Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
GRAYSON
Lainey swings her legs and sings “All I Wanted” by Paramore, playing from the speakers in the living room. Wesley mashes the potatoes, since mashed potatoes are the only thing he’s good at making, and I take the turkey out of the oven, sticking the thermometer in now that it looks about ready.
“Is Marina in the city?” Lainey asks, then pops a piece of cheese into her mouth. I’d tell her she’s going to ruin her appetite, but it takes appetizers, an entrée, sides, and dessert for her to get full.
“Yeah.” The thermometer tells me the turkey is at the perfect one hundred and sixty-five degrees.
“She’s at her place downtown with her grandkids.
” Marina is staying in the apartment I bought her five years ago, when I’d finally gotten enough to buy her a nice place, where she lives four days a week, and spends the other three here in the soup kitchen at another place I’m renting for her.
My parents set aside some money for Marina when they passed away, but not enough to last a lifetime.
Their money was enough to get us through college and our young adult years, split among three kids: one pursuing a medical career at an Ivy League school, another at a top culinary arts school, and the third studying something she disliked before switching to music, which wasn’t exactly cheap.
But we all still have money left over, along with what we’ve made throughout our careers.
“I was hoping we could see her,” Wesley says from my left.
“You guys can always visit the city on your days off when she’s there.” I give Lainey a pointed look. “Move to a chair by the breakfast nook. I need the extra counter space.”
She lets out a grunt and hops off her spot, moving behind the breakfast nook and humming along to the song that’s ending.
“Feeling Good” by Michael Bublé plays, and I dice the last of the salad ingredients, whistling and bobbing my head. I throw the sliced pears on the chopped greens and start shaving the pecorino I picked up at the farmers’ market earlier this week.
“Ummmm.”
“What?” I ask Lainey, and when she doesn’t respond, I look toward her. Her eyes are wide with surprise, and a huge grin is splattered on her face.
“You were singing, G,” Wesley says from my side, where he’s stopped mashing, with an equally surprised expression.
I raise an eyebrow. “Why are you two looking at me like I’m insane? I sang. What’s the big deal?” What is the big deal? It’s a good song, and I sometimes sing when I’m cooking.
Lainey laughs. “I haven’t heard you sing while cooking since…” She pauses, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. “Since I visited you in London around your two-year anniversary. You were happy with Chloe at the time and had just gotten your first investment toward your restaurant.”
Fuck, has it really been that long?
“It was when you were still having sex on a regular basis with Chloe.” Wesley laughs as Lainey gasps.
“You’re with someone!”
My hands stop as I fish out some fresh walnuts. Shit. Fucking Wesley had to say that. I trusted him at the time with my marital issues.
I throw him a dirty look, and he shrugs. “Sorry.” He knows Lainey isn’t going to let this go.
Rolling my eyes, I smirk. “Maybe.”
“Oh my God!” She hops off the stool and heads over to Wes. “He slept with the Jane Austen girl. Masquerade girl.”
There’s no point in lying to Lainey, she’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to my and Wes’s dating life, which was nonexistent for both of us until now.
“Oh shit, you’re right. She described her, G. She sounds hot.” He drops the saltshaker he was holding. “Hold on, isn’t she a student? Couldn’t you get fired?”
“Correction, asswipe. She’s beautiful. Be a gentleman for once,” Lainey scolds him.
“She’s extremely beautiful, asshole,” I mumble, and clean my hands before turning around.
I love my younger siblings, but fuck are they a pain in the ass.
“Yes, Emma and I are dating. No, I haven’t asked her to be my girlfriend yet, but we are exclusive.
She is a student, and that’s why we’re not telling anyone on campus until next semester, when I can speak to one of the higher-ups. ”
“Why don’t you guys talk to the school board or a dean or whoever now?” Lainey asks skeptically.
“Because, little sis, Emma’s article about me is being published next week after over a month and a half of her researching, following me around, and writing during the process. It would make it seem like she got all the information from me because we’re sleeping with each other.”
My sister’s lips slowly turn upward before she jumps and claps. “I knew it! You guys are so meant to be.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve only met her once, Lain.”
Wes starts hopping and imitating Lainey, who pushes him, almost knocking the mashed potatoes off the stove.
I snap my fingers. “You, out of my kitchen before you throw the turkey at Wes.”
My phone buzzes beside me, and I pick it up, chuckling at Emma’s response to my last message.
Me: Is it wrong that all I’ve been able to think about is you on top of me while my siblings are here?
Emma: Definitely, Grayson. Most definitely.
Emma: “Somewhere Only We Know” by Keane came up on my playlist while my dad was cooking. Is it wrong that it made me kind of miss you?
I smirk at the memory of Emma and me dancing the first night we met at my empty restaurant. Damn this girl. She’s had me fucked up since day one, and I tried denying it for as long as I could.
What a waste of time.
My phone is snatched out of my hands, and I turn to find Lainey running away from me to read the latest texts from Emma. Thank fuck she can’t see my last message.
“Lainey, get back here! That’s private.” I chase her around the open floor plan of my house, attempting not to knock anything over or bump into the corners of all my furniture.
Wes stays by the stove watching the show and recording a video of us.
“Can I get some help here, asswipe?” I yell over to my little brother.
He shakes his head. “Not when you guys keep calling me asswipe.”
“Oh my God! I love ‘Somewhere Only We Know.’ Is that your guys’ song?” She walks backward around the dining room table that’s all set up for dinner.
“Lainey,” I warn her like I used to when we were kids. She rolls her eyes and slides my phone over. “Thank you.”
She squeals and runs over to her twin. “She said she misses him, and it seems like they were talking earlier.”
“You called it,” Wes says.
“Called what?” I walk to the kitchen and bring the salad to the dinner table.
She cringes. “I told Wes about the way you looked at her in the movie theater and how you guys met. No biggie.” I stare at her. She hardly knows Emma, and she’s already being this nosy? What’s going to happen when she meets them? Heaven forbid.
Wow, I’m thinking about her meeting them. Maybe I’ll invite her to Chicago when we visit my sister around Christmas.
Whoa, too big a step.
“So, how is she in bed?” Wes asks.
Lainey smacks his arm. “Pig.”
We both snort. There’s no way in hell I’m telling Wes how Emma is in bed, which is fucking fantastic.
Lainey walks back to the nook.
“Details later?” he whispers.
“Wesley Dominic Hayes!” our sister yells in such a high pitch that we both flinch. “Grayson will not be discussing how Emma is in bed with you!”
She’s not wrong, but I really do feel bad for Wes. They’re twins with a close bond I could never fully understand. They argue more often than not because they spent so much time together as kids and learned everything about each other.
“She’s right,” I confirm. “I’m not telling you jack shit.”
He frowns, and Lainey speaks yet again. “So, big bro, I didn’t know if I should tell you this, but now that I know you’ve moved on, I feel like I can.”
For fuck’s sake, that doesn’t sound good.
I motion my head to Wes so he can help me arrange the turkey onto a platter. We lift it by the strings I wrapped around it and set it down on the large white plate.
“I ran into Chloe while I was in London.” Wes snaps his head toward Lainey as my jaw tightens.
I’m not sure how to react to what she just said.
I don’t feel anything except curiosity about how my ex-wife is doing.
I never stopped caring about Chloe, nor do I hold any ill will against her, and as far as I know, it’s the same on her end.
“As I said, I didn’t know if I should mention it or not,” Lainey continues.
“However, I think you now need to know that your ex-wife is dating and living with another man she’s been seeing for the last six months.
” I count back six months. They began dating before our divorce.
It doesn’t hurt me or make me jealous, but it does surprise me a bit.
Although we’d been separated for almost two years at that point and unhappy for twice as long.
“They have a dog too. A Pomeranian. He’s adorable and very friendly, and she asked about you and how you were doing. ”
“Okay,” I respond slowly.
“Anyway, I thought you might like to know that she’s happy.”
“Okay,” I say again. “I’m happy for her.” I truly am. Chloe deserves to be happy after everything we went through.
She shakes her head and smiles. “Everything really does happen for a reason.” Lainey finishes the last piece of cheese and washes her hands. “Okay, let’s eat this delicious dinner that you guys made, and I had no hand in.” She lifts a bottle. “But I did bring the wine.”
“I need a minute,” I tell her, then walk to my bedroom and lock the door.
Chloe is living with someone and has a dog.
Chloe always claimed she didn’t want a pet until we were completely settled in, which turned out to be never.
I guess there’s been a part of me wondering how she’s been doing all this time, due to feeling guilty about going on so many dates… and then liking Emma the way I do.
Liking someone in such a different way than I did Chloe.
I dial the number on my screen. On the fourth ring, she picks up.
“Hey,” she whispers.
Ah, fuck. “Shit, sorry. Did I interrupt your dinner?” I check the time and see that it’s seven p.m., so I must’ve.
There’s the sound of a door closing before she speaks again. “My family’s getting the table ready. I’m hiding in the bathroom.”
Leaning against my dresser, I say, “I’m hiding in my bedroom.”
Emma giggles. “Prisoners in our own homes.”
I chuckle. “Pretty much.”
“Not that I’m not happy you called, but why did you call? Because I can’t have phone sex right now.”
Shaking my head, I smile. “I’m not sure.”
“Wow. Deep,” she deadpans.
“No, I mean—” I hesitate. “My sister ran into my ex-wife when she was in London.”
There’s a pause on the other line. “Okay.”
“She told me she’s moved on and is extremely happy.” I rub my face, trying to get to the fucking point. “What I’m trying to say is, I wanted to let you know because we’re dating, and I didn’t want them or anyone else to tell you that I knew about her new life.”
A light laugh leaves her, hitting me directly in the dick and chest simultaneously. Fuck. Me. “Thanks for telling me. Are you okay?”
Of course, Emma’s going to ask me if I’m okay. She doesn’t sound jealous or worried over us at all, only about me and my feelings.
“I’m good. More than good. I’m great.” I sigh. “We’ve both moved on, and we’re both happy.”
“Good.” Her tone is light. “Damn. They’re calling me from the other room. I’ll text you later?”
“I should get going too, and yes, text me later.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. And, Emma?”
“Yeah?”
I look up at the ceiling, already cringing at myself. “I kind of miss you, too.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Grayson.” From the way she said that, I can tell she has a huge smile on her face.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Princess.”