Chapter 13 #2
“Well,” Madi says. “An ‘insider’ told that Grey was stranded with a mystery woman from the storm, and some sleazy reporter snuck into the diner. Betty didn’t know who she was talking to, and they weren’t asking a lot of probing questions, so she felt safe, you know?
Since Savvy was named as the sweetheart this year for the town fair, she got excited.
” Madi speaks so quickly that her words all blend together.
I’d groan if my throat wasn’t in the process of closing up on me. The last thing I need is to be the town sweetheart. Attending the fair as a resident and all its booths, stands, and rides is chaos enough, but becoming the focus of the entire event is more than I can handle.
“Once they got Savvy’s name, they did some digging,” Brax says, not meeting my eyes.
“I’m sure it’s just someone looking for a payday, you know, since your podcast is doing so well,” Clover says on a shaky breath.
“I’m not following,” I admit.
“Short version.” Braxton sucks in a gulp of air.
“When Grey went ‘missing’ during the storm”—he uses air quotes, but I’m still struggling to follow along—“Betty let it slip that Grey was getting himself a baby. That, coupled with the two of you shacked up together during the hurricane, got mouths talking. But then, somehow, your latest podcast had a personal conversation between the two of you, and everything blew up. Almost immediately, there was a security breach at the surrogacy center and…both of your profiles were leaked.”
“And then photos started circulating online,” Clover says. Her voice quivers, and I know whatever she’ll say next will be bad. “You look so young in them, Sav. Too young.”
No. No, no, no.
“Now we have media here, covering the destruction of Hurricane Isolde, and the savages who pretend to be reporters but are really just searching for clickbait.” Braxton’s tone carries a bitter edge. It wasn’t that long ago that the same tabloids harassed Madi because of his family.
Moose steps close and quietly slips an iPad in front of me, open to a webpage for celebrity gossip with an image of me dancing topless. The headline reads “From Center Stage and Crashing Cars to Rent-a-Womb: How Savannah Monroe Snagged the Elusive Billionaire.”
As my worlds collide, my vision blurs, and my lungs burn as though I’m inhaling battery acid. Madi, my best friend for over ten years, swims in front of my face as I get lightheaded.
Secrets I’ve tried to keep buried and far away from my new life are now in vivid color for the world to see and judge.
“The scornful glares make sense now,” I whisper to no one in particular.
Grey swipes up on the iPad, and the screen goes blank.
“Someone had better start explaining what the fuck is going on,” he roars.
If it were anyone else, I’d fight the hostility in his tone, but I’m numb. My limbs tingle; even my lips feel cold.
There’s only one man who would’ve had access to those photos.
And I happen to know he was released from prison not that long ago.
I stand, and the world tilts, or maybe I do, because everything quickly goes peacefully, thankfully, black.
A low rumble of words stirs me from a restless sleep. The second I open my eyes, I find my legs ensnared in twisted sheets.
Wait.
The light blue walls and the matching coastal bedding tell me I’m at the Hideaway, but why?
My stomach revolts as images of the day come back to me.
“Do you often pass out from stress?” Grey’s low voice has me clutching my chest.
“Why are you sitting in the corner like a creep?” The bed is covered in mud. Shit. So am I.
It takes thirty frustrating seconds to unwind myself from the sheets, but when I attempt to stand, Grey places a hand on my shoulder and holds me down.
The guy moves like a freaking ninja.
“What are you doing?” I hiss. “I’m ruining all Madi’s new linens.”
“She’s married to a billionaire. She’ll be fine.” He’s so droll, I could scream. “We need to talk.”
My throat instantly closes.
“It seems we’re the new talk of the town. And not just small-town talk, but worldwide, and now we have a predicament.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Less than ten minutes, but when I tried to tuck you into bed, you kicked as though I were trying to tie you down.”
Well, the tangled sheets make sense now.
Ugh, focus. I wish my brain didn’t feel like mush, because I need to be on my A-game with this guy. As much as I love annoying him, I can’t trust him with my past. If I do, I run the risk of losing the only family that has ever loved me. I have to spin this.
“You were probably dehydrated because you don’t drink enough water, and I know you haven’t been eating enough. Then our…situation, and well, here you are. Clover is so freaked out, she let Chief drive her to Walmart to get you some hydration packets. Now answer me, do you faint often?”
Not in years.
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
He raises one perfectly sculpted golden brow. I bet he gets them waxed. There’s no way that arch is natural.
“Tell me about the pictures.”
My pulse increases, and dizziness makes me nauseous.
“Lie down, Monroe.” He hovers over me, but my eyes must be out of focus because I see two of him. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Nothing.” I attempt to shrug him off.
“It’s not nothing. You looked this way when I first found you in the storm too. What the hell is happening?”
“It’s called vasovagal syncope.”
He repeats the words under his breath. “And?” His hands smooth down my arms until his fingers press against my wrist.
Is he— “Are you taking my pulse?”
He nods without speaking.
“I said I’m fine.” Tugging on my arm does nothing to release it from his hold. The guy has inhumanly strong fingers. “It’s something that happens sometimes in extreme stress. It’s not even that dangerous. It’s like my nervous system overexaggerates, and I pass out to protect it.”
“Monroe, I’ve gone nose to nose with you over admittedly stupid shit, but we’ve battled, and you’ve never passed out. What’s going on?”
“Exactly what I just told you.”
“You’re fighting with me now, but your pulse is evening out, not escalating. So what happened earlier to make you pass out to protect yourself?”
“We’re not friends, Patch. I’m not someone you can fix.” The acid in my words doesn’t even faze him. “I don’t owe you a goddamn thing.”
He releases my arm, and my heart starts hammering in my chest again. It’s not fair that he’s the one who holds the salve to my anxieties.
“No, you’re right.” He takes a step back. “You’re not my friend.” His towering form retreats, but as he reaches the door, he casts a devastatingly alarming grin my way. “Now you’re my problem.”
The bedroom door slams before I’ve fully processed what he said. It’s so preposterous that I laugh, slightly hysterically. The man has a severe savior complex.
“Savvy and Grey are getting married?” Pops shouts and hoots downstairs with so much glee in his tone that I bolt upright in bed and scramble to the door. I’ve never taken the stairs so quickly in my life, and when I skid to a stop in the family room, all eyes are on me.
Pops sits proud as a peacock in his recliner. “Hands down, this will be the most explosive wedding of the century.”
“There’s no wedding. Who says there’s a wedding?
” My voice cracks with disbelief, and Madi starts rapidly plucking her hair elastic on her wrist until Brax wraps his hand around it to stop her.
Somehow, I know this was her idea, but no matter how well-meaning she is, a marriage to Sir-Fix-a-Lot will never happen. “Grey, tell them.”
He says nothing, and when I find his glare across the room, my eyes widen. I’m shaking my head as though I can see the trainwreck before it actually happens.
“It’s not the worst idea in the world,” Braxton says.
“Not the worst idea? Did you hit your head or something?” The mud that’s dried to my skin cracks with every movement. I feel like a snake shedding its skin, except what’s beneath the scales is raw and too exposed.
“Ya know it’s right, Mr. Fix-It,” Pops taunts, and I’m normally his biggest cheerleader, but this time, I’m in the crossfire too.
“I can see your head spinning over there, trying to solve everyone’s problems. Come on, Fix-It.
We’ve all seen the way ya pine after our girl.
It’s no secret y’all been fooling around for months. We’re old, not blind.”
“Mind your business, old man,” Grey growls. They’ve formed a very strange affection with each other since Braxton first moved here. They drive each other up the wall for sport but have an understanding that works for them.
“I’m not marrying him.”
The side conversations carry on as though I’m not even here.
“I bet ya couldn’t handle it anyway,” Pops says, garnering a soul-crushing glare from Grey. “Marriage or Savvy Sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart. Huh.” Grey scoffs, but I know Pops is antagonizing him into action. “If I were to ever marry, it would last forever because I don’t fail.”
Pops stands from his recliner and rocks back on his heels. Madi’s grandfather has never met a boundary he couldn’t scale, not even Grey’s seemingly impenetrable walls. “Prove it.”
God, these two revert into derelict teenagers whenever they’re in the same room. Pops doesn’t surprise me a bit, but Grey? Never in a million years did I think I’d see the day that someone goaded him into childish behavior.
I honestly didn’t think Grey had it in him. From everything I’ve heard, he’s never behaved like a child, not even when he was one.
“What the hell is happening?” I say with my arms raised. Someone has to be the adult here and defuse these two, it might as well be me. “We’re not placing bets or daring anyone into marriage. Especially not when it’s me you’re talking about.”
“You’ve been lurking around here, fixing everyone and everything ’xcept yourself since you arrived.” Pops steps closer to Grey. “Ace said it was ’cause you were hiding.”
Oh, shit. Pops causes enough trouble on his own—Madi has the receipts to prove it—but Pops and Ace together was like kicking a hornet’s nest and expecting not to get stung.
Grey flexes, strength rippling through him as though he’s one corded muscle. “Don’t push me, old man.”
Freaking Pops holds out one bony finger and does just that—he pushes Grey in the shoulder with enough strength to move his arm if only an inch, but it’s the action that pushes Grey into motion.
He stalks me slowly in full predator mode. Even Madi takes a step away from him. His arm wraps around my waist, he bends his knees, then his warm breath hits my ear.
“We’re in a shitty predicament here, sweetheart.
” His words are barely audible, but I feel them everywhere.
“Do you want to explain your past or focus on the smoke screen a fake wedding would provide? The choice is yours, but it’s my world that’s put you on display, so I’ll be the one to protect you.
” I shudder involuntarily against him. “The choice is yours, past or future?”
“What kind of choice is that?” My words aren’t whispered, and it has all our family staring at me like I have twelve heads.
“Yours, Monroe. The choice is always yours. Past or future sounds a hell of a lot better than secrets or lies, don’t you think?”
If only I truly had a choice.
“Past or future,” he repeats, this time loudly enough for the room to hear.
“I don’t like being backed into a corner, Grey.” The steel of my conviction is finally forcing the wobble out of my tone.
“I’m not the one who backed you in, sweetheart. But now I’ll be the one to pull you out. It’s up to you how we go about that.”
“What happened to you hating me?”
A slow, methodical smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
Then, his mouth is at my ear—it’s a seduction all its own. “What happened to Patch Daddy?”
“Not going to happen.”
“Oh, but it will. And I don’t hate the way we make up.” Did he just…moan into my ear? “But I do hate that you’re in a scandal because of me, and I will correct that. With or without you.”
Pressing both hands to his chest, I attempt to shove him away, but he’s like a flipping mountain, and the frustration of his strength seeps into my tone. “It’s not because of you, you egotistical narcissistic twat-goblin.”
“Twat-goblin. That’s a favorite of mine.” Cian chuckles.
Grey releases me so suddenly, my limbs fall to my sides as though he dipped them in cement.
“We’re getting fucking married,” Grey announces as though he’s the dang mayor, then slams the door on his way out, while I stand in a complete stupor with everyone looking to me for answers I don’t have and can’t begin to know where to find them.