by Elley Arden
“No, I don’t want to talk about it.” Nel was already idiot enough for feeling like this. She wasn’t going to broadcast her stupidity.
His fingers walked up her neck, gathering at the base of her skull where they circled, circled, circled … Her head tipped to one side. She meant to blink, but her eyes closed, and they couldn’t manage to open again.
Nel had no idea how long she stood there, limp and at his mercy before he said, “You know, you made me talk when I didn’t want to.”
“That was different.” Her words were barely a whisper as she tipped her head to the other side.
“Doesn’t seem different. You wanted me to talk because my mood was getting in the way. Seems like the same thing to me.”
Was it? Maybe. She couldn’t think straight anymore. All the stress from her head and shoulders melted, trickling into her chest, over her belly, and down her thighs.
She sighed as she pried open one eye. “You realize you’re talking yourself right out of any chance at sex, don’t you? I have to get back to work, sooner rather than later. The longer we talk, the less time we have.”
He seemed to think about it, the corner of his mouth lifting, and then he nodded his head. “That’s okay. There’s more to you than your body.” He kissed her forehead. “Besides there’s always tomorrow, and now that I have a working refrigerator, the whipped cream will keep.”
With both eyes open, Nel stared at the man who up-ended her world a little over a month ago. Before Grey, she figured a ridiculously successful, Will-Fortune-crushing business and a quiet, docile man at her side were the keys to her happiness.
But lately, she was pretty damn happy without those two things. With only Grey.
There’s always tomorrow, he said. The words and his incredible patience with her miserable mood made her wonder things she shouldn’t be wondering, like was he as blindsided by feelings beyond sex as she was? And then immediately none of it mattered, because his words weren’t accurate. They would run out of tomorrows — soon. And that sucked worse than finding Tawny Kellogg on his front stoop.
Nel swore she wasn’t going to let feelings get in her way, but she had it bad for him. So bad she opened her mouth and said, “I don’t like that woman.”
“I don’t either,” Grey said without hesitation.
“Good.” It was a simple word, but it weighed heavy on Nel’s tongue. And when he smiled, slow and sly, the implication made her heart cringe. He knew she was jealous, didn’t he?
Panic surged into her throat, but then she stuffed it down with a so what? She liked him. He had to know she liked him. For crying out loud, they’d been sleeping together for three weeks. She didn’t have sex with a man unless she liked him very much.
Seeing another woman fawning over Grey on his front porch simply meant Nel was territorial, not a needy, emotional mess. She could admit she didn’t like Tawny because she liked Grey. Right? What harm would there be in such an admission?
Nel couldn’t decide, so she took the safer approach. “I used to work for that agency.”
The rest of it, including unavoidable details about her relationship with Will, spilled out over the next half hour. On one hand, rehashing her greatest heartbreak wasn’t an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon, but on the other hand, the man sitting beside her in a lawn chair on the back patio, throwing a ball for two eager dogs, made it seem like the absolute best way to spend an afternoon.
“Now, see, I might not like her, but I like him,” Grey said, grinning.
“Will? He’s an asshole.”
“Exactly, and I like that about him, because if he wasn’t, you wouldn’t be here with me.” He heaved the ball into the brush at the back of the yard, and the dogs bolted. “Well, maybe you’d still be here as my realtor, but I wouldn’t be able to do this.”
He slid a hand beneath her hair and palmed her neck, pulling her closer until their lips met. Soft, slippery, and soul-shattering. When Nel opened her eyes, her head was spinning.
Grey simply smiled.
Something was happening here. Something had changed between them. But what? How? When? Maybe she was crazy. Maybe the endless work around this house while she tried to manage other business obligations had skewed her perspective.
The dogs barreled toward them again, Joker with the coveted prize. She watched bleary-eyed as Grey tugged the ball from the animal’s mouth and launched it again.
“So selling this house and staking a claim on this neighborhood is your revenge on Will?” Grey leaned forward, resting elbows on his knees.
She stared at his strong, dark profile. Revenge wasn’t the right word. She didn’t feel very vengeful anymore. Mostly, she just wanted to be successful to prove she could be.
“It’ll make a statement,” she finally said.
Grey turned his head to look at her, and after a painfully long pause, he nodded. “I’m glad I can help you do that. I never got to make a single statement to Lindsay after she ran off with my dad.” He turned to face the charging dogs. “Now it’s too late.”
Nel couldn’t imagine how hard it was to not have closure. She still got a power trip from remembering Will’s face the day she walked out of his office and his life. Every wronged lover was entitled to that.
“I’m sorry,” she said, wishing she could say a few words to Lindsay, too — and Grey’s father while she was at it.
“Don’t be. At least I don’t ever have to see her again.”
Blackjack sat and dropped the ball at Grey’s feet. Joker sat, too, closer to Nel. She reached out and smoothed the fur made softer by weeks of good food and care. “Yeah, running into Will is not fun, but I manage. It’s bound to happen in the small world of Pittsburgh real estate.”
“Do you see him a lot?” A muscle in Grey’s cheek twitched.
Her heart flipped. It shouldn’t have. Imagining Grey felt any amount of possession toward her was contrary to her ability to remain even-keeled and level-headed when it came time for him to leave. And he was going to leave. And she wasn’t going to follow him. There was no way around it.
“No,” she said, holding back a sigh. “Fortunately, Will stays in the North Hills most of the time and has his minions work down here. But I’ll see him this weekend. We’re both being recognized at Pittsburgh Real Estate’s yearly awards gala.”
The twitch in Grey’s cheek calmed, and he returned to a slow, rhythmic bobbing of his head. “Congratulations on the recognition. What’s it for?”
Nel cringed. “Pittsburgh Real Estate’s Female Mover and Shaker.”
It was such a stupid name. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but more than the name, she hated the idea of Will garnering the evening’s biggest award, walking in there as king of the real estate world, while everyone still viewed her as a start-up. By the end of the night, Will’s smug smile would be emblazoned on her brain, and the only way to get rid of it was to knock him off the podium and replace his smile with a frown when she was named Broker of the Year instead of him.
That would take a lot of work and God only knew how many years … unless she could capitalize on this house. She glanced over her right shoulder at the stone structure, and then back to Grey. As much as she loved spending time with him, he’d be gone soon, and her hopes for a clean break were fading. He was occupying more and more of her head — and heart — leaving less time for thought about her business. Sure, listing this house was the catalyst for her master plan, but at what price? Now, more than ever, she was certain she needed to cultivate some personal distance to preserve her professional success.
But the longer she looked at the man in question, the clearer it was she couldn’t follow through. Giving up any of the time they had left together seemed cruel.
Nel smiled and smoothed her hand down the soft flannel covering his back. “Thank you.”
; He smiled at her from over his shoulder. “For what?”
“For making me talk,” she said, her fingers curling until her nails dragged along his back. “I feel better.” She was sabotaging herself, knowing the gesture was meant as more than reinforcement of her gratitude.
What was it about this man that made her lose her mind?
She stood then, battling with herself over the same tired reasons. He was going. She was staying. Whatever this was couldn’t last. “I should get back to the office,” she said. “Lunch is over.”
Grey sat back and reached for her hand. “I was hoping you could forget about work.”
Funny, she was hoping she could forget about him. But since that wasn’t going to happen, today seemed as good as any to take the rest of the day off.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I can’t believe you won’t come see your nephew.”
Tired of the same old conversation, Grey leaned on the granite countertop. “It’s not that I won’t. I can’t.” He still had two bathrooms to remodel and a truckload of Dad’s junk to move out.
“Are you in prison?”
Looking around the completed kitchen and into the gleaming great room, Grey thought about the hell he’d walked into six weeks ago. Back then, it felt like a prison. Not so much now.
“You caught me,” he teased. “But they’re allowing me to have my cell phone on account of good behavior.”
“Be serious.”
“You’re the one who brought up prison.”
A heavy sigh came from Jordon’s end of the phone. “Grey, where are you? And before you say Nashville, think again. Hoffman had meetings at the stadium last week and he stopped by your place, hoping to take you for a beer, said he found a Fed Ex slip stuck to the door dated a month ago.”
Grey took a deep breath and delayed his exhale, holding in a groan. He couldn’t keep the truth from Jordon much longer, and he shouldn’t have to. The house was days from being done. Hell, if he spent less time in bed with Nel, he’d be done already, the house would be listed, and he’d be holding his baby nephew in one hand while he beanbag tossed on Jordon’s lawn with the other.
That had been the plan before he learned the terms of Dad’s will. Plans changed, and now there was this house … and Nel. A part of Grey was dragging his feet when it came to finishing up and leaving, but he couldn’t defer forever.
He was expected in Tampa in two weeks.
It was time to face facts. With Nel’s brothers’ help, this house could be done in a few days, four max. Then Grey could head south, stopping off at Jordon’s on the way.
“I’ll see you next week,” he said, ignoring the cloud of uncertainty hanging over his head.
“Fine, but when you get here I’m going to ask you again where you’ve been, and it’s going to be a lot harder to brush me off in person.”
True. Grey knew hoping for the house to sell before he arrived at Jordon’s was too much to ask, but a part of him did anyway. It would sure make things easier. Knowing a supersonic sale wasn’t going to happen, he’d just have to keep up his dubious ways. It would all be worth it once he handed Jordon the check, like their father should’ve done all those years ago. Then they’d be that much closer to closing the door on the old man’s memory and driving in the bolt lock. Then, only making things right with Tag would be left.
An hour later, as Grey laid tile in the master bath, he contemplated everything from shipping the dogs back home to Nashville and finding them in-home care, to leaving Nel and when he would see her again. She said he didn’t need to be present for closing once the house sold. He probably couldn’t be present even if he wanted to. The season would be in full swing, and he’d be God-only-knew where. But he’d be back here in Pittsburgh for a three-game series in May. He could see her then.
May seemed so far away.
The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he needed to make what remained of their time together memorable enough to hold them over to May. After all, as much as he didn’t like his father, the crash taught Grey about the fleeting nature of life. Here one day, gone tomorrow. Memories — good and bad — were what remained. It was a sappy notion that made him more than a little uncomfortable.
The high-pitched whirring of the tile saw cut off his thoughts, and for the next two hours he was too preoccupied with measuring, cutting, and grouting to think of much else. But when he walked into the master bedroom where his father’s clothes piled high upon the king-sized bed, he was hit with genius.
A tuxedo. What if he donned the fancy duds and showed up at Nel’s awards ceremony unannounced? He could stand in the back of the room, watch her receive her award and then treat her to an overnight stay at the priciest hotel in town. There’d be champagne, roses, chocolate-dipped strawberries — and whipped cream.
He grinned. See? He could do this romantic thing.
He could also be recognized. The grin faded, but then something sensible surged in his overprotective brain. At this point, who cared? The house was basically finished. And if word got out he had a woman in Pittsburgh, it didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. Maybe because it was Nel. She had a way of making him feel like sharing anything with her — including TMZ’s front page — was a win. Besides, she wasn’t famous, so really, who but the locals would care? The locals didn’t talk to Jordon. And even if they did, he wanted to believe Jordon would be happy he’d moved past Lindsay. Then again, if Jordon’s tendency to overprotect a client made him question Nel’s motives for being with Grey, it would still be a great distraction from the house. Grey could tell him he’d met someone — someone special — and that was why he’d been so secretive about where he was.
It sounded like a foolproof plan to Grey.
With a nod, he settled his thoughts on giving Nel a night to remember.
But first, he needed to try on the tux.
• • •
“I hate these things.” Nel inhaled and sucked in her gut so Rena could zip up the back of her ball gown.
“Then why are you going?”
“You know why I’m going. If I don’t go, Will wins.” Nel fastened a crystal necklace around her neck.
“Will already won Broker of the Year. There’s nothing you can do about that.”
She stared at Rena’s reflection in the mirror. “That’s not the win I’m talking about.”
Rena spun her around by the bare shoulders. “Don’t make this night about him. Find something else to focus on or you’re going to be miserable. And if you’re miserable, your father’s going to kill him.”
Nel laughed. “Dad will have to get in line behind the boys.” Her brothers hated wearing suits and ties, but they wouldn’t miss the opportunity to support her and death-stare Will for the world.
The idea of such shenanigans made attending the ceremony tolerable, but she’d rather be spending the evening with Grey. Once again, she reminded herself he’d soon be gone, but her business would remain. There really was only one focus here.
With more help from Rena, Nel’s curls were swept to the top of her head and her eyelids were dusted with shadow. She finished just as Dad and Mom pulled up to escort her downtown.
An hour later, sitting at a table in the front corner of the Westin ballroom, surrounded by her family, Nel felt incredibly blessed.
Across the way, Will was circled by his agents — mostly female, Tawny included — and he smiled and laughed until she expected his head to pop off from all the exuberance. Will Fortune was not exuberant — not really. He faked those things. Underneath the happiness act was a man who was never satisfied.
Thank God she walked away when she did. If she hadn’t, her life could’ve revolved around him.
Reaching into her silver handbag, she lifted her phone enough so she could see the screen. She had this silly idea Grey w
ould text, but there hadn’t been a peep, which was probably a good thing. Bit by bit, she’d let her guard down until she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. He meant as much to her as anything, but unlike most things she held dear, she was going to have to let him go.
“How about another glass of wine,” Mom said, leaning closer to Nel. “Your father’s going to grab me one.”
Nel smiled and patted her mother’s chiffon-cloaked lap, and then looked at her father. “I think I’ll pass. I have a speech to give, you know? It won’t look very good if I’m slurring my way through it.”
Mom covered Nel’s hand with hers and squeezed as Dad walked away. “Even if you did slur, we’d think you looked good. You’re our beautiful baby girl.” She grinned. “And we’re so proud of you.”
Looking into her mother’s sparkling eyes, Nel filled with satisfaction. Next to making herself proud, making her parents proud was the best feeling in the world. “I know you are,” she said, leaning in for a hug.
“To the best real estate agency in town,” Rick said, raising his pilsner glass.
The rest of her brothers followed.
Mom pushed Nel away. “Wait! I only have water, and we shouldn’t toast without your father. It’s not the same without him.”
Or Grey. It was such a sudden, outlandish thought Nel grabbed her wine and drank more than she intended to.
“Come on, Mom,” Rick coaxed. “We’ll toast again when Dad gets back. To Nel and Parker Properties.”
Glasses rose, then met with mouths around the table. Nel tried to think of something short and sweet and thankful to say for the impromptu toast, but her brain kept tripping over thoughts of Grey. How she wished he was here; how she wished she was there.
By the time Nel set down her glass, it was empty.
“She’s going to need another glass.” Joe grinned and then faced the crowd, craning his neck. “Dad’s on his way back already, so I’ll get it. Anybody else need anything?”
Warm tingles kissed the tip of Nel’s nose as the rush of wine settled in her body. If she drank any more, she’d be on her ass. “Not necessary,” she said to Joe and then held up her water goblet. “I can toast with this. Really.” She took a drink on principle.