Page 107 of My Grape Crush
Maybe he doesn’t know any better.
And, maybe, work is all he has.
Last night, when Rhys cooked a big fat Greek feast for me, JC, and Gia in the villa, he mentioned a woman named Jasmine King, the feisty daughter of a Hong Kong billionaire and Sawyer’s long-term girlfriend. They were destined for the altar, and something blew up. Exactly what, nobody knows. Jasmine disappeared. Sawyer refused to discuss it. JC said he’s never been the same.
I think of that now. Deep down, a vague ribbon of hope runs through me. I touch his arm and smile. “Rhys would love it if you came. JC and Gia will be there too.”
Sawyer glances at my outfit and then lifts his eyes to mine. Written all over my face is the message: we’re in this together. Let’s make the best of it.
His brow cocks. “Party like it’s 1999?”
“Toga optional.”
Finally, a laugh. “Bedsheets were never my thing. Not a good look on a paper-pusher.”
I gauge his expression and find it as light as his tone.
“Dani!”
At the far end of the tents, Rhys wildly motions for me to join him.His golden, bright beauty blazes in a brilliant smile. So different from thirty minutes ago, us trembling under the night sky, my body twitching from aftershocks. Rhys was very hot, his skin on fire against mine. What we witnessed was once in a lifetime. A fusion that knocked the breath out of me. Never mind that Rhys came all over my toga for a second time.
“That was incredible!” I’d gushed, meaning in every way possible.
And Rhys, still breathing hard, had said, “I told you he was the Trenton with real talent.”
“Number one, I beg to differ. But,” I paused to catch my breath and center my still-melting core, “those two. Together.”
His eyes swept over me, a quick, loaded glance. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
On a quiet and still August night in Vancouver, Rhys and I watched the sunset at Kitsilano Beach while he shared what went down with JC years before. Online news stories tell the tale of JC's musical career and subsequent breakdown, but my heart crumbled with Rhys's first-hand account during the hard first weeks of darkness. JC, broken and crying in the palazzo, his mental demons closing in.
A wound still festers, that I can tell. Different from the fallout with his father.
“It will be okay,” I assured him. “We’ll both watch out for him.”
Rhys hugged me tight, squeezing all the remaining air out of my lungs. “Thank you,” he had whispered. “For being my person.”
Sawyer elbows me, and I snap out of the memory haze.
He chin-nods at the still-waving Rhys. “Go make my little brother happy.” And then, with softness in his eyes, “He deserves it.”
I drop a quick kiss on his stubbled cheek that smells like musk and expensive leather. “Thank you for everything. Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”
And I wind my way through the spirited crowd to that smile of pure joy, shining on me, the luckiest woman in the world.
Chapter Thirty-Four
RHYS
December 29th
Corfu, Greece
Like Forrest Gumpinfamously said about a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get with a Corfu sunrise. The morning sky is as delicate as a sigh. An unfiltered, jaw-dropping canvas painted bright pink with streaks of golden yellow. With the colors reflected on the glassy, still surface of the Ionian Sea, it’s impossible to tell where the sky ends and the water starts.
Hands down, this will be my favorite sunrise.
The first one with Dani in my heart, and in my house.
