Chapter 24
Brooks
I ’m a fucking liar.
Desperate, weak, and utterly at her mercy. We’ve established this. And I despise it. As I sit on the bottom step of the courthouse, I can’t escape her words. The truth in them. She’s right, I don’t want to let her go. Not now. Not ever. To my surprise, the judge’s ruling might have been a fortunate turn of events.
She’s still mine.
At least for three more months.
I notice one guy hanging around with a camera, leaning against a tree, staring at me. A muscle in my jaw twitches. Asshole better keep his distance.
As soon as I watch Gracyn emerge from the courthouse doors, my mind races. A plan forms. It’s half-baked, impulsive, and probably the worst plan I’ve ever had. Then again, getting married while being drunk wasn’t exactly my crowning moment of brilliance. But this? This is a now-or-never situation. No time to think. Just act.
“Gracyn,” I call, quickly crossing to the other side of the stairway entrance.
She arches an eyebrow and glares at me like she could freeze hell. She’s been crying, and I resist the urge to pull her into my arms and offer comfort.
“I’m sorry for being an ass. This entire thing blindsided me. I didn’t handle it right.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to your hot-and-cold,” she retorts.
Her words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Not an attribute that I’d like her to be used to.
She dismisses me with a casual wave. “I’ll see you in three months.” With that, she turns on her heels and starts down the stairs.
“Wait,” I call out.
She pauses, and while I can’t see her eyes, I can feel her rolling them.
“Can I hitch a ride to the airport?”
To my surprise, she pivots and says, “Whatever.” There must be something seriously wrong with me clinging to the idea that we could work, like a soldier desperately holding the line when the war’s been lost. She takes a few steps, then looks over her shoulder, impatience flickering in her eyes. “You coming?”
I hesitate, knowing there’s no logic in chasing her. Internally I scoff, has there ever been logic used with Gracyn? The camera guy clicks away like he’s trying to capture every moment of this.
“Do you want a ride or not?” she asks, sounding slightly annoyed.
Am I willing to lose?
The question hangs in the air for a second longer than it should, then I throw caution to the wind because, honestly? Fuck it. It’s clear she has feelings for me. She can try to mask it, try to push me away, but I saw it in her eyes the second I walked into the courtroom. No matter how hard she tries to pretend she hates me now, there’s something here. Something real.
I catch up with her, and we fall into step together, the silence thick and heavy. I blow out a breath, needing to move past this awkwardness. When we reach the parking lot, she pulls a remote out of her purse, pressing the unlock button. To my surprise, a red Jeep’s lights flash. I shoot her a curious glance and raise a questioning brow.
“The Beamer was my mom’s. I had a job interview and figured it would make me seem more professional,” she explains.
I can picture her in both. One, the sleek, sexy, polished side of Gracyn and the other wild, sporty, and free. They’re equally my favorite.
“Mind if I drive?”
She lets out a small gasp, holding the keys to her chest. “Lucy is my baby. I’m not sure I trust you.” Her lips twitch. “Do you actually know how to drive, Mr. New York?”
There she is , the bold and beautiful Gracyn. Her teasing tone and playful smirk. The woman who knows how to keep me on my toes.
My laughter echoes through the packed parking garage. “I started driving when I was thirteen.”
She narrows her eyes as if she doesn’t believe me, and I realize how little she knows about me.
“I didn’t grow up in New York,” I explain. “I grew up in Georgia.”
“Really?”
“Why is that so shocking?”
She bites her bottom lip and shrugs. “You scream big city. Like you were born in a suit with a cell phone in one hand and a briefcase in another.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “That’s funny, ’cause you haven’t even seen me in a suit.”
“Are you telling me you don’t wear a tailored suit every day? With a matching belt and shoes? And a fancy tie to pull it all together?”
I lick my lips, owning her spot-on observation. I can’t help but nod as I murmur, “Most days.”
Her laughter rings out, and for a moment, the tension we’ve been holding onto dissipates. It’s just us—teasing, flirting, and forgetting the chaos we’ve created. And damn, it feels good. Which makes it more important that my plan works.
“Here,” she says, right before tossing me the keys.
Perfect. Nothing like the present to learn a little more about your husband .
I’m not on the freeway, but a few minutes before, she stares at the exit we should be taking and stiffens as she points. “Brooks, you missed the exit.”
I smirk, not even trying to hide it. “Hmm. I did?”
She twists in her seat. “Where are you going?”
I shrug, staring ahead. “Grand Canyon.”
“Brooks! That’s like almost four hours away,” she exclaims.
“I know.”
Her mouth falls open, but nothing comes out. After a moment of thinking, she levels me with a raised brow. “I thought you didn’t need to manipulate a woman to have her be with you?”
“What are you talking about? This is a court-ordered mandate.” I love when she wrinkles her nose. It’s cute, stubborn, and sexy all at the same time. “I understood the assignment.”
She lets out a soft, frustrated hum, her gaze fixed firmly out the passenger side window. “You’re prolonging the inevitable.”
Maybe I am. But maybe the judge was on to something. Maybe he witnessed our chemistry. Perhaps he sensed the static heat between us. We just needed a little push to explore our feelings. I’m helping steer us in that direction.
The further we get from the flashing lights and clamor of the casinos, the more my shoulders loosen, releasing the tension from this morning’s activities. The desert landscape passes us by in a blur of oranges and yellows as I focus on the road ahead. And her.
“Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon?” she asks, breaking the silence.
“I’ve seen pictures of me and my folks there when I was four, but I don’t remember it,” I reply. “I’m sure you’ve been a million times.”
She tilts her head from side to side. “Not a million. But I definitely remember going.”
“That’s surprising. You seem to forget a lot of things.”
She puffs out air and playfully slaps me on the arm. “That was a low blow.”
I watch as the apprehension melts from her body and words. I’m trying not to get ahead of myself, but she wants this, too.
With her bare feet propped up on the dashboard and eyes closed, she basks in the warmth from the sun. Her dress rides up high on her thighs, revealing her tanned and toned legs, and for a split second, I forget how to breathe. When she smiled at me in the courtroom, I knew I made the right decision to come.
My phone rings. I glance down at the console, and Judith’s name flashes on the screen. Talk about ruining the moment.
Gracyn glances at me, concerned. “What if it’s about Presley?”
I shake my head, frustration building. “Presley’s at Addison’s house.” There is no reason for her to be calling me right now. Things have been tense between us since she called me out last Friday. Maybe because she was right. Maybe because I felt ambushed, by my own nanny, of all people. But just in case there’s a problem at the penthouse, I play the voicemail on speaker.
“Hey, Brooks,. I just wanted to let you know that Addison had to work late tonight so she’s picking Presley up in the morning. Hope everything is going all right. I know Vegas is the last place you wanted to go so I’m here if you need anything. Okay, bye.”
“Last place you wanted to go, huh?” Gracyn softly asks, adjusting in her seat so her body is facing me.
I roll my head in her direction. “She has no idea how wrong she is. I’m exactly where I want to be.”
She clears her throat, a blush creeping up her neck. “Look, there’s a Target. Pull in so I can get a change of clothes.”
“I like where your head’s at. I like to pull in … and out. Fast and hard. With you screaming my name.”
“Brooks!”
“Yep. Just like that.”
“Oh my god,” she says, turning red as I steer the car into the parking lot. “Just park.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
An hour later, we’re back on the road with snacks, water, and dressed more casually. As the miles roll by, memories of our childhoods, parents, and life in general flows freely. It’s a change for me, as I’ve always guarded my personal life to prevent it from being used against me in some way. Past experiences with women have shown that they are typically uninterested in anything beyond what I can give them financially. But Gracyn’s different. She listens, truly listens, her gaze unwavering. Unlike the others, she’s not nodding along absentmindedly, waiting for her turn to speak. She hangs on to every word. It’s unusual to have someone care about my life beyond my wallet.
Once we see signs for the Grand Canyon, Gracyn directs me to a park with a lesser-known trail. The canyon stretches out before us as we walk toward the edge. The sight that greets us is nothing short of breathtaking.
“Isn’t it amazing?” she murmurs.
I nod, staring at the vast expanse of oranges and reds, following it as far as my eyes can reach. The air is different here. Thin and crisp with the altitude weighing on my chest. We casually walk along the rim of the canyon, stopping occasionally to take in the different viewpoints. Originally, we planned to walk a mile, but the more we’re here, the more invested we are in continuing further. It’s how I imagine our relationship. I’m not here for the short version. I’m here for the long haul.
At one point, we stop and sit down on a rocky outcropping, dangling our legs over the edge. She pulls out her phone and scoots over, resting her legs on top of mine, and takes a picture of us.
“The day we’ll remember our annulment being denied,” she jokes, sliding her phone back in her hidden pocket underneath her skirt.
She turns to look at me when I let out a heavy exhale. The breeze blows her loose tendrils of hair into her face, so I run my fingers down the side of her cheek, tucking them behind her ear.
“I’m going to kiss you,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper as I cradle her face.
She nods as I lean in, stopping a breath away from her lips.
“Tell me you want me,” I murmur against her lips, my heart pounding in my chest.
The moment she tries to pull back and question me, I grab her and bring her close and press my lips against hers. The kiss is fierce, filled with urgency and hunger, silencing her unspoken question. Through the desperate kiss, I convey everything that I’m feeling, asking for her surrender without words. The taste of her lips and the heat of her body fill my senses, and I lose myself in the moment, driven by the intensity of our connection.
She breaks the kiss and presses her forehead gently against mine, shaking her head with a quiet sigh. “I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Breaking three hearts,” she murmurs, dropping her gaze.
Therein lies the root of my obsession with her. She’s putting Presley first. She truly cares about how she fits into this equation. How her choices affect the little girl who sees her as everything. Who means everything to me.
“There are thousands of miles between us.” She sighs, looking away. She stares out across the canyon. “I can’t give her false hope when I’m not even sure how this will work. I’ll be on a teacher’s budget. I can’t fly out there whenever I want. When would we see each other? This sounds like a disaster from the beginning. We’re trying to shove a square into a circle.”
Make no mistake, we’ve been a disaster from the beginning. But in the wake of chaos, sometimes the most beautiful things can emerge. I stare at her profile for several moments, fixated by her, but then reach out and grab her chin, angling her face until her eyes meet mine again.
“First,” I start, my voice low and deliberate, “I have plenty of money. You can come and see me anytime you want. We just need to file the edges of the square down, but I promise you, it’ll fit. You fit into my life.”
Her breath catches as she rests her head in my hand. “You better stop,” she warns, a playful edge to her tone. “Or you’re about to have me falling at your feet.”
“It’s about damn time,” I say, pulling her in again, needing to taste her. She should know I built my empire on seeing the potential in things. And I’m certain about this. We’re a campaign waiting to explode. And our campaign will be the most successful yet. “Trust me.”