13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Maggie
W hen the doorbell rang, I glanced at the clock. After nine. Frowning, I crossed the kitchen to the door and opened it without checking the peephole.
Shit.
“Grady.” A strained smile rose to my lips, and my heart galloped into my throat. Why did he have to be so freaking attractive?
His gaze trailed over me in a leisurely way while his two dogs strained on their leashes.
Self-conscious, I touched a hand to my hair piled on top of my head in a messy bun. I took off my makeup when I closed the pharmacy at eight, and I was dressed in sweats. If I was naked, I couldn’t have been more embarrassed.
“Can I come in?”
“You want to come in here?” I hoped my body blocked the view inside my open-plan house. Not that it was messy, but having Grady here, in my personal space, was unnerving. How had he gotten my address?
“Pretty sure that’s what that phrase means.”
I eyed his dogs. “I have a cat.”
“They like cats.” Grady’s brown eyes were tinged with humor. “Mostly to eat.”
“You’re not coming in here.” I started to close the door, but Grady snuck his foot into the opening.
“I don’t want to be that guy, but—”
“You love being that guy.”
“I heard you’re helping to organize a concert with my brother.”
I opened the door wider and braced my shoulder on the frame, still not inviting him in. Both dogs and Grady inside my small bungalow would be too much. “And you care because?”
“Come on. Trent is my brother. Of course, I care. And concerts are my thing.”
“I’m not sure Trent would agree.” I tucked a strand of hair that had fallen out of my bun behind my ear. “He doesn’t want you involved, or he would have asked you.” Not to mention he’d flat out told me I couldn’t include Grady.
“What do you, Trent, or even Lila, know about organizing a concert?”
“It’s not simply a concert.”
Grady frowned. “I heard something about a magic show. I’m not going to claim I can help there. But I know concerts.”
A burst of laughter escaped before I could hold it in. Grady’s gaze slid to my lips and then back up to my eyes. My heart stuttered.
“Why is that funny?” he asked.
“Who told you it was a magic show?”
“I can’t reveal my sources.”
“Good night, Grady.” I slid the door closed.
“Your dad. Okay? It was your dad.”
Another laugh tumbled out before I could stop it. “He told you it was a magic show? Oh my god. That’s hilarious.”
Grady’s frown deepened. “It’s not a magic show?”
On impulse, I swung the door wide and waved Grady in. My whole body was lit with amusement. I was going to replay this conversation later and then make Lila call my dad to explain the only magic would be inside the men’s underpants. Or the tighty-whiteys Lila thought all the volunteers should wear. I wasn’t sure about that idea.
“If your dogs so much as look at my cat sideways, you’re all getting kicked out the door.”
He chuckled. “I was joking.”
“You make jokes?”
“Apparently ones I don’t even know I’m making. What’s the deal with the magic show or not magic show or whatever the hell is going on?”
I grabbed a bowl from one of the cupboards and filled it with water. I set it down in front of the two dogs, and they drank eagerly. When Grady caught my gaze, there was a new softness in his face which sent shivers across my body. Goose bumps rose along my arms.
“You cold?” The back of his hand skimmed my upper arm.
“No,” I admitted. “I’m not cold.” Our gazes met, and the air crackled. This feeling between us was something I loved and hated. How was it possible to feel unhinged and penned-in by one person?
The leashes hit the tile floor with a soft thud. I waited for his arm to circle my waist, for him to tug me flush against him, for his lips to descend, and the taste of wintergreen to invade my mouth. He’d loved those mints.
Instead, he pulled out a chair at my kitchen table and sank into it. A thread of disappointment laced around my heart, and I tried to brush it aside. I rounded the island to turn down the TV and attempted to get a handle on my erratic feelings.
Calm down. Calm down . You don’t want him to kiss you. You don’t even like him. It would ruin everything—again.
“Are you going to tell me?” Grady called.
“Trent doesn’t want you involved.” I came back and pressed my side into the island, hoping I looked confident and in control.
“I want to help.”
“You don’t know anything about it. How can you say that?”
“All right. I came back home to reconnect with my family. That means Trent too.”
I pursed my lips. “Exactly how much effort have you put into that so far? I haven’t heard of any trips to Utica to see him. It’s a thirty-minute drive.”
With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. He leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “I’ve made mistakes.” He glanced up, and his eyes were haunted. “We made mistakes.”
I swallowed, and another memory of Grady lying on his bed, my lips trailing across his stomach surfaced. The desire to close my eyes and live in that moment stirred. What happened had been a mistake, but it hadn’t been as dire as Grady believed. I wished I could tell him the truth, even if some of it was deeply embarrassing. The folly of youth.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” I said.
“Course not. We pretend like it didn’t happen.”
I needed a distraction. Opening a cupboard, I took down a glass and filled it with water from the tap. “The magic show is a Magic Mike show—male strippers. We’re calling it Small Town Saviors. Lila is recruiting. Should I tell her you’re volunteering?” I promised Trent I wouldn’t rehash the past. None of it mattered anymore. Grady had to figure out how to move forward without dragging all of us back. I should take that advice.
Rising, Grady wandered to the island and leaned against it, close enough for me to catch the scent of his sweat and cologne, which brought back more memories than I’d ever admit. The smell of him, some mix of pheromones, made my stomach clench. I met his gaze.
“Talk to me, Maggie.”
“We’re not wading through the past right now.” Could I convince Trent to tell his mother and Grady the truth? I wasn’t sure he would agree to be honest with his mom. God, I couldn’t even decide. What was the right thing to do?
“Then let me help.”
“Why? Why do you want to horn in on this?”
“I miss my brother.”
“Easy. Call him and go for a beer.”
He pressed his palms into the granite top and his gaze seared me with his intensity. “You think he’d go?”
I searched his face. Sincerity was written all over him, but this was the first indication I’d had that he regretted the distance between them. “What happened? How did it get this bad?”
“You know what happened.”
My heart thumped. Deep down, I’d worried I’d had something to do with him drawing away from his brother. But to this extent? Didn’t make sense. “That can’t be the only reason.”
He held my gaze for a moment, his jaw tightening before his focus slid away.
With only a small hesitation, I trailed my fingers from his shoulder down to his hand. I’d missed him, this connection between us was thrilling and baffling. He’d been my secret shame for years, the one I’d never really had but who had gotten away, nonetheless. Now, he was back, but most of the time I was sure he disliked me. If he blamed me for the rift between him and Trent, it made sense for him to hate me. I’d hate anyone who drove a wedge between me and one of my siblings.
His fingers found a tendril of my hair. He looped it around his finger, and I tried to catch his gaze. The air around us hummed.
“I’ll strip for you if that’ll get me on the planning committee.”
Heat spread across my body at the pitch of his voice. His tone was meant for dark rooms and sweaty bodies. I angled toward him, begging for something I’d never say aloud. He met my gaze. “You want to get on the committee that badly?”
“I want something that badly, yeah.”
My breath caught in my throat at the husky shift in his voice. I wanted to close my eyes and replay his words over and over. God, I was pathetic. “This is the best way to get it?”
He released the tendril. “I want you to help me get my brother back. After all, you’re part of the reason we’re not close anymore.”
The gate was lowering between them. I wondered if I could slip one more question in before the crack sealed shut. “Will you tell me the other reason?”
As though I hadn’t spoken, he turned his back and headed for the door, snapping his fingers at the dogs. They trotted obediently to him. I’d forgotten they were in the house.
“When’s the first meeting?”
“We’ve already had a meeting.” I followed him to the door but left enough space, so I wasn’t tempted to reach for him. He probably hated me. Better to keep my distance. I needed to keep focused on the election. This sexual attraction would fade, burn out, go away if I ignored it.
He scooped up the dogs’ leashes and met my gaze. “The next one?”
“Trent is going to be angry.”
“Let him be angry. We gotta start somewhere. And he has a right to be angry. I’ve been a shitty brother.”
I wanted to dig, to uncover what else lay buried in the past. “Why the sudden change?”
“It’s not sudden.” He ran his hand across the back of his neck. “Since I got here, I didn’t know where to start.” He shrugged. “Seeing him at the pharmacy the other day, it drove home how far I’d let it go.”
The urge to apologize was overwhelming. We’d made stupid choices back then. Maybe it was time we all stopped paying for them.
“Next Monday in the mayor’s office. We’re meeting next Monday.”
Grady gripped the dogs’ leashes and opened the door. “A concert and male strippers.”
“Yes.”
Over his shoulder, Grady grinned. “Your dad is in for a hell of a surprise.”
Another laugh rose up before I could stifle it. “His face will be priceless. I think I might let him in on the secret before then.”
His gaze was wistful before he pulled the door closed. “Probably a good idea. Most of the time, secrets just fuck things up.”
The smile faded from my face as he shut the door tight behind him. Had that comment been directed at me? Probably. I’d once told Grady that Trent and I weren’t what we appeared to be. We kept the lie going out of habit or necessity, maybe both. I yanked the elastic out of my hair and then redid my bun.
Did the truth really set people free, or did it only make things worse?