8. Jenny
Chapter eight
Jenny
Dinner was stilted and uncomfortable. Mia poked at her food with her head down, her eyes still red and swollen from crying. Casey refused to touch a single bite, sulking with the same broody expression that Simon wore when he was pissed off.
Greyson plied the kids with questions to get to know them, but they didn’t talk much, and eventually, attempts at conversation died altogether.
Finally, I sent Mia and Casey to bed and started clearing away the dishes.
“Well, that was excruciating. I’m so sorry about tonight, Greyson.”
He shook his head, joining me at the sink.
“Don’t apologize. We knew that adjusting to this new dynamic wouldn’t be easy. The kids stood up for themselves. You taught them well.”
I blew out a heavy breath and turned on the faucet, soaping up the dishes. Greyson retrieved a hand towel, waiting to dry the plates and cups as I handed them over. After a moment or two, he cleared his throat.
“Is it…normal…for Simon to show up like that?”
“Oh, he always answers when we call him,” I replied. “Even if he’s in the middle of club business, he does everything in his power to get to us when we need him.”
Greyson made an awkward noise.
“That’s…not what I meant. Jenny, he was very drunk.”
My chest constricted. Inviting another man into my life wasn’t going to be smooth sailing, and I was well aware of that. Although this was more turbulence than I had been prepared for.
Simon was so shit-faced that he could barely stand on his own two feet. Mia was heartbroken over her beloved cut being taken away. Casey had his claws out like a tomcat, ready to pick a fight. And Greyson had been attacked on all sides.
“The divorce is hard on Simon,” I said. “We’re the only family he has, besides the club.”
“That’s no excuse for his behavior,” Greyson countered.
I grimaced and started to protest, then thought better of it and kept my mouth shut. Defending my drunk ex-husband after wrapping up a terrible date with Greyson would only rub salt in the wound.
“Are you sure that you’re ready for this, Jenny?” he asked. “To move on? To remarry?”
“Yes,” I replied instantly. “Of course.”
Greyson nodded in thought and set the dish towel aside. Then he held my wet, soapy hands.
“Good. I’m glad to hear that. Since the kids have gone to bed, I was hoping we might get a chance to talk about what we want out of this relationship going forward. Exclusively.”
I should have been thrilled.
Instead, the sharp edge of guilt settled between my ribs like a knife. I couldn’t stop replaying the memory of Simon in my mind while he stood there on the lawn, alone, in the dark, while the rest of us took shelter in the golden glow of the home we used to share together. He just looked so lonely…
“I’m surprised you’re not running away as fast as possible after what happened tonight,” I said.
Greyson shook his head.
“You warned me, remember? The first time we talked, you told me everything. I knew what I was getting into. And it doesn’t scare me, Jenny. You’re worth fighting for—you, the kids, and the future we can build together.”
I gazed up into Greyson’s face, waiting for his words to sink in. I was free and clear to marry again, to grow old with a new husband, and there would be no threat of club business to tear us apart.
Now that I was finally getting exactly what I wanted, why did I feel so terrible about it?
“Are you busy this week?” I asked, juggling the phone while I deposited the kids’ dirty laundry in the washing machine. “I was thinking I could make lunch and bring it to you. As an apology, after the dinner from hell.”
Greyson hummed as he deliberated. In the background, I heard the drone of voices and the rustle of paper.
“That’s a long drive just for lunch, Jenny. And I have several high profile cases on the books…”
He trailed off with a groan.
“Wait, that’s the wrong answer. I’m supposed to be a family man now, not a bachelor workaholic. I’ll move things around. Would tomorrow at noon work for you?”
I perked up.
“Really? That’s perfect. But if it’s too much trouble—”
“No, no, I’d love to see you again,” Greyson said. He paused, then added, “Will the kids be joining us? Or do they still intend to murder me in my sleep?”
I snorted with amusement.
“They would never do anything like that.”
“Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one targeted by a little boy full of rage and armed with a foam sword.”
I laughed and leaned back against the washing machine.
“Are you scared of my five-year-old son?”
“Scared isn’t the term I would use,” Greyson countered. “More like…wary. I’ll watch my back when he’s around.”
“Well, then, you can relax, because Mia and Casey will be in school tomorrow. It’s just the two of us.”
“Good. I’ll hire a car to pick you up, so you don’t have to make that long drive all by yourself.”
“Greyson, no, that’s too much,” I protested.
“My assistant is already making a reservation. Besides, you and the kids will be living in the city with me some day. I want you to get accustomed to the lifestyle you can expect here.”
I went silent at the sudden pang of his comment. It had never occurred to me that I might have to leave Juniper Creek. But it made sense. Staying in this little town was too risky. I could cross paths with Simon at any moment.
It didn’t matter that my babies were born in this little town. It didn’t matter how many lifelong friends and memories I would be leaving behind.
If I truly intended to have a fresh start, I couldn’t cling to my old life and grab for my new life at the same time. I had to choose—one or the other.
The next day, I found myself nestled in the back seat of the town car Greyson had sent for me. The pristine interior and buttery smooth black leather seats were luxurious and nerve wracking at the same time. I clutched the basket of food I’d packed, praying I didn’t spill anything.
When the driver pulled up to the curb of Greyson’s law firm in Aurora, I blew out a breath of amazement at the sleek, modern architecture, all steel and glass. I was moving up in the world.
Standing by the front door was Greyson, wearing a crisp dark blue suit, with a phone pressed to his ear. He took my hand, ushering me out of the car.
“Almost done with a client,” he whispered. “Then I’m all yours, I promise.”
I nodded, trailing after him as we headed inside. Greyson led me through a maze of hallways to his office, with a wall of windows overlooking the city. A large black desk spanned one wall, kept tidy and organized. There wasn’t even a stray pen or a loose paper clip.
“Sorry about that,” Greyson said, hanging up at last. “It can be challenging to get the high profile clients to stop micromanaging me around every turn. Please, have a seat. What is that delicious smell?"
We settled into a pair of chairs at his desk and I began unloading the food.
“I brought you some of my favorites. Turkey pesto sandwiches, potato salad with bacon, mini brie tarts, and caramel pecan brownies.”
“You made all this?” he asked in disbelief.
I shrugged, smoothing a wrinkle out of my sundress.
“It’s my love language, I guess. Keeping the people I love well-fed. And that includes…my boyfriend,” I added, faltering on that last word.
Greyson and I had already agreed that we were officially an exclusive couple, but this was the first time since dating Simon that I had been romantically involved with anyone else. And it felt…strange.
Greyson arched an eyebrow with interest.
“Boyfriend. I like the sound of that.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to hide a smile. He took my wrist and tugged, guiding me out of my chair and into his lap. The weight of his palm curved around my leg, pushing the golden yellow fabric of my sundress higher. When he slid his hand between my thighs, I pushed at his chest.
“Greyson, the whole damn city can see us.”
He reached over and plucked a small silver remote from his desk, pushing a button. Dark blinds descended from the ceiling, covering the windows.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you. Now you can continue to ravage me in your office.”
Greyson chuckled as he kissed me deeply, sliding his hand up my skirt again. When he cupped my pussy, I rolled my hips into his palm with a needy whine.
“God, you’re such a breath of fresh air, Jenny,” he murmured against my lips, tangling his fingers in my hair.
“So warm and domestic. We could end every day like this, you know. A good meal, a bottle of wine. The kids away at boarding school, and you, waiting for me when I get home, tasting so sweet—”
I froze and grabbed Greyson’s wrist. A cold queasiness wriggled in my stomach.
“Boarding school?”
“For Mia and Casey,” he said simply. “And other children, if we decide to have them.”
I sputtered, blindsided by this development. Of course I wanted my kids to have every opportunity available to them, but…boarding school seemed to be a massive leap.
“We haven’t discussed that yet."
Greyson’s gaze flicked over me, noticing the way I nervously tugged my dress down.
“It’s still early to be thinking about it,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t hurt to start looking into these things, preparing for them. Admissions can be very selective about their students. I’ve compiled a preliminary list of schools so far—”
He pulled a file folder from the stack on his desk and handed it to me. I scanned the columns of text, but my brain was too frazzled to make sense of it.
“This was supposed to show that I have the best interests of Mia and Casey at heart,” Greyson said. “I’m planning for their future, something their father didn’t put much effort into.”
I sighed and scrubbed my hands over my face.
“Simon did the best he could. I know you’re just trying to help, but this is a huge decision and you just plowed ahead without me.”
Greyson nodded.
“You’re right. It’s my bullish lawyer temperament and sometimes I don’t know when to stop. I’ll rein it in.”
A beat of silence filled the air. I blew out a breath, sinking back against his chest.
“Let’s put a pause on the boarding school discussion and revisit it another time, okay?"
Greyson made a noise of agreement, sliding his arms around me again.
He coaxed my legs apart, hitching my skirt up.
I whimpered as he peeled my panties down, leaving them dangling off one ankle.
Closing my eyes, I tilted my head back, surrendering to him as he curled his fingers inside me, making my body bow.
“Yes, yes, right there—” I rasped.
Greyson buried his face in my neck, palming at my breasts with his free hand.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight, sweetheart. That’s it. I bet you feel incredible wrapped around my cock.”
Maybe it was the haze of my orgasm turning my brain to mush. Or those words and the huskiness of Greyson’s voice that sounded so familiar.
But it slipped out before I could stop it.
“Fuck, yes, Simon, don’t stop.”
At first, I didn’t realize what I’d said.
Until Greyson went rigid. Then it dawned on me and I covered my mouth with both hands, mortified.
“Greyson, I meant—”
He pushed me off his lap and rose to his feet.
“You should go.”
A sob welled up in my throat. How could I be such an idiot? Moaning my ex-husband’s name when I was with another man…
Scorching shame flooded through me from head to toe. I scrambled to straighten my clothes.
“It was an accident, Greyson, I swear.”
He turned his back on me, brushing me off with a dismissive gesture.
“I asked you.”
I faltered, confused.
“What?”
“I asked you before. Are you ready for this? Are you ready to move on and remarry? And you said yes.”
“Because it’s the truth,” I insisted. “I am ready.”
Greyson shook his head without looking at me.
“No. You’re not. When my hands are on your body, his name is still on your lips. Please leave.”
I ducked my head as a lump formed in my throat. Our lunch was spread out on Greyson’s desk, untouched. I shoved it into the basket as quickly as I could and hurried for the door.
“Jenny,” Greyson said.
I paused on the threshold, glancing back.
“If you plan to explain this away, I don’t want to hear it. Lose my number.”
My heart sank. I blew it. The first chance at a relationship after my divorce, and it was over before it barely even got started.