by Harlow Grace
Carmen grinned, her humiliation forgotten for a moment. Thank God I was there to help her.
Her gaze went over my head to someone behind me. “Help me up please. We’re in the way.”
I turned my head, thinking it might be her uncle. I needed to give the man a piece of my mind for allowing this to happen. Stunned, I looked up to see Grayson instead. How long had he been standing there?
He took a few long strides toward us and kneeled down next to me. His brow was knitted with concern. “Let me help you, Layla. I’ll lift her.”
I blew out a sigh of relief. My knight in shining armor to the rescue. “Carmen, this is my stepbrother, Grayson, and he’s a doctor. Grayson, this is one of my patients. I call her Miss Brightside because she’s such a trooper.”
“Hello, Carmen. That’s such a lovely name. I love meeting pretty girls and even more so if Layla is taking care of you.”
Carmen giggled and fluttered her lashes at him. Goodness, she was only ten years old and she was already caught by his charm. I chuckled softly.
“I said something funny?” His eyebrow shot up as he gave me a bemused look.
“You’d charm the panties off a nun,” I replied as I winked at Carmen.
The way his lips curled into a wicked grin was hot as hell. Funny whenever we were in a situation like this—and there had been several over the years—there was usually no awkwardness, just a mutual understanding of what to do to help somebody in need. But today there was something between us that I couldn’t put my finger on.
Something extra.
“Well, you’re in luck today, Miss Brightside. Dr. Handsome has really strong muscles. Feel here.” I lay my hand on Grayson’s arm and squeezed. Oh my. My stomach fluttered as he smiled down at me and Carmen, making a funny face as he flexed his muscles.
“You think I’m handsome, do you?” The mischievous twinkle in his eyes was unmistakable.
“Maybe.” Hell YES, I do.
His arm was rock hard and so fucking sexy, I had to clench my thighs together for a few seconds. Holy hell, what was he doing to me that made my body react like this? I quickly withdrew my hand and turned away, not wanting him to see the effect his closeness was having on me.
Carmen laughed and replaced my hand with both of hers. Her mouth gaped as she squeezed his bicep. “Wow, they’re hard as rocks. Guess Layla’s right, you are strong.”
“He’s going to pick you up okay?” I kept my gaze on Carmen even though I could feel him watching me.
Trying my damn best to keep my voice even, I asked, “Will you please carry her back to her Uncle? I need a word with the man.”
Grayson lifted her as if she were a feather. From the corner of my eye I watched as he bent down and planted a light reassuring kiss on her forehead. I loved how he wasn’t afraid to show affection or kindness. His lips on anyone’s forehead would make their day, and even Carmen wasn’t immune to his sweetness.
Her body relaxed into him and she placed her head against his chest. “Mum and Daddy have been fighting a lot. I hate it when they scream at each other.” The forlorn expression on her face tugged at my heartstrings. Her sad eyes begged me as she continued, “Please don’t tell Uncle Tim I fell down, because if he tells them, I’m scared they’ll start fighting again.”
Alarm bells went off in my head. Carmen had also mentioned that her mother was at the doctor earlier. Caring for a disabled or injured person could put a huge strain on any relationship, no matter how stable. I made a mental note to speak with Carmen’s mother the next time they came to therapy. Maybe she needed extra help coping with her daughter.
Grayson’s gravelly voice interrupted my thoughts. “Layla, I understand that you want to have strong words with Uncle Tim, but leave this to me, okay? You keep Miss Brightside busy and I’ll have a talk with the man and explain how to care for his niece when she is under his supervision. Is that okay with you?”
My eyes misted up and a frog lodged itself in my throat, so I just nodded. It would be hard to hide my anger in front of Carmen. I guess Grayson understood her fears as much as my need to not have anything like this happen to the little girl again.
“Thank you,” I said simply.
“Always,” he said softly.
God, Grayson’s an angel.
“And by the way . . . you looked amazing taking care of Carmen. You’ll be a wonderful mum one day to some very lucky kids.”
I laughed. “I’d need a husband first.”
His eyes shone with something I couldn’t name. “Lucky, lucky man. I wish it could be me.”
Really? My mouth opened and closed again. I was speechless.
Stunned, I stood watching his wide back as he strode off with Carmen in his arms into the restaurant in search of her uncle. My cheeks were on fire as I followed him, not taking my eyes off his ass.
7: Layla
“Thanks for helping me with Carmen and her uncle. You handled that so professionally.” I smiled up at him as we quickly made our way back to our table. Everyone would be wondering why we’d been gone for such a long time.
Grayson laughed. “You’re welcome. It’s all part of my training and compared to some of the things I need to tell family members that was easy.”
My stepbrother was nothing short of amazing. In a firm and authoritative manner, he’d explained to Tim that his niece could not be left to her own devices under any circumstances. When the uncle came up with the lame excuse that he wasn’t a female and couldn’t go into the ladies room, Grayson reminded him that the wait staff would most probably have been happy to assist Carmen if he’d only have asked.
For a moment his expression grew serious. “I’m so proud of the way you settled Carmen so quickly. You really have a knack with your patients. Carmen loves you . . . nearly as much as I do.” He stopped in his tracks, gripped my shoulders and gently pulled me to him before brushing his lips over the top of my forehead, sending shivers down my spine.
Relax, Layla. It’s just a Grayson thing. He kissed Carmen’s forehead too. It’s what he does to settle people, he’s done it to you a thousand times before. It doesn’t mean anything.
He pulled away and in a playful voice, he added, “I wish I had a sexy physiotherapist like you when I had those sports injuries at school. I may have actually looked forward to the treatments. Instead it was like damn torture with Miss I’ll-fix-you-even-if-I-kill-you.”
Sexy? Don’t read anything into it, girl.
Miss Watson’s reputation for being a sergeant major style physiotherapist was still a joke around campus.
“Luckily she’s retired and gone off to Scotland.” I laughed and carried on walking back to our table.
“Well, I’m almost tempted to play sport again just so you can be my therapist.” His voice was low and husky, as if he really meant it.
I turned and swatted his arm. “Don’t be silly. And I can be tough too when I need to be. Don’t test me,” I warned, both hands on my hips.
“Lala, you are too sweet to ever be mean. I have no doubt you can be firm when needed, but there’s a difference to being bitchy just for the sake of it and telling someone what they need to hear and do. Miss Watson had a score to settle with the male population.”
He cleared his throat. When he spoke, his tone of voice had changed. “Promise me something?”
Shrugging, I eyed him suspiciously. I hated making promises I wasn’t able to keep, so it was a motto of mine to never make agreements idly.
“Depends on what it is.”
“Promise me to stay as sweet as you are. Your innocence is refreshing.”
What the hell did that mean? Did he think I was naïve?
“I . . . um—” Luckily we’d reached the table and everyone’s eyes were on us, so I didn’t answer him.
“What took you so long?” Mum asked as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “The food arrived and since everyone was starving, we started without you.”
My gaze stayed glued to the
chair that Grayson had pulled out next to him. Thankful, I sat down, my knees feeling uncharacteristically shaky. My mouth salivated when I saw my salad. Maybe I was hungry after all and had hit a sugar low.
“So tell me about the shopping. Found a dress?” Grayson directed his question at Sloane who sat next to me, yet his eyes were trained on me. I pretended not to notice and took a big bite of salad, keeping my jaws occupied with chewing so I didn’t say anything stupid.
From my peripheral vision I could see he was frowning again, as if something bothered him. Every time the subject of the ball came up, something about him changed subtly.
I wasn’t opening that can of worms. My dress, or rather lack of a dress, and my date with Seth wasn’t any of his damn business. And more importantly, I was determined to ignore the way he was staring at me. Yet, I couldn’t help a small shiver running up my spine. The man was unnerving me big time.
Sloane rambled on about how difficult it was to shop with me. Apparently Grayson was amused with her story as he laughed out loud several times. He’d dug into his food and carried on asking her questions between mouthfuls. He focused on her completely which of course, made her practically fucking glow.
Chewing on another mouthful of lettuce, I nearly choked as my gaze fell on Seth and his mother entering the restaurant.
Of all the places in Sydney, they had to choose this one?
Then I remembered that my mother and his usually played tennis on Tuesdays and Mum had mentioned they often came to Tony’s afterwards for lunch.
I let my gaze run over Seth. He looked hot in a fitted pair of jeans that sat low on his hips and a skin tight sleeveless t-shirt that showed his ripped biceps to perfection. He had a scowl on his handsome face that lifted the second he spotted me.
Seth’s wide mouth turned up in a smile. He tugged his mother’s arm and pulled her in our direction.
“Hello, Mrs. Forbes,” he greeted Mum as he got to our table. Much to my astonishment he leaned right over and kissed me on the lips. “Hey, babe. Ready for tomorrow night?”
“Babe?” Grayson questioned, his voice low and ominous; I swear he actually growled.
Believe me, I'm just as stunned.
Seth had never called me babe before. And he chose now to do it? Here in front of everyone, including our mothers and Grayson?
“Hello, Norma.” Mum greeted Seth’s mother with a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi Alice, how lovely to see you and your kids out for lunch.”
Mum laughed. “Yes, it’s not often we all get to come here together.”
The two older women exchanged a few more pleasantries as I shot up a prayer. Please don’t invite them to sit with us. It would just be plain awkward.
Sloane and Taylor giggled, both staring at me with big eyes. Taylor gave me the thumbs up signal behind Seth’s back. Clearly she approved. But Grayson had seen his sister do it, and judging by the expression on his face, he was less than pleased. It looked as if he was going to burst a vessel in his forehead. But I was more worried about the way his fists kept opening and closing as he glared at Seth.
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.
Men and testosterone.
Seth turned his back to Grayson, completely ignoring him. “Can't wait to see you all dressed up. I bet you’re going to be a knock out,” Seth said, smiling down at me.
Who, me? Was I in some sort of dream?
“You leave that part to us,” Mum said, smiling at Seth and Norma. “I have a few ideas for my lovely daughter that I’m sure you’ll love.”
“Really?” I said, unable to stop the words spilling from my mouth. What the hell was I? Some social experiment?
My gaze shot to Grayson. His eyebrows were knitted together and the knuckles of both balled fists had turned white. Why was he so against me going to the prom with Seth? He’d told me about Seth’s boasting and that he strongly disliked Seth’s older brother, Hawke, but it hardly made sense.
A minute later, much to my relief, a waiter appeared to show Seth and Mrs. Matthews to their table.
The awkward silence after they left was filled by Taylor’s gushing. “You’re a lucky girl, Sis. Seth’s hot as hell.”
“I think he’s crazy about Layla,” Sloane said, “because she treats him like she does all the other boys and his ego can’t stand it. He’s used to girls fawning over him. But not our Layla—she’s making him work for it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I wished everyone would just find another topic and leave me alone. All this fuss was giving me a damn headache.
Interrupted by the ring of a phone, I sighed with relief.
“Oh, that’s mine. Please excuse me,” Sloane said as she pulled her phone out from her purse. She rose from the table to take the call outside.
Grayson’s good humor had evaporated. I'd never known him to be a moody person and his behavior was confusing the shit out of me. My stomach twisted into such a tight knot that I could barely eat any more food. Luckily Mum and Taylor kept blabbering on, so I didn’t need to contribute to the conversation.
Moments later, Sloane returned, her complexion pale and tears in her eyes. I rushed to my feet to comfort her, placing my arm around her shoulder. “Hey, hon, what’s the matter?”
She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a napkin, clearly upset.
“Sit down,” I coaxed, pushing her down gently into her chair.
Her shoulders slumped forward. “Um, it's Jeremy. He can't make it to the ball tomorrow night. His grandfather died this morning and he has to leave to go to the funeral in Melbourne. He can't be my date and there’s no way I’m going alone.” Tears ran down her cheeks and my heart went out to her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I gasped, feeling really bad for Jeremy. It had been touch and go for a few weeks as his grandfather had battled against lung cancer.
“Don’t cry, Sloane.” Grayson sounded genuinely concerned for her. I watched as his hand covered hers and squeezed. “Tell you what . . . if you want, I can be your date.”
Sloane blinked up at Grayson, a smile breaking through her tears. God, she looked so beautiful and vulnerable in that moment. “You’d do that for me?” she said, her voice shaky.
“Of course. It's sad what happened to Jeremy, but that doesn’t mean you should miss out. I’ll find my formal suit when we get home and have it dry cleaned tomorrow.”
What the hell just happened? Was I going to be sitting at the same table as my stepbrother at the ball?
How was that going to work with my plans of trading in my v-card?
Feeling eyes burn into me, I looked up and locked eyes with Grayson. While he was patting Sloane’s hand, his gaze was fixed on me. The satisfied smirk on his face blew me away. He had a plan. If only I knew what it was.
8: Layla
After another two hours of going from one shop to another, both Sloane and I had finally each bought a dress. Grayson had left us after lunch, excusing himself politely. Thank God. I couldn’t bare much more of his stares and Sloane cooing over him like a love struck teenager. It was all a bit much, so I’d taken the first dress that wasn’t too awful just to get it over and done with.
Sloane was on a renewed mission to get herself all beautified and blabbered on non-stop about how awesome Grayson was to step up. It made my head hurt.
After the dress hunting, it was time to find matching shoes and underwear. After numerous arguments with my mother about the suitability of certain shoes—and totally losing the battle—I settled on a mid-heeled sandal.
I’d break my neck on sky-high heels and apparently flat shoes were completely banned from being worn with evening dresses. It didn’t make sense to me, I was a practical woman. For starters, I preferred buying something that I'd wear again and I was certain there weren’t too many formal functions in my near future. Besides, who’d even know I was wearing a pair of flat and super comfy shoes under my dress?
By the time my mother announced that the next stop was her beauty th
erapist, I wasn’t surprised. In fact I was relieved to be able to just get away from all the constant chatter about ball gowns and what color lipstick would suit my skin tone best.
All I wanted was to just listen to meditative music while someone else pampered my face and body. Mum had booked me in for the whole enchilada: body scrub, facial and waxing. I'd never been prodded, poked and pummeled as much in my life.
It was more exhausting than any assignment I’d ever worked on.
“I'm having French polish on my nails please.” I said to the technician who was giving me a manicure and pedicure. How Mum did all of this on a regular basis was beyond me.
In my next life I wanted to be a man—all they needed to do to get ready was to have a shave, shower and get dressed. Nobody frowned if they wore comfy shoes with their tuxedos.
9: Layla
“Ah, Bella, today I turn you into a princess.” Mario said with a wink as I planted my ass in his chair. “Just leave it up to me. You will see.”
I’d survived the dress shopping and beauty therapist the day before, so how bad could hair and makeup be. Mostly I was looking forward to the massage chair that would knead the tight knots out of my back and shoulders. And the complimentary glass of sparkles.
The big night was only hours away. Mostly I couldn’t wait for it to all be over.
“Nothing radical, Mario,” I warned, scrunching my nose as the bubbles hit my nostrils. “I still want to recognize myself when I walk out of here, okay.”
Mario looked at me with a wounded look on his round face. “What . . . you don’t trust me, Bella? That hurts my feelings, you know. Your Mama, is she not beautiful? All my work.” He pushed his chest out, pride beaming on his face.
“Yes, she’s gorgeous and you make her look amazing. But I don’t want that kind of look. I don’t want—”
“To look beautiful? You don’t want every man in the room wishing you were his?”
“Oh God, no!” I said, horror lacing my voice. “I don’t want anyone looking at me.”
That’s a lie. Only one man. He can look all he wants.