by Mia Carson
She leaned against him and smiled. “I believe you. I just… I just wish I had something to work with here, you know? I feel like I’m floundering, and I don’t like floundering. I don’t like not being prepared. I can’t make a plan for this.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to,” he said and hugged her closer. “We’ll make it.”
“How do you know?” she asked quietly, and he heard the fear in her voice, a strange sound he never thought he would hear from her.
“Because you survived for twenty-two years doing what you had to do to make it,” he said firmly. “You made it and you’ll keep making it, but this time, you’ll have help. You’ll have a family.” He choked on the last word and coughed, trying to clear his throat. Tell her, you idiot, before she finds out! He coughed again, and she glanced over her shoulder at him.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked and moved through the water to sit at the other end of the tub.
He shook his head, coughing one more time. “Nothing.”
“You’re so full of shit,” she said and splashed him with the bath water. “Seriously, what are you hiding from me? And don’t tell me you’re not. Your lip’s doing that thing.”
His hand shot up to his mouth. “What thing? I don’t have a thing.”
“Yeah, you do. Your lip curls at the corner when you’re lying,” she said and nibbled her lip. “Just tell me, please? Whatever you’ve got, I can take it. Nothing can be as bad as Aiden.”
Greyson cringed as guilt filled his chest for a second before his mind flashed to the last time he saw Aiden—on her ass, holding her hand to her face after Belle had punched her. The guilt faded, and he studied Belle closely, noting the bags under her eyes even though she’d slept for a few hours.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. She sank lower in the water with a groan, but didn’t say anything. “You tell me about the dreams keeping you up at night, and I’ll tell you what I know.”
“Know about what?” she asked perking up.
“Deal or no deal,” he stated and crossed his arms over his chest.
Belle’s toes tickled his leg hairs under the water, and she screwed her lips to the side in thought before she nodded. “How much do you want to know?”
His hands swirled through the water, sending bubbles her way. “Everything.”
“Well, that’s too long of a story, and we don’t have enough bubbles,” she said. Her gaze lowered, and he caught her hands going to her belly, running over the bump below the water. “I keep dreaming about my time in foster care… flashbacks to when I was almost adopted… to when I searched for my parents…” She trailed off and smiled bitterly at him. “I keep waking up with the feeling that someone is out there looking for me, and I’m never going to find them. It’ll be like the last time and the time before that, and it’ll never end.”
Greyson ran a wet hand over his face and wanted to kick himself for being an ass. She was going to murder him when he told her. “There’s something I’ve been keeping from you—and before I tell you and you get all pissed at me, I’m trying to protect you… just in case.”
She sat up, her eyes glued to his. “In case of what? What’s going on?”
He blew out a breath and rambled, “Someone called the other night, said he was your older brother, Brent.”
Belle’s face went completely blank, and her mouth fell open in surprise. Greyson waited for her to yell at him, but she stayed quiet. Unusually quiet.
“Belle, I—” he started, but she held up her hand to stop him.
“He… he just called… for no reason?” she asked on a breath.
Greyson nodded stiffly, hoping she wouldn’t pry too much but that was too much to wish for.
“How long ago? How the hell did he find you?”
He wished he could be anywhere else besides under her fiery gaze as he said, “A month ago… The night you found out you were pregnant. He said he lives in California and heard about someone asking for a Belle Hall.”
“A month,” she repeated calmly. “You knew for a month someone was looking for me, and you didn’t say anything.”
“Yes,” he sighed. “I’ve been checking up on him, wanted to make sure he was legit before you met him in case he wasn’t… I didn’t want you to go through that pain, not again.”
She nodded slowly, but her calmness worried him. He found her hand in the water and pulled her towards him, holding her shoulders as he waited for her gaze to find his.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted to be sure.”
“And are you?” she asked, this time with an edge to her voice, but whether anger or worry he couldn’t decide. “Is he… is he really my brother?”
“I’ve only talked to him on the phone, and from what I can find, there’s a chance he is.”
Again, she nodded, looking at the water lapping between their bodies. “I think I need a moment alone,” she said and started to rise, but he kept his hands on her shoulders.
“No. You stay and relax. I’ll get out,” he insisted and stood. He was about to step over, hating himself for thinking it was a good idea to keep it from her, when her hand reached out and snagged his. “Belle?”
“I love you,” she said earnestly as her eyes narrowed. “I love you for trying to protect me, but don’t think I’m not pissed you kept it from me.”
He smiled. “I know, and I’m sorry, really.”
“Does he sound nice?”
Greyson turned back and sat on the edge of the tub. She hadn’t released his hand. “Do you want to talk to him and see for yourself?”
She shook her head hard, sending her hair flying. “No, not yet. I don’t know,” she muttered.
“There’s no rush,” he assured her. “You don’t even have to meet him if you don’t want to.”
“How many times have you talked to him?”
He shrugged. “Just a couple… Okay, he does call me once a week, asking for you.” Her eyes widened, and he sighed. “This is why I didn’t tell you yet. You’re stressing out enough with the baby to add a long lost relative to your plate who may or may not be for real.” He clenched his jaw, still waiting for Belle’s explosion, but instead, she laughed.
“Figures, when my life is finally looking up, another bombshell gets dropped.”
“Might not be as bad as you think,” he said. “Just relax for a while and think it over. I’ll figure out what to do for dinner, and no, we’re not having Chinese again,” he said quickly when she opened her mouth. She shut it promptly and glared at him. “Glare all you want. You’re eating something semi-healthy for a change.”
“Chicken’s healthy,” she mumbled with a pout.
He laughed sharply. “Not the way you eat it, it’s not.” He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked towards the bathroom door. He should’ve been relieved she wasn’t angrier at him about it, but when he glanced back, worry knotted in his chest at the fear in her eyes—fear of finding her family and learning the truth, or fear of it being another lie, Greyson couldn’t tell. His hand gripped the doorframe hard until his knuckles turned white and he forced himself to walk away and give her space. Maybe a shopping trip this weekend with his mom and sisters would help her figure out what to do next.
Brent sounded sincere when he’d spoken with Greyson, ecstatic to finally find his little sister, but it raised so many questions—like where he’d been all these years and why he hadn’t tried looking for her, for any member of her family.
Greyson slipped into his jeans and t-shirt, tugging it down hard as his thoughts drifted. If this guy thought he could just appear in Belle’s life and everything would be perfect, he had another thing coming. He’d have to go through Greyson first.
Chapter 3
Six Years Ago
Belle ran home from the bus stop, ignoring the calls from the other foster kids she lived with. Today was the day it was supposed to come in the mail. She couldn’t wait any longer, was barely able to sit through her
classes all day, but she had an answer now and couldn’t reach the mailbox fast enough. Her book bag bouncing behind her, she slid to a stop, nearly toppling over, and yanked down the door, but the box was empty.
“No,” she muttered, wondering if the mail was late today.
“Looking for this?” a woman called from the front porch.
Belle’s shoulders hunched, and she turned slowly to see her foster mom, Patty, standing on the top step holding a manila envelope, glaring intently at Belle. “I’ll pay you back, I swear,” she called out, but Patty rushed down the steps and stood in front of her so quickly, Belle staggered backwards into the mailbox. She lowered her head, wondering if Patty would go so far as to hit her, but the woman held back.
“You horrible child,” she snapped. “I already called social services. They’re coming to get you tonight for what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Belle insisted. “I said I’d pay you back!”
“You stole my credit card to pay a PI!”
“I wanted to find my parents,” she cried, hating the tears stinging her eyes. “Please, just tell me what’s in the envelope. Please… I’ll get a part time job. I’m sixteen now. I can work.”
Patty shook her head. “No, I’m finished dealing with you and your ridiculous hunt for parents who clearly didn’t want you. Sick and tired of it! Pack your bags, and you can wait outside.” She handed over the envelope with a dark leer. “I hope you’re happy with the results.”
Belle held the envelope with a shaky hand until she saw the top was already ripped open. “You read it?”
Patty didn’t say a word or turn back around. The other kids rushed past her to get inside, leaving her alone on the sidewalk, holding the answers she used Patty’s credit card to get—well, two credit cards actually, but at least she’d be gone before the horrible woman realized it. It was not like she really cared for the foster kids she took in anyway. Belle sank to the ground and pulled out the single sheet of paper inside. Soundlessly, her lips moved over the words of the letter, and her heart sank as the tears flowed freely from her eyes.
“Nothing,” she whispered on a gasp. “He found nothing!”
She crumpled up the letter and threw it aside with a yell, watching the wind pick it up and carry it down the street along with her hopes and dreams of finally finding her family. Of finally getting answers about why she’d been abandoned. When the tears subsided a while later, she wiped her face on her shirtsleeve and pushed to her feet. If Patty wanted her out, then Belle would go, and this time, wherever they placed her, she’d put her head down, get through school, and find a way to be on her own. She was finished trying to find her family. Finished with the lot of them.
Anger burned like a raging hurricane inside her as she stormed into the house and gathered her few meager things into her duffel bag. She stalked back outside to wait on the porch and explain to her social worker why she was being kicked out of another foster home. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except finding a way out of this crappy hellhole. She never wanted a family, never wanted anyone to care about her or pretend to. They all just went away in the end. She would be alone for the rest of her life and be happy.
It was all she could do…
***
Belle shot awake in bed, one hand automatically flying to her pregnant belly while the other went to her forehead. She glanced around, swearing she’d still be sitting on Patty’s front porch, but the snoring beside her assured her that she was safe in Greyson’s bed and that she was no longer sixteen years old, waiting on a car ride to take her away… far, far away. Her heart pounding in her chest, she pulled her feet from the sheet and slipped quietly from the bed, hunger pains overriding her worries for a second. She grabbed her silk robe and left the bedroom and the snoring Greyson as she walked through the dark house. The clock in the kitchen read a little past three in the morning, and she groaned. Nearly the same time she’d woken up every night this week.
“I should just set an alarm and be done with it,” she muttered, wondering how much Greyson would freak if she got up at three to start her workday.
The thought of his furrowed brow and furiously tilted lips made her giggle as she dug through the freezer for a pint of peanut butter ice cream. Since Greyson was asleep, she reached into the fridge for a jar of pickles, too, then went to the kitchen table to eat them together. He said it didn’t bother him, but whenever she ate these together, he grimaced and swallowed hard, leaving the room to let her eat what she wanted. Belle smirked as she ate a petite pickle and followed it with a spoonful of ice cream. It could be a lot worse, but he didn’t believe her.
As she sat alone in the dark, her dream floated back to her again and what Greyson had told her earlier about a man named Brent. She thought hard, closing her eyes and digging back as far into her memories as she could, but the name didn’t sound familiar. If he was her older brother, it raised more questions than it answered, and Belle knew exactly why Greyson waited so long to tell her. She hadn’t stopped worrying about it since. What was he like? Did he really want to find her? Where had he been all these years, and, worst of all, did he know what happened to their parents? Belle’s hand fumbled with the spoon, and it clattered to the kitchen table. She cringed and waited to see Greyson barreling down the hall to find her, but he stayed asleep.
The promise she’d made to herself all those years ago rushed back—about not wanting a family, telling herself she didn’t need one… Man, was she wrong.
Her hands fell to cradle her belly, and she smiled. “Don’t worry, bear junior, your mommy’s going to find out who she is after all.”
She loved Greyson, loved being a part of his life and knowing Sally and the twins. She wanted their child to know them all too and be loved, but she knew if she never met Brent, if she never found out who he was for sure, she’d regret it forever.
Leaving her ice cream and pickles, Belle ran back to the bedroom and hopped into bed, shaking Greyson’s shoulders. “Hey, wake up,” she said quietly. He rolled over, staring at her through squinty eyes.
“Belle?” His eyes widened he sat up quickly. “The baby? Are you alright? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, calm down,” she said, catching his hands as they felt her body. “I want to meet him.”
“Who?” he asked, his hands still doing a thorough search of her belly as if worried the baby would magically vanish.
“Brent. I want to meet him. Soon.”
Greyson rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I am. I want to meet him. I can’t just let this go, or I’ll risk never knowing,” she said and sank to her knees on the bed. “I have to know something about my past, and if he can give me even a little bit, then I’ll have something about my family to tell the baby when it’s born.”
Greyson wrapped his arms around her and drew her against his warmth. “Then you can meet him—on one condition. And before you start, I’m not going to argue with you on this point.”
She grinned. “And what is your one condition?”
“I meet him first, alone. If he’s not who he says, if he’s just some fraud or looking for money, he’s not getting anywhere near you.”
The urge to argue with him was there, but her reason overruled her mouth for once and she remained silent. He had a point, and her heart sighed to know how deeply he loved her to want to protect her from Brent in case he was lying.
“Deal. But you have to do it soon, like this weekend.”
“He’s in California,” he reminded her.
“But it’s perfect. Your mom’s going to kidnap me, anyway, for the day, so there won’t be a chance of me sneaking along,” she insisted. “Please? See if you can fly him out here?”
His brow furrowed, and she reached up to smooth out the lines. “I’ll call him in the morning and see if he’s available,” he agreed and kissed her. “Promise me you won’t try anything, though, until I give the okay?”
She wrapped her pi
nky around his. “I promise. Oh, crap!” She slipped from his arms.
“What are you doing?” he asked with his deep laugh as she ducked out the door.
“Pickles and ice cream,” she called over her shoulder, and he groaned in disgust behind her. Not that she cared. She was going to meet her brother soon—or whom she hoped was her brother. If this turned out to be the same as the last time, Belle worried her hope of finding out where she came from would be dashed forever.
***
Greyson sipped his coffee and waited at the local café by the airport for Brent Hall to arrive. His flight landed on time two hours ago, and Greyson had scheduled their meeting for noon. Belle had been nervous all morning, flitting around the house until Sally, the twins, and Carrie came by to kidnap her for the day at ten. They told everyone else what was going on, and Sally swore she would keep an eye on Belle and not let her sneak off or call Greyson repeatedly.
So far, so good, he thought as he sipped his coffee and scanned the café. It was busy this time of day, but still no sign of Brent.
He tried to remember what the man had said about himself. No surprise he was artistic, just like Belle, but he was a painter, not a designer. He said he worked in a gallery and the museum out in Sacramento, just trying to get by. He had a girlfriend, but that was about it. Didn’t finish college, and from the background check Greyson had run, he hadn’t been in trouble with the law. His eyes were the same ice-blue shade as Belle’s, and his hair was a dead ringer for hers, too, along with the curve of his jaw and cheekbones. If he only saw the picture, he would’ve thought they looked alike. It gave him hope that this man told the truth, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind said not to get too comfortable, not yet.
The bell above the door rang again, and Brent strolled in, glancing around the café, a cell phone in hand. Greyson took a deep breath to keep his temper in check and waved an arm over his head. Brent saw him, waved back, and motioned he was going to grab a coffee.