace deliberates having a shot, but she nods after a half-second, a smile erupting across her face. “Sure. Let’s do it. Only one for me though. I’m officially approaching my limit.”
In the next second, we all have glasses in hand filled with tequila. “Happy birthday, my beautiful Grace,” Oliver toasts. “May twenty-nine be better than twenty-eight and all the years before it.”
“Yes,” Rina agrees. “To an amazing last year in your twenties.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Grace asserts, bringing the glass to her lips, but just before she swallows it down, our eyes meet, along with a simmering heat that rolls through me like a wave. I take my shot, she does the same, our eyes holding.
And when she’s done, she smiles up at me.
“Thank you,” she whispers and now I know what that look was. It wasn’t heat; it was gratitude. Bliss. She’s a little drunk and we’re making a fuss over her and yeah. That’s all that is. Fuck.
“You’re welcome.”
A second later, Oliver calls her attention back to him and the moment is over.
But still, I meant it.
I’m not giving up. Not this time.
It just means I’m willing to bide my time.
She has to be ready. Her eyes have to be opened to the possibility.
The possibility of us. Even if she’s not there yet, I know how to be patient.
I’m an OB-GYN for Christ’s sake. We invented the damn term.
Babies don’t come on our schedules, they come on theirs.
And Grace, it seems, is no different for me.
But she’s here. And she gives me looks.
Looks that tell me not pursuing her would be the mistake of a lifetime.