Chapter 12 #3
“Still,” Jace said, thoughtfully, “it’s strange that Lark was so different at the festival, considering she’s exactly the same now as she’s always been.”
“Tell me about it.”
Jace went quiet again, his expression suddenly more focused. Like puzzle pieces were clicking together inside his head.
Then said, “Lark told me once that she and Wren used to switch places when they were kids, trying to prank their teachers and friends.”
Grayson shrugged. “I suspect most identical twins try that joke when they’re young.”
“What if they did it again?” Jace asked quietly. “Three weeks ago?”
Grayson stilled. “What?”
“What if they switched places at the festival?”
Grayson leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why would they do that?”
Jace lifted one shoulder. “No clue. But it would explain things.”
The possibility that his brother was right slammed into Grayson hard enough to make his stomach clench.
He was a fucking idiot.
How in the hell hadn’t he figured this out on his own?
Suddenly, he was feeling like one of the dumbass, flawed heroes in the books Wren had been giving him to read.
His mind started replaying moments from the festival with this new information. And he remembered the woman who laughed at his jokes, who blushed at his compliments, whose eyes held warmth instead of challenge.
Then he compared those memories to the times he’d spent with Wren in the library.
Now that his brother pointed it out, it seemed so fucking obvious.
“Grayson,” Jace said, still quietly. “The legend has never been wrong.”
Grayson opened his mouth, but his brother bulldozed ahead.
“It struck Dad, Levi, Theo, Maverick, and Mila. No mistakes. And I challenge you to find five happier couples.”
Grayson couldn’t. Because it wasn’t possible.
“Hell, it probably happened to Lucy too, but back then, we didn’t really think about love at first touch as a family legend. It was more like a meet-cute story Dad told us about the day he met Mom.”
Grayson couldn’t deny anything his brother was saying.
“But when you think about it,” Jace continued, “Lucy fell hard for Joey and Miles right out of the gate too. I mean, shit, those guys weren’t here a full week before she was hopping in that RV with them and taking off for places unknown.”
The certainty in his brother’s voice scraped against every doubt currently clawing in his brain. Because he still believed in the legend. He’d spent his entire life believing love could strike like lightning, fast and fierce.
Hell, he believed it even more now because he’d felt it for himself.
If Jace was right, then Grayson hadn’t fallen for Lark at all.
He’d fallen for Wren.
A pulse began pounding hard in his temple when another thought immediately pushed its way to the surface.
“So, she’s been lying to me.”
Jace winced—because he knew just how much Grayson hated being lied to. “I’m not saying they definitely switched places. I’m just saying it would explain…” His words fell away, probably because he realized there was nothing he could say to calm Grayson down.
Anger sparked hot. It wasn’t an explosive rage, but something quieter and more personal. Because if Jace was right, Wren had manipulated him, played him for a fool.
Somehow that idea hurt worse than finding out that Lark wasn’t his person.
“You okay, Gray?”
Grayson shook his head. “Fuck no.”
Jace nodded. “Fair.”
Grayson’s gaze drifted down to the valley again. Every instinct he had pulled him toward Wren with an almost-brutal force. His anger melded with an awareness. One that was urgent and undeniable.
Suddenly, Grayson knew exactly how to test Jace’s theory. A slow smile spread across his face. Not an amused one, not a happy one.
A dangerous one.
Jace groaned. “That look isn’t going to lead to anything good.”
Grayson rose slowly. “If they switched places at the festival, then one of them is going to crack when I confront them about it.”
“You’re just going to ask?” Jace’s tone let Grayson know he thought that was a dumb idea.
“Oh, I’m definitely going to ask. But first, I’m going to test my theory.”
“How?”
“By touching Wren.”
Jace studied him for a minute before shrugging. “Not sure if I should wish you luck or barricade you in here before you do something crazy.”
Grayson grinned, perfectly aware he probably looked unhinged. “If I find out she lied, it’s not me who’s going to need luck.”
He didn’t give Jace a chance to respond to that. Instead, he left the office, walking back to the farmhouse he shared with his brothers. Not that he was going home. He bypassed the front steps, heading straight to where his truck was parked in the driveway.
That touch at the festival had changed his life.
And now…it was about to reveal another truth.
Twenty minutes later, Grayson was climbing the three steps that led to the front door of the Gracemont Public Library. His pulse was hammering like he’d just run a marathon.
The library was quiet when he stepped inside, the air cool and carrying the familiar scent of old books and polished wood. It was only a few minutes before closing time, so it looked like most of the patrons had already cleared out, the place nearly echoing in its emptiness.
He’d timed this visit perfectly.
Wren wasn’t seated at the circulation desk, so he walked past it, peering into the small office behind. The door was open, so he could see in an instant that she wasn’t there either.
Then he heard it. The faint squeak of the book cart he’d told her would benefit from a bit of WD-40.
Glancing around one of the shelves, he spotted her.
Her back was to him as she sorted a handful of books on the cart.
Her long blonde hair was down, hanging around her shoulders.
She was wearing a black pencil skirt that accentuated her perfectly round ass and showed off her trim calves.
A white silky blouse was tucked into the skirt, but it was clear she’d been reaching to put books on shelves, because some of it had tugged loose, the shirt’s hem hanging free on one side.
She was the perfect blend of cute and sexy.
His.
That last thought hit him harder than he liked, because it came tied to another emotion.
Betrayal.
He didn’t know what the hell game she and Lark had been playing, but whatever it was, she’d had more than enough time to come clean once the prank was over.
They’d had three conversations since then. Two right here in this library, and then that night at Whiskey Abbey. Three talks that had meant more to him than he cared to admit to himself.
Had she secretly been laughing at him, pleased that her joke had been so successful?
She threw her left leg out, toeing over one of those wheeled stepstools so many libraries had. Grabbing three large hardback books, she stepped up, reaching out to shelve them. She tottered for a moment, obviously underestimating the weight of the books.
Grayson quickly headed down the aisle. His movement caught her unaware, so when she twisted her head to look at him, she wobbled even more.
The second he reached her, he placed his hands on her hips to steady her.
Wren started talking, but it was impossible to hear the words over the fireworks exploding in his body louder than the Fourth of July. His intention had been to keep her secure, but if he kept touching her, he was the one who was going to wind up on his ass.
Carefully lifting her off the stool, he placed her feet firmly on the ground, then—with great difficulty—he drew his hands away.
That simple motion shouldn’t have been so damn hard, but it was as if his hands were coated with superglue. Letting go of her waist felt fucking unnatural.
That was when every piece clicked into place. The festival, the connection he’d felt, that kiss, this undeniable attraction.
It had been real.
Just attached to the wrong damn name.
She’d lied to him.
But even knowing that, even furious and hurt and completely fucked up in the head, he still wanted to pull her into his arms—and that realization terrified him.
The legend hadn’t been wrong, which left him reeling, trying to figure out what hurt worse.
The lie, or the fact that he was already halfway in love with her anyway.
Placing her hand over her heart, Wren gave him that warm smile that he should have recognized right from the start.
“Grayson?” she said. “Did you hear me?”
He shook his head, both as a way to respond and in an attempt to fucking clear it. Something in his eyes must have given him away, must have let her know he was wise to her, because Wren’s eyes widened.
“Oh,” she started. “You know—”
He ripped off the Band-Aid.
“Hello, little bird.”