A week later on a Saturday afternoon, I’m lounging by the pool with a book in one hand and a frozen margarita in the other.
Reyes is on the terrace talking to his dad on the phone while watching the Stanford game on a TV built into the stone wall.
It’s the Renegades’ bye week, which means they get a full week off to rest and rejuvenate without having to play on Sunday.
Reyes and I have spent the day lazing around, eating breakfast in bed and then going for a relaxing swim. Tonight we’re having Zoe and Liam over for dinner, which is always super fun. We usually dine on the terrace, drinking wine and laughing for hours.
“Touchdown!” Reyes hollers triumphantly.
“Woohoo!” I cheer, raising my drink in a toast. “Go Cardinals!”
“That’s right, baby!” Reyes crows, whooping and pumping his fist when the extra point is tacked on.
He’s barefoot, wearing faded jeans and a red Stanford T-shirt that hugs his muscular chest. He’s a proud alumnus and one of the school’s most famous quarterbacks, sharing the distinction with such luminaries as Jim Plunkett, John Elway and Andrew Luck.
“I’m getting another beer,” he calls over to me. “Want something from the kitchen?”
I hold up my near-empty glass. “Another margarita, please.”
“Coming right up.” He winks before heading inside the house with his phone to his ear.
I love how close he and his dad are. They talk twice a week, sometimes more depending on what’s happening in our lives. Brooks is a wonderful listener and a constant source of support and encouragement for both of us. I couldn’t have asked for a better father-in-law, and I often wish he had someone special to share his life with. He dates occasionally and meets many women during his travels. But I don’t think he’d ever consider remarrying. Natalia was the love of his life and no one will ever replace her. But maybe, in time, he can find happiness and companionship with a woman worthy of him.
Reyes emerges from the house carrying a small tray with our drinks. I watch as he sets his beer on the terrace table and then saunters toward the cabana, his black hair shining in the sun, thigh muscles flexing as he walks.
I eye-fuck him from head to toe and seductively lick my bottom lip, a coy smile playing at the edges of my mouth. “Well hello there, cabana boy.”
He flashes me a fiendishly sexy grin. Reaching the cabana, he sets the tray down on the table beside me and bends at the waist to serve my slushy margarita. “As you requested, madam.”
“Thank you, handsome,” I purr appreciatively.
“De nada.” His gleaming eyes roam over my bikini-clad body, sending hot sparks along my skin. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Mmm.” I wrap my lips around the straw and suck down a mouthful of the delicious icy liquid, watching him from beneath my lashes. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“Yeah?” He leans over me, his mouth hovering above mine, just a breath away. Heat blossoms deep in my belly and spreads through my bloodstream. “How about a nice massage?”
“Ooh, that sounds good.” I set my drink down and loop my arms around his neck. “My husband gives amazing mas—” I break off with a sharp gasp as something cold and wet hits my chest.
Shocked, I look down to see an ice cube lodged between my breasts. “What the—”
As Reyes erupts with laughter, I shriek at him, “Reyes Brooks Nicolau Malone!”
“Damn,” he laughs harder, pulling away. “I must really be in trouble if you’re calling me by my full name!”
“Damn right you’re in trouble!” I pluck the melting ice cube from my cleavage and throw it at him.
He dodges the missile with another shout of laughter. As I scramble out of the lounge chair, he takes off running.
Sputtering threats and invectives, I chase him around the pool. He’s fast as hell, even when he’s clearly not running at full speed. I have no hope of catching him, but I stay in hot pursuit until suddenly, without warning, he reverses direction and starts chasing me!
I let out a startled squeal and turn to run away. But I don’t get very far before he catches me from behind, swooping me up into his arms with a roar of diabolical triumph that makes me burst into hysterical giggles.
Mrs. Sutton appears on the terrace with an apologetic expression. “Sorry to disturb you, folks, but you have visitors.”
“Who is it?” Reyes asks.
She hesitates. “Your grandparents.”
His grin instantly evaporates, his arms tensing under my legs. He looks down at me, a nerve ticking in his jaw as he instructs our housekeeper, “Tell them we’re not avail—”
“No.” My voice is quiet but firm.
He scowls at me. “I don’t—”
“Let’s just see what they want.”
“I don’t care what they want,” he snaps.
“I do.” I reach up to stroke his tight jaw. “This rift between you and your grandparents has gone on long enough.”
He gives me a long, hard stare. I can see the resistance in his eyes, feel it in his rigid body.
“Let’s just hear them out,” I implore him. “Please.”
He hesitates another moment, grinding his teeth together before nodding curtly to Mrs. Sutton. “Tell them we’ll be there shortly.”
She nods, visibly relieved, and goes back inside.
When Reyes sets me down, I pad over to the cabana where my tunic cover-up is draped across the back of a lounge chair. I slip it over my head, then unravel my messy topknot and comb my fingers through my damp hair.
As Reyes walks over, I glance down at my bare legs. The cover-up is as modest as a dress, but I don’t feel presentable enough to receive visitors. “Maybe I should run upstairs and change into—”
“No,” Reyes says sharply. “They’re the ones who are intruding. You don’t have to do a damn thing.”
“You’re right.” I motion to his Stanford shirt. “But maybe you should change. Don’t wanna trigger the Harvard alumni.”
“Fuck them,” he growls, not amused by my joke. “C’mon, let’s get this over with.” Jaw set with grim resolve, he takes my hand and leads me inside the house.
As we move through the kitchen and head down the hall, I can’t help remembering the last time his grandparents were here. They came on a mission to persuade Reyes to annul our marriage. Just the memory of it makes me shrivel inside.
We reach the entrance to the living room to see Boone and Victoria sitting on the cognac leather Chesterfield sofa. They’re talking to each other in low voices, their heads bent close together like plotters.
When we appear, they straighten up and stare at us. I don’t miss the way their eyes flick to Reyes’s shirt and narrow for just a moment before they dredge up smiles that look constipated.
“Well hello, you two,” Boone greets us affably, as if we haven’t been engaged in a silent feud for the past four months.
“Hello,” I murmur politely.
Reyes says absolutely nothing.
I cross the room to sit on the tufted gray loveseat, self-consciously tugging down my cover-up. Instead of joining me, Reyes stalks over to the windows and stands with his arms folded across his chest, making it clear to his grandparents that their presence isn’t welcome.
A nervous glance passes between them.
I just stare down at my lap, waiting for someone—anyone—to break the awkward silence.
After several more moments, Boone clears his throat and fixes those aristocratic blue eyes on me. “We got off on the wrong foot, Emerson. Your marriage to Reyes was unexpected, but we should have handled it better. We owe you both an apology.”
Stunned by his words, I look at Reyes.
He’s staring at his grandparents in disbelief. And then, unexpectedly, he throws back his head and roars with laughter. Loud, gusty, shoulder-shaking laughter.
I gape at him in shock.
Boone and Victoria exchange uncomfortable frowns.
Another full minute
passes before Reyes regains his composure, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “Thank you for that laugh. I really and truly enjoyed that.”
Victoria bristles, lifting her chin. “There’s no need to be disrespectful. We came here—”
“I know why you came.” Reyes’s face ices over. “Don’t pretend this is about you having a change of heart and seeing the error of your ways. You came here because you’ve been humbled by your firstborn’s fall from grace. Your country club friends have turned their backs on you, so you’ve had to choke down your pride and come crawling to me for help. You need me because I’m the most popular Malone in this town, beloved by the masses. I’m the only thing that’s keeping you from becoming complete pariahs.”
His grandparents’ reddened faces confirm the truth of his damning words.
I feel disgusted. And sad.
Victoria draws herself up straighter. “Brigham was concerned about his campaign—”
“So it’s his fault that you ordered me to divorce Emerson?” Reyes demands with bitter mockery. “You and Grandfather were entirely blameless, right? Just like you had nothing to do with treating my mother like an outcast.”
Boone and Victoria sit rigid on the sofa, their hands folded tightly in their laps.
Reyes sneers at them. “Do you even know why Brigham had such a problem with my mother? Did you ever stop to wonder why he objected so strongly to Dad marrying her? Or did it even matter?”
“Of course it mattered,” Victoria huffs defiantly. “We shared Brigham’s concerns about your parents’ marriage—with good reason!”
Reyes snorts. “There was nothing ‘good’ about your reason.”
“On the contrary! First and foremost, we wanted your father to stay home and take his rightful place at the law firm that his grandfather established. Secondly, we wanted him to marry a woman we could relate to—”
“YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO MADE SACRIFICES?” Reyes explodes furiously. “You think my mother’s parents didn’t have hopes and dreams for her? You don’t think they wanted her to stay home and help run the winery that had sustained their family for generations? You don’t think they wanted her to marry a Catalan man who spoke their language and understood their customs? You don’t think it hurt them to let her marry some foreigner and move halfway across the world to settle in some strange land? They were probably devastated! But they loved their daughter enough to respect her choices, and once they saw how much my father loved her, all their misgivings vanished. They welcomed him into the fold and grew to love him like their own son. Because that’s how good parents are supposed to behave.”
Boone and Victoria stare fixedly at some point beyond Reyes’s shoulder, their lips pressed so tightly together they’re invisible.
Reyes is just getting warmed up. “I can count on one hand the number of times Dad has returned to North Carolina over the past ten years. But he travels to Spain every chance he gets, and he receives a hero’s welcome every single time. He wants to be buried there when he dies because his wife’s birthplace feels more like home to him than the town he was born and raised in. Why do you think that is?” Reyes divides a cutting look between his grandparents. “Either of you care to guess?”
Boone frowns uncomfortably.
Victoria sits even straighter, blinking rapidly as if trying to fight tears.
Reyes isn’t finished with them. “Despite the abominable way you both treated my mother, she never uttered a bad word about you. Dad wanted to cut you off, but Mom wouldn’t let him. It was the only thing I can remember them fighting about. She believed in the importance of family because she grew up surrounded by love. She’s the reason you saw Mireia and me every summer. I used to wish she would just let Dad have his way because I hated coming here and seeing you and Brigham, knowing how you all felt about her. I remember how she and Dad would drop us off and stay for only a few days because that was all he could stomach. Every time they left for home, I begged them to take me with them, but Mom always made me stay. During her last days, as she lay sick and dying in the hospital, she made me promise to keep in touch with Dad’s family. She made me swear an oath never to cut you off. That’s more loyalty than either of you ever deserved,” Reyes snarls, glaring at them with blistering contempt. “So don’t sit there and try to justify your reasons for rejecting my mother. There is no fucking justification.”
Boone and Victoria look thoroughly ashamed. As they should.
After a few tense moments, Boone leans back on the sofa and crosses his legs, gravely regarding his grandson. “You’ve got a lot of anger and resentment built up inside you—”
“Damn right I do,” Reyes growls. “I’m done biting my tongue and making nice with you people.”
“Well, we’re here now and we’re ready to listen.” Boone spreads his big hands in a gesture of surrender. “What can we do to make things right, son? What can we do to earn your forgiveness?”
“You want my forgiveness?”
“We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t. Tell us what you want.”
Reyes’s jaw locks down tight. “I want you to travel to Spain and go to the family vault where my mother is buried. I want you to take her favorite flowers, get down on your knees and apologize for the way you treated her. I want you to tell her how sorry you are for not getting to know the extraordinary woman she was. After that I want you to apologize to her family for your deplorable behavior. I want you to spend time with them. Have dinner with them, talk to them and listen to what they have to say. Let them show you what a healthy, loving family truly looks like.” His eyes harden. “Then, and only then, will I consider forgiving you for the past.”
His grandparents stare at him, their faces frozen in shock.
“Those are my terms. Take it or leave it.”
His grandparents look at each other. When a slow nod passes between them, I release the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
“I’ll let them know to expect you soon.” Reyes smirks. “Now that you’re persona non grata among your society friends, I’d say this is the perfect time to take a vacation.”
Boone and Victoria share a grimace.
“Glad we could have this talk.” Reyes uncrosses his arms. “If there’s nothing else—”
“I never meant to push him away!” Victoria bursts out suddenly.
Reyes narrows his eyes, waiting for her to elaborate.
She looks at her husband and then at Reyes, her lips trembling. “I love all of my children dearly, but your father was very special to me. From the moment the nurse placed him in my arms, we formed a unique bond that only strengthened over the years. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but we understood each other. I . . . I didn’t want to lose him . . .” Her voice fades, and seconds slip by before she whispers, “But I lost him, anyway.”
Something catches in my throat. I look at Reyes to gauge his reaction to his grandmother’s confession.
He’s staring at her, his expression revealing none of what he’s feeling. “It’s not too late for you and Grandfather to mend your relationship with Dad. He has a big heart and an incredible capacity to forgive. But you have to make the first move. You broke the relationship, so the onus is on you to fix it.”
His grandparents accept his words with a silent nod.
“One more thing,” he says with unrelenting steel in his voice. “My mother went to her grave knowing that she was never accepted by this family. I have no intention of letting you do the same to my wife. As I’ve stated before, her father’s crimes have no bearing on her. If, at some point in the future, you find yourselves having uncharitable thoughts about her, you’d better keep those thoughts to yourselves. Because I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting her. If you ever mistreat her in any way, if I detect even a whiff of animosity, I’m cutting you off. You will no longer see me, my wife or my future children. You will be dead to me. Both of you.”
Boone and Victoria turn pale, their eyes meeting apprehensively.
> “You’ve been warned,” Reyes says coldly. “What happens going forward is up to you.”
Long moments pass before his grandparents rise from the sofa together and start across the room. When they reach the doorway, Victoria stops and looks back at us.
“I’m sorry we didn’t attend your beautiful wedding. We should have been there, and I’m ashamed that we weren’t.” She pauses, her eyes meeting Reyes’s and then mine. “I know this is long overdue, Emerson, but . . . welcome to the family.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Reyes moves to stand beside me, his arm protectively wrapped around my waist. He’s my rock and my fortress, and together we’re unbreakable.
“Thank you for stopping by,” he tells his grandparents. “This was a step in the right direction.”
They smile softly and nod in agreement.
After they see themselves out, I turn to face Reyes. He runs his hands up and down my bare arms, heating my skin with his palms.
“Are you all right?” he asks quietly.
“Yes.” I search his eyes. “Are you?”
“I am, actually.” Something of a wry smile touches his lips. “I had a lot to get off my chest.”
“Indeed.” I stroke his stubbled jaw. “You didn’t tell them about Brigham having feelings for your mother.”
“No,” he says grimly. “Braxton and Susanna are going through enough right now. They don’t need to learn that their father possibly never loved their mom because he was secretly in love with their aunt.”
I wince at his words. “Talk about pouring salt into an open wound.”
“Exactly. It would devastate them. That’s another reason Dad never told anyone.”
I curl my arms around his neck, my face tucked against his chest. “Thank you for trying to protect me from your grandparents. It means the world to me. But I don’t want you to break your promise to your mother.”
“Neither do I,” he murmurs with his lips in my hair. “But I know she’d understand. She wouldn’t want history to repeat itself.”
“No. She wouldn’t.” I tilt my head back to gaze up at him. “You’re a good man, Reyes Malone.”
Get Over You (Dare Me Book 1) Page 41