Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
WAIT, WHO IS THAT WITH THE NEPO BABY?
TRIPP
“Tell me about your family,” Greer said quietly.
I thought she was already asleep. After Gilded, she’d dozed off in the car.
She’d barely woken when I’d carried her through the front door and had swayed on her feet when I set her down long enough to arm the security system before taking her right upstairs.
She hadn’t bothered to keep hold of the overnight bag she’d brought, leaving it downstairs to deal with another time.
She must’ve caught her second wind and wanted to use it to talk about the one subject I worked hard to avoid.
I would answer for her, though. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Everything. I know your mom passed, but not much else. Were you close?”
I gave a small, bitter laugh. “No. I barely knew her.”
“She passed when you were young?”
“A decade ago.”
She sat up. Or tried to. I put my palm to her cheek to keep her against my chest.
If I was going to share, I was doing it with her naked body pressed tight to mine as a distraction.
I gave a harsh exhale, and she rushed out, “You don’t have to tell me. Forget I brought it up.”
“Hush, siren.” I took a second to find my words.
“My mother was one of Clark’s soap groupies.
She was young and ambitious as well as damaged and stupid.
She wanted to star beside him. She thought they’d have this epic storyline that they would echo in real life with a lavish wedding before living like royalty.
Clark led her on as he banged everything with a pulse that smiled his way.
She got it in her head that getting pregnant would force him to settle down. Spoiler alert, it didn’t.”
“Oh no,” she whispered.
“Yup. He didn’t propose on the spot like she hoped.
He accused her of cheating before kicking her out.
Once I was born, it took multiple paternity tests before he believed I was his kid.
By that time, my mother was over her dream of landing him and even more over being a mom.
If you can call it that… She signed her rights away to Clark, who was also over being a father despite the fact he hadn’t spent five minutes in the role. I never heard from her again.”
“Ever? Not even once you turned eighteen?”
“I had no interest in chasing down someone who hadn’t wanted me. I didn’t even know she died until six months after it happened when one of her friends got in contact with my dad. Well, with Percy. I don’t think Clark would’ve passed on the message or the coffee table.”
“Coffee table?”
I lifted my shoulder. “I think they sold everything else of value, so all that was left of hers to give me was a coffee table.”
“That’s something, I guess.”
I didn’t bother to point out that it went unused in my media room—except when Chase Majors had snorted coke off it. That was probably a fitting tribute, though.
Greer didn’t offer platitudes or empty assurances. She just snuggled closer, giving me comfort I didn’t need but would damn sure accept.
After a couple minutes, she said, “I have a Christmas present for you.”
My hand trailed down her back to her raw and tender ass. I soothingly stroked it before gripping it. Hard. Her whimper was half pained hiss, half moan. “You already gave me the best fucking present I could ask for.”
“Good because this one is small. And stupid. And really cheesy.”
“I have a present for you, too.” Technically, I had two of them.
She sat up. “Mine first.”
I didn’t have the chance to tug her back to me with the promise that we would exchange gifts in the morning. I clicked on the bedside lamp just in time to see her rushing out the door, giving me a peek of her rounded ass under my tee she wore.
Going into my closet, I grabbed the better of the two gifts before flopping in bed with my back propped against the headboard. I wondered if she would see the other present downstairs.
When she came into the room, I smiled. “Did you see it?”
“Is this some kind of a joke?” she asked softly. Even in the dim light, I could see the way her lips were curved down in a devastating frown that didn’t make any damn sense.
“What’re you talking about?”
“You’re free to do what you want, Tripp. We said from the beginning that this wasn’t serious, and I know having sex doesn’t change that.”
It sure as shit did. For me, at least, but I’d hoped the growing feelings were mutual. Her words fucking cut at me, but not as badly as her sad tone did.
“Okay, what the hell are you talking about?” I semi-repeated.
Greer held up a bundle of loose papers like I should know what they were. “If you think this was a clever way to emphasize that point, you’re a dick.”
She neared the bed, and I thought she was going to climb back in, but she didn’t. She tossed the pages at me before ducking down. I didn’t look at what she’d thrown when I realized she had her clothes in her hand.
She’s going to leave.
“Whoa, hey, hold on.” I scrambled up, trying to cut off her escape. “Talk to me.”
“I think you’ve said enough.”
Her tone was no longer wounded or soft. It was blank. She was shutting down. Building back those walls that I’d broken through until she’d finally shared.
She kept her gaze averted from me as she tried to redress. I grabbed her upper arms, but there was no wide-eyed stare that made a lot more sense once I realized she liked to be restrained. No hitched breath that shot straight to my dick.
There was nothing.
Fucking hell fuck.
What did I do?
She jerked back, and I released her to look at the papers for a clue. A hint. I’d buy all the damn vowels to solve the puzzle of why she looked at me like I was a monster.
Oh shit.
Screenshots.
“I don’t care that you have these, baby,” I started, trying to figure out why she’d gone on the deep dive through my phone to find them. “I’m not mad—”
Her laugh was harsh. Cruel. “You’re not mad?”
I kept talking. “I’ve got nothing to hide on my phone, including these old messages. I just don’t get why you have them.”
“Why do I have your new wallpaper? Shits and giggles, I guess. And if you think these are old, we have very different definitions of the word.” The snapped attitude was gone just as fast as more bricks were added to her walls.
I could see each one being carefully mortared in place.
“But again, it’s fine. What you do is your own business.
There’s no reason for you to be an ass about it, though. ”
Unease twisted in my gut and prickled at the back of my neck. “My wallpaper?”
“Yeah.”
I tugged on my discarded pants, not bothering with the button before grabbing my phone. I went downstairs and turned on a light for the first time since we’d arrived home.
What in the cinnamon toast fuck is going on?
Printed out chats from the highly selective dating app Kaya were taped to my walls. They covered my counters. They were plastered every-fucking-where.
I turned just as Greer came down the stairs, wearing her pretty dress and heels like she was going to leave.
I would block the door if I had to. Hell, I would drop to my knees and beg if that was what it took to keep her there.
But she wasn’t making a beeline out of my life. Her watchful gaze was on me.
“You didn’t do this?” she asked, and it gutted me that she would think I was capable of that kind of malice.
“No. Fuck no. You have to believe me. Baby, please. I’m a prick, but I’m not that big of a prick.”
“If this wasn’t you, who was it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t give a shit right now. Say you believe me.”
Her jaw clenched, and despite my reassurances, there was still so much sadness in her hazel eyes. “I believe you.”
She wasn’t lying, but she also wasn’t softening. There was no relieved smile. She wasn’t crashing into my arms the way I wanted.
“Greer—”
“Later,” she said. “Right now, we need to deal with this. Because if this wasn’t you, that means someone broke in.”
Shit. My focus had been on talking Greer down, I hadn’t thought of anything beyond that. But she was right.
“I’m calling the cops,” I said. “Call Maddie and get Easton over here.”
“At least you’re smart enough to never send a dick pic,” Easton said a couple of hours later as we stood in the kitchen.
“Yeah, but only because I can’t fit the whole thing in one picture,” I joked, forcing lightness I didn’t feel.
Greer was still pissed.
No, it was worse than that.
Greer was checked out.
Police detectives had come and gone. Other than the papers plastered everywhere, there was nothing else disturbed.
Nothing missing. And since I hadn’t been home for a couple days—and had left a construction team in my house when I took off to Greer’s—there was no specific timeframe to narrow anything down.
Once we got the okay from the cops, Maddie had taken down all of the screenshots while Greer had arranged for a locksmith to come immediately to change all of my locks. The security company would come first thing in the morning to update the system.
I could’ve handled all that, but I wasn’t about to argue with her. Not when she looked so fucking sad.
“You’re going to have to increase Hank’s hours,” Easton pointed out—something I’d already thought about. “Or hire more security.”
“Both,” I said. As badly as I’d wanted my privacy, I wouldn’t take risks. Not if I was going to have Greer in my life.
And that was looking more and more like an if.
I thought that even before my siren came into the kitchen to announce, “Maddie and Easton are going to drop me off at home.”
Home.
When we were at Gilded, that’s what she’d called my house. A few hours later, and everything had gone to hell.
“No,” I said.
She lifted her stubborn chin. “You can’t just say no.”
“I can, and I did.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen.”
“You want to rethink that answer?” I asked, my tone calm despite the chaos rioting through me. I stared her down, and she swallowed hard.