by Joya Ryan
“Yes, I do know,” Hannah said. She also knew that Grant was still struggling with it. Knew that he didn’t talk about his father much without a lot of pain rising up.
“Well, as the widow, I have a vested interest in seeing to my husband’s estate. Grant is trying to take everything from me.”
“Grant wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh? Because you know him so well? His father was a romantic, too. Fell head over heels for me. Then he grew tired of me and was on to the next woman, the next adventure. And yet, I looked the other way. Stayed his devoted wife while he lived an entirely different life without me.” She paused for a dramatic sigh. “I hope you were wise enough to sign a prenup, because when this fight over my dearly beloved’s estate is settled, Grant is going to come out in the hole. If he doesn’t drag you down with him first.”
She turned to get into her car. “You may want to think about what I’m telling you, dear. The Laythem men are takers. They take your youth, your heart, your money, and try to leave you with nothing.”
She closed the door, and Hannah stood there, having no idea why bile was rising in her throat and she felt the need to retch.
As she watched the limo back out of her driveway and pull away, she wondered how much of what Lillian had just said was applicable to Hannah. Grant had already threatened to take her bar if she hadn’t given him the two weeks of trying to make it work. Was he really just an adrenaline chaser? Only wanting her because she was a challenge?
No . . . she didn’t think so. She thought back to the way he held her, the way he fought for her, the way he owned her . . .
But she liked that. Asked for that.
She shook her head. She didn’t know what to think. She did know that people weren’t always what they seemed. She just needed to know if it was Grant or Lillian who had the false front.
She walked inside and found Grant with his palms on the edge of the table, leaning over it. He was sweaty from what looked like a run, his T-shirt clinging to his muscles, and black shorts showing off his tan, toned calves.
“Hannah, are you okay?” he said, walking toward her.
He hugged her and then set her away to look her in the eyes.
“I’m fine. What, did you think she’d hit me or something?”
“No, she has a way of spinning lies to make people feel like shit.”
She looked at Grant. At her husband. The man she’d said yes to after two weeks, and she wondered how she’d got in this mess. How she felt like she knew him so well, yet maybe didn’t.
No, she did. She had to. Because if there was one thing she trusted, it was her gut. And deep down she knew Grant was a good man. He wouldn’t lie to her, take everything from her. He wouldn’t.
“She talked about your dad,” Hannah started slowly. Grant’s face twisted from anger to sadness, back to anger. It was clear how much he loved his father and how much pain he was still in from the loss. There had been no sign of any emotion other than bitchiness on Lillian’s face.
“I don’t need to know what she said to you about him.” Grant’s dark eyes stared straight through her own and into her soul. “The only thing that is important to me is that you know he was a good man. The only mistake he ever made was loving her. She took everything from him. Even now, she’s still trying to take everything.”
Hannah frowned. Lillian had said exactly the opposite. But she had also said that while being frosted in diamonds like a frickin’ blonde Elizabeth Taylor. Hannah was more and more confident that she knew Grant, and if his mother was a sign of anything, it was what Grant had had to struggle with his whole life. Hannah would never want anyone, especially him, to judge her based on her father. So she wouldn’t do that to him. She’d believe him.
Trust in him.
“I have no doubt your father was a wonderful man.”
Grant nodded once. “Thank you. Did she say anything else? Why she was here?”
“She said she was here to see you. You’re trying to take what’s hers? Something like that.”
Grant breathed deep. “I’m not taking anything from her.”
“I believe you,” Hannah said. And she did. She honestly did. She’d suspected that Grant was well off, and now seeing his mom, that was confirmed. But what she didn’t know were the details. Would he really be in the hole? The term prenup stuck in her mind, and she couldn’t figure out why it refused to unstick. Only one way to get a gauge on this . . .
“She asked if we’d signed a prenup.”
Grant’s eyes darkened, and his expression shifted just enough that she could tell he didn’t like that.
“We don’t need one,” he said shortly.
Hanna’s chest stalled. “How come?”
He cupped her face. “Because I trust you.” He searched her face. “Do you trust me?”
She looked at him. Those deep pools pulling her in. His warm hands, capable yet gentle on her face.
“Yes, I do trust you,” she whispered.
He kissed her softly. “I’m sorry about the other night at the bar.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, too.”
“I just can’t lose you. The thought of anything happening to you . . .”
“I’m okay,” she said. “This is my life here. You have to trust me that I can handle things.”
“I want you happy. I know you love that bar. I still hate you having to throw yourself into something dangerous.”
She nodded. “I know. And I hate that I feel like I don’t quite know everything there is to know about you.”
The tip of his nose brushed hers, but he didn’t say anything. He just hugged her close, and Hannah let his warmth wrap around her. Her heart recognizing him, needing him. Her mind ticking once more . . .
Maybe we really are too different to ever work.
Chapter Eleven
Hannah sat at the little desk in Laura’s flower shop. The front part of Baughman Home Goods was Laura’s display of various flowers and arrangements. It was small and cute and all her style. The back warehouse was where Jake worked.
“These arrangements are looking great,” Hannah said. Laura was putting several centerpieces together for the event tomorrow night. Looked like the hiring company had gone local for not just the bar—which was Hannah’s job—but the flowers and food, too. Laura’s flowers would be on display at the event, and she was proud of her friend for all the hard work she’d put into making her business a success.
“Thank you! I’m so excited for this job. I love getting to put arrangements together. I haven’t done it much lately, since I’ve been doing more landscaping stuff.”
“Well, they look wonderful,” Hannah said, handing her another flower. “How do you and Jake do it? You two are different, yet you work together and live together.”
“Great sex,” Laura said with a smile, adding a rose to the arrangement.
Hannah raised a brow. “I guess that counts for something.” She snipped another flower and handed it to Laura.
“I mean, nothing is ever easy, including our relationship. It took a lot of hard work, and yes, we’re different. Remember what we went through when I first came back to town?”
“You two fought and hated each other,” Hannah recalled.
“Which, again, made for great sex, but we had to meet each other halfway.”
“I don’t know how to do that without knowing everything will work out.”
Laura laughed. “You don’t know everything will work out. Because there’s no way to know. You just have to have faith it will. Go into it knowing that you’re going to try your damnedest and you love him. That’s what you know.”
“Yeah . . . ,” Hannah said quietly. Then frowned. “Wait, what makes you think I love Grant?”
Laura grabbed a lily, put it in the arrangement, and spun the vase. “Because I can see it. You’re trying so hard not to count on him. You’re actually trying not to love him. But you do. You have. Which is why you married him on a damn boat.”
/> Laura shot her a playful smile.
There was that. Hannah had never been impulsive like that. She knew then and still did now that Grant was special. She thought back to what Grant had said to her that night at dinner . . .
You love me. Stop acting like you don’t . . .
Was that what she was doing? Trying to find any reason to remind herself why this was a bad idea? Why Grant was a bad idea. Because he was the only one that could hurt her. Which meant that . . .
Crap. I really love him.
“You can’t control everything,” Laura said, keeping her eyes on her vase.
It hit Hannah just then, the connection she and Grant had. She tried to deal with so much, tried to be in control and plan for the worst. Deal with endless responsibilities. But Grant took care of her. Let her be free. He took over, and she felt truly seen and taken care of.
“I trust him more than I even knew,” she said.
“Duh,” Laura said, grabbing a carnation out of Hannah’s hand.
“But that doesn’t mean we’re right for each other. Or can even make this work,” Hannah said.
Laura stopped fussing with her flowers and stared at Hannah.
“Right for each other?” she repeated in a snippy tone. “You’re the most stubborn, pain-in-the-butt person I’ve ever known. And you finally met your match. You’re not right for each other—you’re perfect.”
Hannah glanced down. She wondered what it was about her that made Grant want her. He challenged her, and she challenged him back. There was a lot of push and pull and . . . spankings.
But she really did feel herself with him. Felt like he saw her for her. Never a local, never trash, never mean . . . he embraced her difficult side and matched it.
“Of all the times a man has never shown up for you,” Laura said, “Grant has. Even after you ran. And Jake did the same thing for me.”
Hannah thought hard about what her friend was saying. And she was right. There was something special between her and Grant, and it deserved a chance. A real chance for her to trust in what they could be. Her gut had told her once before that he was it. Now it was time to listen to it again.
Maybe Grant would stay here. Maybe at the end of these two weeks, she’d be his wife, just like he wanted. Then they could really try to make this work. There was no way to know unless they tried. And damn the man, but he might have just gotten her to fall in love with him again.
“I think I need to go to work. Then I’ll find Grant for a little chat.”
“I think you should. Maybe say something nice,” Laura offered.
“I was going to start with, ‘Hey, jackass, congratulations—you wore me down. Wanna bone?’”
Laura rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s one of the most romantic things I’ve ever heard you say.”
Hannah waved to her friend and headed out. She needed to find the only nonlocal in town and admit she might want to give their marriage a shot after all.
“What do you mean, you can’t get here? You’re my lawyer, Harvey, and I have a big investing deal that is set to close tomorrow night.”
“Grant,” Harvey said from the other end of Grant’s cell phone, “you need to get to New York. Your mother is taking you to trial over contesting the will, and the board is meeting tomorrow to vote on you. She’s wreaking havoc here.”
“Then why the hell did she come here for a day?” Grant said, but his mind instantly churned out the answer. She was checking up on him. Seeing if he was up to something. Spreading misery. She never wanted to go to the investment event. She’d come out for just a day to make his life miserable.
“She’ll be around for that meeting tomorrow?” Grant asked.
“Yes,” Harvey said. “Her lawyer has been calling me all day. She lands today. She’s bringing the full-court press.”
“She doesn’t have a case.”
“No, but she can still try to take over your spot as CEO, which will give her power and access to Laythem holdings. Grant, I’m telling you, as your attorney, you need to get back here.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and knew Harvey was right. If he wanted to save his father’s company, he needed to get to New York and talk to his board.
Grant paced in the living room. The event was tomorrow. But so was the board meeting.
“I’ll be on the next flight to New York.”
He hung his phone up and threw it, cursing his mother, God, and every other thing in the world that was keeping him from the woman he loved.
A woman that he wasn’t sure would ever give their marriage a chance. And he had to save something . . . at least he’d save his father’s company, if nothing else. Even if the cost was blowing a chance with the only woman he’d ever loved, who might never love him back.
But he had to be sure.
Had to hear it from her.
His father had died telling Grant that the most important thing in life was finding genuine happiness with a genuine person you could spend your life with. His father had never had that. He’d had his heart ripped out by a gold digger, and Grant had been around the social scene in New York enough to know that Hannah was the only woman he’d ever met with real warmth to her.
He loved her.
But he couldn’t make her love him, want him, or their marriage. Despite his best efforts.
“I still have to hear it from her,” he said to himself as he grabbed his jacket and headed out the front door. He walked quickly down the side street that came out to hit Main. Several blocks down, he finally made it to Goonies.
The afternoon sun was bright but not warm. His chest hurt from the cool air, or maybe it was his nerves. Knowing he was walking into one of the biggest conversations of his life.
He opened the bar door and saw Hannah.
She was behind the bar, wearing a black tank top, her hair in a long braid, making her creamy skin sparkle. He watched her tuck a lock of hair that came loose behind her ear, then wipe the counter down.
She was beautiful.
He wanted to watch her, remember this moment. Because right then, Hannah was his wife, and she was happy.
He walked toward her.
“Hey,” she said with a smile. “What can I get you, Mr. Laythem?”
He placed his hands on the bar. “An answer,” he said.
She frowned, then glanced around. He walked to the end of the bar, where they could have a little privacy.
“What are you talking about?” she asked in a hushed tone.
“Us, Hannah. I need to know. Are you going to stay married to me?”
“Why are you asking me this? I thought you had two weeks and—”
“I need to know now.” He would never walk out on her, but he couldn’t let his father’s business crumble. He couldn’t fail at one for the other, especially if the other didn’t want him back.
“Why is there a time crunch all of a sudden?” she asked.
“There’s always been a time crunch,” he said. He didn’t know why she looked so concerned. Maybe that was his answer. That despite everything, she would still go her separate way from him. He’d never told her how much money he had or the details of his mother and her crazy lies and schemes to take the company. Hannah knew enough. And he wanted her to make her choice based on him. Not anything else.
“Is this about what’s going on with your mom? Do you need help? Are you . . . struggling?”
He frowned. Did he need help? What the hell was she talking about?
“I need my wife, Hannah,” he said. “I need to know if you’re in this with me for good. If you’ll give us a chance.”
“What’s going on, Grant? I know you don’t tell me everything and have secret calls and all that, but this feels like a setup for failure.”
Her words hit his chest like a spear. “Setup for failure,” he repeated.
She leaned over and kept eye contact. “Grant, what is going on? You’re being cryptic, and I can’t commit to something when I don’t know enough about what
you’re asking me to sign up for.”
“You married me already. So you already signed up. I want to know if you’re still in it.”
Her lips parted, and Grant felt his stomach churn with fear. He needed her to have faith in him, in them, and the way her gaze searched his face, he didn’t think she did.
She didn’t answer. Looked confused and scared and sad.
His wife looked sad.
“Will you come to New York with me?” he asked. Trying a simpler route.
“I can’t leave work. I’m trying to buy this place, and the deal closes soon.”
“I’ll make sure you can travel to look over the bar several times a year,” he offered. “I’ll make sure the deal closes fine. Come to New York with me.”
“What? Are you asking me to move to New York and leave my entire life here behind?”
“What did you think this was, Hannah?”
“I thought this was us seeing if we had a shot. You are the one who started this whole thing.”
“You are the one that left me in the first place.”
Anger was rising. He tried to retrace his words to figure out how this had gone from seeing his wife happy to fighting in a bar and his heart being slowly suffocated like a heavy boot was pressing down on it.
“I can’t move to New York, Grant.”
He stared at her lovely face. Watched that single lock of hair slip off her ear and brush her face. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers through it.
She glanced down at her hands and lightly chewed on her bottom lip. “Why don’t you stay here?” she said softly.
Grant frowned. “There’s no way I can stay here, Hannah. I have a company and responsibilities in New York. I can’t live in Yachats.”
She faced him fully, something like hurt and anger washing over her face. “Why the hell did you come here, then? Why were you pushing for us to work if you can’t live here?” Then her eyes went wide. “You assumed I’d leave my Podunk small-town life and just follow you.”
The realization sounded blunt when she said it like that. But yes, that was what he’d thought.
“I’m offering you the best of both worlds. You can visit Yachats. Have your bar.”