Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SAVVY
As soon as Grey brings the car to an abrupt stop, I jump out. Clover and Chief are already on the porch with Pops, who’s pacing back and forth.
“Where is it?” I ask, rushing up the steps. Grey’s scorching body heat sticks to me like a shadow—inseparable, yet impossible to reach.
Clover pulls her cardigan tightly around herself. It’s her coping mechanism, but since she bought all the Taylor Swift versions covered in stars, it makes her look even smaller and younger than she is.
“It was on the porch,” she says, pointing to where our mailboxes hang in between our two front doors.
I haven’t seen our duplex since the hurricane hit, and while Clover’s half looks unaffected, there are windows boarded up on my side.
Cian must have been busy this past week.
Car doors slam behind me as Braxton, Madi, and Sage arrive.
“Who was it addressed to?” Grey asks, flipping the cover over with the toe of his shoe.
“There was no name, so I opened it,” Clover whispers. Madi takes the porch steps two at a time and wraps her arms around Clover.
Fear makes my vision blur as I stare at the box on the floor. There’s something strangely familiar about it. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.
“Clover,” Madi says gently. “That quote, on the note, isn’t that from one of your books?”
“The fuck?” Grey bellows, causing Clover to shrink in on herself even more.
I elbow him in the gut, willing him with my eyes to calm down before he triggers my poor friend even more.
Clover’s shoulders curl in as though she’s trying to turn herself into a ball. “Yeah, it’s from My Deadly Vow.”
“Let me get this straight.” Grey’s foot taps a menacing beat against the wooden planks. “Monroe and I have a possible mole and an ex out to ruin us, and now Clover has a stalker? In Happiness, Georgia?”
“Nice recap there, son. Way to put those big brains of yours to work.” Pops chuckles. It’s as though he truly can’t help riling Grey up.
Grey pinches the bridge of his nose and counts out loud to ten.
“A coincidence?” Braxton asks.
“Bad timing, maybe,” I mutter. “What do we do with this thing?”
“Already got the boys in blue on their way to pick it up and take it to the station for forensics,” Chief says with his thumbs tucked into the waistband of his jeans. He rocks back on his heels, and you get the full impact of his self-importance.
“Why does it feel like the entire world is trying to suck the happy out of Happiness all of a sudden?” Clover’s words are a whisper of a breath.
She’s physically shaking, and not for the first time, I wish she’d let us in, give us her whole story.
But I know better than most that she’ll only share when she’s ready.
Self-protection is more than a habit for her—it might be the line between fiction and reality.
“The common denominator is us,” Grey says. “Braxton and me. Since we came to town, we’ve brought a whole lot of damage. It’s followed me since birth.”
“Martyrdom isn’t typically your style, Patch. I’m disappointed.” My sarcasm is thick.
“It’s not martyrdom if it’s true,” he bites back. His tongue is sharp, but so is mine.
“Moving on,” Braxton says, kneeling before the box and poking at the fabric with a stick. Where the hell did he find that? “Regardless of why the sky is falling, I think it’s safe to say that it is, or at least someone wants us to believe it is. So there’s only one solution for now.”
“What’s that?” I’m out of suggestions. If he has one, I’m all ears.
“Savvy, your place needs new windows. Grey, yours needs rehab, and Clover, it’s just not safe for you to stay here alone, so you’ll all move into the Hideaway with us until we get some answers.”
Pops whoops with both fists in the air.
Greyson and Madi talk over each other—Grey furious, Madi as animated as a cartoon.
Clover finally collapses onto the nearby porch swing.
Chief nods as though this were his idea.
And me? I’m mentally tallying how many rooms are still available at the inn and know that my day is about to go from what the fuck? to fuck no. My meddling besties are going to force us to cohabitate again.
Before I can speak, Pops releases an ear-splitting whistle to silence everyone.
“This will be perfect,” Madi grins. “Since you and Grey are officially engaged now—”
“What?” Clover jumps to her feet, her own fears pushed aside as she rushes past Braxton and grabs my left hand.
Crap. I’ll have to fill her in on the details as soon as possible.
“The ring is being sized,” Grey mutters.
“It’s what? What ring?” I’m back to glaring at Grey.
“Your ring, my honesty-challenged angel.” His tone is so slippery, so dark with hidden promises, that I shiver despite my boiling temper.
“You’re engaged? For real?” Clover’s words tumble from her mouth with supersonic speed while a crease forms between her brows.
“Yes, Clover. For real.” At least Grey drops the attitude when he’s talking to my shaken friend. “We’ve been…secretly seeing each other for a while.” The smirk on this man needs a swift slap to knock it away.
“Not so secret, if you ask me.” Pops laughs with his whole entire body. “Remember at the Cozy Cup Festival when we saw—”
Madi slaps a hand over his mouth to silence him.
“This past week made us realize that it wasn’t hate we were experiencing, but love. Right, angel?”
Oh, the ways I’m going to kill Greyson Reyes.
He leans in and presses his mouth to my ear. “Go along with it, Monroe. We need Pops to believe.”
Mother freaking porcupines.
“Yup, Drill Bit,” I say through pinched lips. “That’s right.”
I attempt to put space between Grey and me, but the asshole grins, and before I can blink, his hand knots in the hair at the back of my head, and he pulls me to him for a bruising kiss I only wish I could be unaffected by.
He kisses like he fucks—hard, dominating, soul-crushing—and my knees wobble as he controls my mouth as though he’s the architect of my desire.
No one should be able to cause a reaction like this from a freaking kiss.
Grey finally releases my lips but keeps his so close to mine that we’re nearly touching. I’m inhaling his cinnamon scent, and my only saving grace is that his eyes are as murky as mine.
The chemistry of us affects him just as much as it does me.
“I still prefer Patch Daddy.” His whispered words heat my already flushed cheeks.
“This wedding will be spectacular,” Pops shouts, startling me. “The event of the year, once we get all those dang protesters out of here.”
That’s enough to douse the butterflies in my stomach, and I push away from Grey.
“What the hell happened to everyone supporting everyone in Happiness?” I murmur. Driving through town, I could feel their wrath like a third-degree sunburn.
“It ain’t the whole town,” Pop says. “Just a handful who’s rallying the outsiders. There are some real green-eyed monsters in the thirties set, ya know.”
“Green-eyed monsters?” Grey sounds as though he’s hit his limit for bullshit, and for once, we’re on the same page.
“Yup, he’s right,” Chief says. “Bethany Jane’s panties are in a real twist over Savvy being named town sweetheart.
Then news broke that she snagged the last eligible billionaire, and Bethany damn near lost her noggin.
She’s probably thinkin’ she can get Savvy booted from the court before she’s crowned at the town fair. ”
“The last eligible billionaire? I’m not a slab of beef at a meat auction,” Grey grumbles.
“You’re really obsessed with those, aren’t you?” I ask.
He glares at me for three long beats, but when he first moved here, he was raging about meat auctions too.
“A sign for a literal meat auction was the first thing I saw when I got to Happiness. Of course I checked it out. And news flash, it’s fucking disgusting.”
“You’re just a snob.”
“In fairness, it was the first thing I saw too,” Braxton says. “Maybe we should look into rearranging some of the signage in town once we get through whatever the hell is happening here.”
“Focus, kids.” The irony of eighteen-year-old Sage wrangling the wayward adults makes me smirk. “Bethany is being a child and creating an old-school smear campaign against Savvy. Unfortunately, Grey is the CEO of a media empire, therefore national gossip sites are also running with it.”
“And someone is feeding them this bullshit,” Braxton grumbles under his breath. It wasn’t that long ago he and Madi were at the center of a similar storm. “They do put us on a weird pedestal. They all want to marry us, but when we find someone, they’re the first to hit the streets in riot gear.”
“Champagne problems,” Clover whispers, making me smile. But if she tugs her cardigan any more tightly around herself, the threads are sure to snap.
“Bethany will get over herself,” Madi says. “But I agree that having us all together at the Hideaway is the way to go. The boys are already heading back to their dorms, so it’ll be fine.”
Fine. I’ve been fine my whole life, but suddenly, fine feels like a prison sentence.
A city police car pulls into the driveway, and we all turn to watch as the chief of police steps out. “Afternoon,” he drawls.
“Hey, Tim.” Braxton shakes the officer’s hand.
We form a semicircle around the box as Chief Rigsby slips on some rubber gloves and inspects it.
While he questions Clover, I sneak out to the side of the house to assess the damage to my windows.
It’s not as bad as it could have been, but they’ll all need to be replaced.
“Are you going to be able to handle this, Monroe?”
Freaking Grey.
“Are you?” I fire back.
“I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.”
“And what? That’s what I am to you? A challenge?”
He nods, but the heat in his expression practically sears my clothing to smithereens.
“Since the day I met you at the Firefly Pub on October twelfth.”
Yeah, I’ll never forget our first encounter at that bar either, but I don’t remember the exact date.