18. Dogs Don’t Just Trust Willy-Nilly
18
Dogs Don’t Just Trust Willy-Nilly
GREYSON
“People suck! People suck! I don’t understand! How do people have this kind of capacity for cruelty?” Alice hissed under her breath as she stroked long lines down the puppy’s now-white back. She promptly dubbed him Chip once we had him cleaned up and nestled into her lap. The vet came and went after we had the little guy bathed, and my beautiful wife had been a rollercoaster of pissed-off and panicked the entire time.
Aside from needing some help getting his calories back up, Chip was otherwise in miraculous form, and according to my vet, would have a wonderful future, to Alice’s teary relief.
I’d never been a lapdog kind of guy—if the breed couldn’t protect you or complete a task, sharing your space with a slobbering fur-ball wasn’t really that appealing until I had Cap. But Chip would stay about this little. The mess of mud and mats was now gone, and he had stark white hair that told Doctor Melligan he was at least part Maltese.
Didn’t mean much to me, but Alice lost her shit. As I scrolled through information online, I began to understand why . These weren’t some mutts that filled up shelter kennels. They were designer dogs—highly sought after for their intelligence and endless adoration of their humans.
“You did well today,” I noted, tangling my fingers in her long ponytail. “Making him feel safe. That was quite the ordeal.”
“Thanks. You were incredible,” she added, still stroking long, soothing lines from the crown of his little head to his tail. Captain was still tentatively sprawled over the end of the bed, his big snout pointing toward the newcomer curiously. He’d been about as displeased as his new mama with the situation and only stopped whining when Chip did. “It was like he knew you’d help him. That says a lot, Greyson. Dogs don’t just trust willy-nilly, especially when they’re scared.”
Studying the trace of regret in her eyes, I softly assured her, “I never meant to be the monster in your story, Belle. I’m sorry you ever saw me that way.”
“Hell hath no fury like a Rhodes scorned,” she said, aiming for a joke, but her tone was too heavy with history to hit the mark.
I leaned up on my forearm so I could reach her chin, guiding her up and over to me. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, my eyes closing as I soaked up her sweet chai scent.
“I didn’t exactly give you much to run with outside of asshole boss.”
“I saw pieces, though,” she admitted. “With Mattie and Beau and with other people around the office. With the little things you did for me—guiding me around, helping me out of the car. I was just too busy being mad at you to acknowledge them.”
“Wanting you wasn’t an option,” I admitted, tucking a stray strand of silky hair behind her ear. My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out in case it was Doctor Melligan. The name on the screen made me hesitate. “Odd.”
“What?”
“It’s Royce,” I said, forwarding the call to voicemail. This was Alice’s time. The rest of the world could bugger off. A few seconds later, a text bounced onto my screen, his persistence piquing my interest.
Royce
Hey, Hart? How’s newlywed life?
Greyson
Better than I imagined. I think we’re adopting a puppy.
Royce
*laughing emoji* That didn’t take long. Happy wife, happy life, right?
Greyson
Right.
Royce
That’s why I’m reaching out, actually. Miranda and I were chatting, and she just adores Alice. She hasn’t made a lot of friends in our circle, which has been pretty isolating. I’d love to facilitate a get-together for our ladies. We’d love to have you both over for dinner, or we could spoil a good walk on the green. Sundays are best for us. Run it by your bride and let me know what you have open.
“What’s up?” Alice asked softly, intently studying my perplexed expression.
“They’re inviting us for dinner. Or a round of golf. Evidently, Miranda adores you.”
“Yes, well, I am adorable,” she teased flatly, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder.
“Well, I’m aware of that,” I said, pressing another kiss to her forehead and freezing when Chip stirred inside the cocoon of her crossed legs.
“What, you two never hang out?”
“Hang. Out ?” I questioned sardonically, earning the most impressive eye roll known to man.
“Yes, Heartless, hang out. Get together. Enjoy a friendship.”
“No,” I answered honestly. “People value what I can give them more than my conversation.” My phone buzzed again, and I glanced down at another message.
Royce
Miranda would like me to relay that if weekdays are easier, the kids go down by seven, and we have the patio to ourselves.
I’ve told her the nanny can put them down, but she insists on doing it herself. Let me know.
“I certainly don’t envy having your schedule dictated by a tiny person’s sleep schedule.”
“What?” She leaned over my shoulder to glance at the screen.
“Coordinating bedtimes,” I explained, turning the phone so she could thumb through the exchange.
“Don’t ever want your own kids?” she hedged before her breath caught. Scrambling to explain, she said, “I mean, with the right person. Not that we need to think about that. We’re just…”
“Alice.”
“I didn’t mean?—”
“ Alice ,” I chuckled, leaning over to shut her up. “I know what you meant. And no. It’s not in the cards for me.”
“Oh, Greyson,” she breathed, but confusion marred her features when I looked down to study her reaction. “I don’t understand,” she admitted. “I thought you, um…”
“Pulled out on purpose?”
“Yeah,” she admitted sheepishly, a pretty flush coloring her cheeks. I wanted to lick the color from her skin. If we were discussing any other topic, I would’ve.
“I did.” Uncomfortable silence settled between us, weighing my chest down with the burden of history. So many factors influenced my decision on the subject, and none of them were pleasant. It wasn’t a conversation I ever intended to have with another living soul, but her quiet patience wrapped around me like a physical tug.
We hadn’t talked about us .
We’d had mind-blowing sex. Enjoyed each other’s laughter. Merged our families, at least legally speaking. But we hadn’t hedged the what are we subject since she’d climbed into my bed after reminding me she didn’t want my fucking money—not even the untraceable insurance I’d provided for the worst-case scenarios. With a deep sigh, I breathed a truth I’d never thought would surface. “Life behind closed doors was very different from the Hart family’s public appearance. You’ve met Reggie.”
“Sure have,” she muttered, not hiding her irritation.
“Dad was…worse. By the time Ollie was five, I knew I didn’t want him to grow up like I did. He became my responsibility.”
“You’re not even four years older,” she protested, no longer shielding her emotions from me.
Shrugging, I let out the air in my lungs before straightening, carefully thinking that one through. “It was enough. Enough to step between him and Dad. Enough to keep Carlisle’s focus on me. I wanted to influence our mother to keep Ollie preoccupied with activities—book clubs, jump rope, soccer, football, swimming, and anything else that kept him out of the house. When we got older, I made sure Dad gave me both the pressure of our name and the punishment his anger doled out. I became his next in line so Ollie could be…free.”
“I’m sorry,” she breathed, but I shook my head when Alice turned to study me.
“It was what it was. I am who I am because of it, but so is Ollie,” I said, smiling. “He’s a pain in my ass, but at least he’s a happy pain in the ass, even after Carly.”
“I do believe that’s a prerequisite of brotherhood,” she deduced, smiling tentatively. “I have six, and they’re all varying degrees of asshole.”
“Maybe,” I agreed.
“Why do I sense a ‘but’ in this story?”
“Because you know me,” I guessed with a shrug. “By the time I was a teenager, I’d decided I wouldn’t be falling in line anymore. I partied. I did what teenage boys do.”
“Get drunk and chase skirts,” she guessed, unfortunately correctly.
“Something like that,” I admitted, resisting the urge to reach out and take her hand. Whatever was happening between us, this was information she needed to ingest with a clear head. “As you so aptly summarized, Jenilee and I spent our junior year in high school together being idiots. We went our separate ways at the end of the summer, and I fell into mutual mischief with Selene.” She nodded as I confirmed that dossier she’d memorized. Clearing my throat, I admitted what no other soul knew. “I met with a recruiter during my senior year, knowing I didn’t want to fall in line with Dad and Reggie’s plan for my life. My ‘fuck you’ of sorts was enlisting in the one organization our name couldn’t overpower.”
“The Navy was your escape plan ?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Pretty desperate, I know. I just needed to show them I wouldn’t be their pawn.”
“So, you became the United States Government’s?” Was that concern or confusion in her eyes? I wasn’t sure which, but the question seemed sincere enough.
“Desperate times, I guess.” A heaviness settled in my stomach. “I hadn’t told Selene yet—wasn’t sure how to approach it. But uh…she got pregnant.”
“Were you scared?” There wasn’t any judgment in her tone. Curiosity, perhaps. An aggravatingly adorable note of trepidation.
“Of course,” I scoffed. “What seventeen-year-old isn’t scared of being a parent? But I told her we’d do it together. Obviously, money wasn’t an issue. She’d have what she needed.”
“Why do I feel like I’m going to cry by the end of this?”
“Because you’re smart enough to know I don’t have any children wandering around in the world.” I said it like it didn’t affect me, like my heart wasn’t aching all these years later.
“Can I ask what happened?” she breathed, reaching out to lace her fingers through mine as I nodded, shifting my weight.
“She wasn’t thrilled to hear about the Navy. But we agreed, once I got through RTC and NSW back east, that Coronado wasn’t the worst option for the duration of her pregnancy while I kept training. Only,” I shook my head, wishing my throat didn’t still get tight all these years later. It was bullshit to care. “When I got back, there was no baby. She aborted, changed her mind, and said she never signed up to be a military wife. She wanted a Hart’s life, and I gave her scraps instead.”
My aching forehead made me reach up to smooth out the furrow. “I couldn’t…blame her exactly. Her body, and all.” My shrug felt forced, even to me. “But I would’ve done anything for her. For them . My world flipped upside down the day I heard that tiny heartbeat. She had to know that my trust would provide no matter what I did with my body or my time.” I sucked down a breath, blinking away the burning at the bridge of my nose.
“You’re human, Greyson. It’s okay to grieve that. All the what ifs. That doesn’t make you weak,” Alice promised, rubbing gentle lines over my hand. The contact drew my focus before I glanced up to see her eyes welling with tears.
“Harts believe it does. At least, my father did. Selene…vanished. I actually poured a decent chunk of change into trying to find her, only to run into dead ends. It never settled right with me. It was so out of character for the girl I fell in love with that some part of me was in denial for years. When dad died, and I was scouring through his office, I found a record of a wire transfer to one Selene Adler.”
“ No ,” she breathed, shoulders curling in on themselves as her mouth fell open in horror, free hand flying to cover her lips.
“Dad paid her six figures to abort my child and disappear. He buried their communications pretty thoroughly, but it wasn’t better than Jackson Reynolds secure. When I inherited, I brought Jackson in to scrub our system, and he found the list of contingencies. It included a name change and instructions for her to move at least three hundred miles away from Emerald Bay.”
“Jesus,” she breathed, her fingers fluttering over her lips. “Greyson, I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago,” I responded on autopilot, reaching for that wall of numbness I’d placed between me and the world decades ago.
“Does Ollie know?”
“No,” I said firmly, turning to lock eyes with her before blinking away the ache of that past. “You’re the only one. Well. Aside from Selene—or whatever her name is now. I suspected Reggie knew, but when I confronted him, he acted as appalled as I was. Believe it or not, he tried to look after us after Dad died. He’s not…great at it,” I admitted, tugging at the back of my aching neck. That was a generous description, if I was honest. “But he loves the way he was taught to love.”
“That’s not love,” she countered softly, dislodging Chip from where he slept in her lap and gingerly setting him against Captain’s side, where he promptly curled into a ball and closed his dark, watery eyes. Alice tucked the strands of hair away from her face to remove any barrier between us as she studied me, slowly easing over my lap and settling over my groin. “You hurting now. You hurting then —looking for her. That was love.”
“Maybe.” I turned away, needing to be done with this conversation, but Alice wasn’t having it. Her dainty hands squished either side of my face, forcing me back to her.
“After all this time, you haven’t ever…wondered? Wanted a family of your own with the right person?”
“Got a vasectomy.”
A little smirk twisted her lips, and I knew before she opened them I wouldn’t like what she had to say next. “Double birth control wasn’t enough for you? Gotta pull out three.”
“There’s a failure rate for everything.”
“Yeah, but like a one-percent—” Cutting her off with my mouth on hers had gradually become less effective. Evidenced by the fact that the instant I wasn’t kissing her, she was fucking talking again. Relentless. Like a dog with a bone. “—chance, per kind of birth control. That’s taking thorough to a whole new level.”
“Kids are a liability. Collateral,” I explained gruffly. “Having Mattie and Beau in the world— and tied to me —is bad enough. Love is a liability when you run in the circles I choose to.” Pain bounced through her eyes, but she nodded slowly in understanding, shifting back to look down at me, although what she thought she’d find written over my face, I didn’t know. Suddenly, her answer to my next question held more weight than I ever should’ve allowed it to. So much that my chest felt like she’d crush it should she pull out of my grasp. Tightening my hands where they’d settled on her hips, I traced the tip of her nose with mine. “Does that change anything?”
She pressed a kiss to my head, and I didn’t mean to let her touch lull me, but my eyes slid closed when her hands found my jaw. This woman had a way of liquefying the pain of life and leaving only her scent in my lungs. She kissed each eyelid slowly before leaning back and stroking her chilled thumbs over my cheeks. Her touch was startlingly soothing. Thoughtfully, she studied me before shaking her head once.
What in the hell had I done to earn her affection?
Not taking the time to worry about that, I melted into her as she wrapped her arms around me. Refusing to be left out, my cock made its proximity known with a little jerk that earned a deliciously breathy laugh and a rock of her hips.
“Grey, you and I may not be…conventional,” she hedged carefully before huffing a laugh that dispelled a bit of tension. “But as far as my family is concerned, you’re one of us now. They’re loud and dysfunctional,” she said with a shake of her head, smiling down at me endearingly. “Meddlesome as fuck, and thirteen kinds of overwhelming , but…they’re yours now, too. Milo will always lend an ear if you want a man in your life with an emotional capacity beyond a thimble. Jameson is terrified of emotions, but Rhyett and Paxton like to talk. You don’t have to carry everything alone, Greyson.”
Slowly, her words settled into my bones. The sincerity in them rattled my grasp on what the hell this was supposed to be as she forked her fingers through my hair, brushing it away from my face. Her disarming caress sent warmth swelling in my ribs, cock now straining against the zipper of my jeans.
Barely clinging to the leash on my emotions, I lifted my chin and demanded, “Come here,” pleased when she eagerly obeyed.
This kiss was soft. Tentative. Embodying our confusion as the lines in our dynamic blurred into a smear of chalk on wet cement. I couldn’t find it in me to care. For the first time in my life, I wanted to be exactly where I was. A sensation that amplified as she rocked over my dick, her supple lips brushing over mine.
“You told me we do this at my pace,” she breathed between unsettled kisses. “But I need you to know that you matter too, Grey. If we’re calling a shot that affects both of us, we do it together.”
Nodding, I wrapped my arms around her back, straightening to claim her mouth with mine. Her hands fell to the hem of my Henley, stripping it up and over my head, as I raised my arms for her. Mouths colliding, my body demanded hers while my mind processed that promise.
Together.
I’d never known a true together . My parents and Reggie wanted to pull our strings like a taut marionette, ensuring each movement was their desired performance. My need to protect Ollie and his kids still influenced our friendship to some extent. Selene had bowed down to the power of Carlisle Hart without so much as telling me what she was up against. My military career reinforced that I was to yield to a superior’s beck and call—property of the US government.
Together was a foreign thing. Something other men experienced. It was either me against the world. Or me beneath the boot of my latest ruler.
Alice’s giggle broke the trance of allure her body offered beneath my hands, and I smiled against her lips before she leaned back and said, “We smell like wet dogs.”
Head thrown back, my laugh reverberated off the ceiling. “Way to set the mood, baby.”
“Just being honest.”
“I’ll show you honest,” I growled, rotating us for the edge of the bed. “If I don’t get inside you in about thirty seconds, I think I might die.”
“How do you feel about shower sex?” she quipped cheerfully, a smug curl to those beautiful lips.
Standing with her in my arms, I answered, “Like you better hold on, my Belle.”
She did as she was told, and I lumbered into the ensuite with my woman in my arms. I may have unearthed the past, but I could bury its ache in Alessandra Rhodes-Hart.
Uncle Reggie
Seriously, Greyson? Banning me from Hart House’s approved list is below you. I’m leaving for Paris tomorrow, and we need to talk.
Uncle Reggie
Greyson, call me.
Reginald Hart
I know you’re unhappy with me, but you need to put your ego aside and call me back.
It’s becoming urgent.
Reginald Hart
You know I can see that you read my messages, don’t you?
Stop being a child about this.
Reginald Hart
Call me now.
This can’t wait for me to be back stateside, Grey.
“It’s nice to see her like this,” Royce said under his breath as he elbowed me in the ribs on Sunday morning. After the most relaxed weekend of my life—in no small part thanks to the intentional absence of my phone—the four of us met up for a Sunday brunch. It was Alice’s idea, thinking it wouldn’t feel so formal, in case we got uncomfortable. It had been a surprisingly pleasant experience. Mostly because Alice seemed the most comfortable I’d seen her with someone in our circle.
Royce’s jerked chin directed my gaze to our wives, where they walked several paces ahead, arm-in-arm, through the street festival Alice spotted on our drive into the city. Her dark hair fell to her lower back, swaying with each step, while Miranda spun her dirty blonde into some fancy clip.
Irritated, I pulled out my incessant cell phone and glanced at the screen in a poor attempt at discretion.
Reginald Hart
Call me when you’re done playing house, or I don’t want to hear about it when this blows up in your face.
A bit disgruntled, I scowled as I pocketed the damn thing. With the utmost disrespect, my uncle could get fucked after the way he’d spoken about Alice. But his persistence was disarming if nothing else.
“Need to get that?” Royce asked, nodding to the insipid device.
“No, I’m sorry for interrupting,” I said, clearing my throat. “I haven’t really seen much about your bride,” I admitted as my phone buzzed for what must’ve been the dozenth time that morning. Royce shook his head in answer.
“She’s not like Alice—the way she grabs those fuckers by the balls and bends them into submission—she’s stayed as far from the spotlight as humanly possible. It’s all a bit much, you know?”
“I’ve been…impressed, to say the least, with how Alice has handled this transition.”
“It probably helps that she ran the PR team for a while. She knew what being with a man like us entailed.”
A man like us. What an intriguing concept. Royce owned a media company uptown. Technically, he was a competitor, but we’d formed a casual alliance at a charity golf tournament a few years back and would connect for a round every now and then. His father was still alive and well, an active member of their board of directors, despite his attempted retirement a few years back. We’d briefly considered acquiring the Ashcroft group but ultimately decided against it.
“She never really seemed to care what they had to say about her. Doesn’t pay much attention unless it’s a client they’re blasting.”
“All the better,” he said. “They can be vicious when they want to be. Miranda let her guard down once with one of our chefs, who took pertinent information to the press. We pressed charges since she had violated her NDA. But…it didn’t erase the damage done, and she’s kind of stuck to herself since. Can’t really trust anyone these days.”
“Brutal,” I noted. “Alice is a good woman. Salt of the earth. I would be beyond shocked if she ever did anything to hurt a moth, much less a mother.”
“That’s what Miranda said. She just has this gut instinct that we’re all supposed to do something together, although she can’t place her finger on what.”
“You should have seen her with the puppy Friday. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so distraught over an animal.”
“My girl’s the same way. We have six rescues.”
“Six?!” I balked, barely reeling in exactly how appalling that concept was. Two was more than plenty. To my relief, Royce laughed.
“Yep. Got a whole pack. Listen, Greyson—” He tugged on his neck, and I braced for the inevitable. Usually, when someone initiates contact, they need something, especially when they pull out my first name. Like they knew me when they didn’t. I just hadn’t heard what yet. “I bought a table at the Performing Arts silent auction next month, and I’ve got four seats still sitting open. I haven’t run it by the wife, but judging by that,” he motioned toward where our girls were now enamored with a spoon art jewelry vendor. All the money for the finest accessories in the world, and these two wanted warped spoons. “I think it’s safe to say we’d love for the two of you to join. Already paid for—you’d just be saving my pride by filling the seats.”
Chuckling, I said, “I’ll have to run it by her, but I’ll take a wild guess and say as long as the calendar is open, she would enjoy that.”
“I’ll send you the details,” he promised.
“Sounds good.”
“I hope this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship.”
“The sentiment is shared,” I agreed amicably. The strange part was that it felt authentic.
It wasn’t until we were home, and Alice tucked herself into her art room, that I finally fished my phone from my pocket and dialed Reggie’s number. Grinding my teeth, I counted all four rings before his gruff answer.
“Christ, it’s about time.”
“Is Emmaline okay?” I asked flatly. No doubt Ellington would tell me if anything was actually wrong.
“What?”
“Answer the question. Is Emma okay?”
“Yes, but?—”
I cut him off, unwilling to entertain whatever scheme he’d concocted to re-enter our lives. “What about Ellington? Was he in a life-altering accident I don’t know about?”
“No. Don’t be rid?—”
“Aunt Viv?” I snapped. “Gwen or the babies?” I pressed. My cousin and his wife were due with twins any day now. It’s why the old fucker flew to France in the first place.
“All fine,” he ground out. “But, Grey?—”
“It’s Greyson to you.”
“You can’t be serious.” His snarl was deeply satisfying, accompanied by the mental image of that vein in his forehead pulsing.
“And yet, here I am. Listen, Reginald. We’ve said all we need to say to each other at this point. Obviously, this isn’t about business, or you would’ve sent it over official channels.”
“I have information you might find beneficial,” he declared snootily. I just laughed.
“Then I look forward to hearing it when you present it to the board next month.”
“Greyson, you are being played , my boy. Our circle is riddled with vipers—that detective always sniffing around, for starters. But you’re so busy playing house with your little girlfriend , you’re ignoring what’s right in front of you?—”
“I’ll let you save your breath, old man ,” I bit back, ready to hear him call me his boy for the last goddamned time. “I’ll ask for your opinions if you decide to show Alice and I the same level of respect you expect to be shown yourself. Unless you’ve been calling to apologize for the way you spoke about my wife —or apologizing to her for said disrespect—this conversation is over. Tell you what, you call back if either of those are on the agenda.” Hanging up a phone hadn’t been that satisfying since I could slam one back into the cradle to prove a point.