“That’s easier. I’ll pick you up at your place at six.”
“How do you know—oh, you heard me tell the driver. I don’t mind meeting you somewhere.”
Was that what she was used to? Men who didn’t bother to pick her up at her home? He could be that man if it meant she would continue to see him as she had the night befor
e. Just an ordinary man.
Wealth was a blessing and a curse when it came to dating. The more zeros a man had in his net worth, the easier it was to find female companionship. The difficult part was knowing that some were more attracted to his money than they were to him.
Some pretended not to be, but when he took them out they wanted to be on display. He didn’t doubt that many of them would have pandered to almost any fetish he claimed to have, but for the wrong reasons. If he wanted to buy that kind of sex he would have hired an escort, but he never had. For him, there was nothing sexy about fucking someone who wanted his wallet more than his cock.
Viviana was different. She had no idea who he was, and yet she’d wanted him every bit as much as he’d wanted her. With her it was raw and real—and addictive.
How could he not want one more day of that?
As he thought about what kind of date he would have planned if he were a man with very little money, he decided he liked the idea of meeting her somewhere. Where would a man take a woman if he couldn’t afford much? “I’ll meet you at Quincy Market at six. We can get a sandwich or something.”
“On me?” she joked.
He smiled as he remembered that she’d bought the drinks at the juice bar. She probably thought he’d arrive without his wallet again. And yet she said yes. His heart thudded loudly. “How about if I pay for dinner and you buy dessert? Have you tried the cannoli at Carol Ann’s Bake Shop? They’re as good as—I hear they’re as good as anything you could get in Italy.”
“Sounds nice. I’ll see you there at six.”
“Yes. I’ll text you when I arrive.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
After hanging up, Grant took a moment to savor the afterglow. No, I’m not being entirely honest with her, but if things work out I’m sure she’ll forgive me for being filthy rich. I’ve never met a woman who had a problem with it.
He looked down at his still semi-erect cock. Calm down so we can go in the house. Don’t make this awkward.
His oldest brother, Asher, held his young son up to knock on the window of his car and Grant’s problem quickly disappeared. He opened the car door and stepped out. His nephew, Joseph, had grown considerably in the short amount of time since he’d seen him. Before too long he’d be speaking. “We were about to head in but Mom was worried that something was going on with you. Everything okay?”
“Of course,” Grant answered. Joseph opened and closed his hands at Grant in a motion that meant he wanted to be held. Grant accepted him with the ease of an uncle who had not only held him many times but had also changed his diaper a time or two. Emily, Asher’s wife, had joked that he’d handled the first mess with less drama than her husband had. The compliment had not come as a surprise. Grant tended to handle every crisis, major or minor, with less fanfare than his older brother. “What a big man you are. And so heavy.” He pretended to drop him. Joseph giggled. Asher didn’t. It was almost comical to see his normally over-confident brother hover like a new mother.
Emily joined them and whistled appreciatively. “Nice car.”
Asher frowned at the sports car then gave Grant a long, assessing look. “Where’s your suit?”
Grant shrugged. “I felt like wearing jeans today.”
Asher made a speculative sound deep in his throat.
Emily laughed. “Grant, that’s his way of saying you look nice.”
Grant smiled and gave his sister-in-law a kiss on the cheek. “Emily, you don’t have to translate Asher for me. I know what he’s thinking, but I’m in too good of a mood for it to bother me.” He tickled Joseph’s stomach, making him giggle again. “Who’s your coolest uncle? You know it’s me.”
Andrew pulled in and parked his car behind Grant’s. He waved then walked around to open the door for his fiancée, Helene. Hand in hand the two headed over, and it was a sight that warmed Grant’s heart. Not too long ago the family had worried they’d lost Andrew. No one had been able to break through his PTSD to reach him—until Helene. She’d won over the entire family when she’d brought him back into their lives. Grant felt as protective of her as he did his younger sister, Kenzi, and that was another reason he’d taken on the role of family detective. He would uncover the truth, and he hoped when he did it painted her uncle in a better light. Stiles had said he was responsible for Kent’s death, but what that meant was purely speculation. If there was even the slightest good in what her uncle had done, Grant would uncover it for Helene’s sake.
Andrew gave Asher a loud crack of a pat on the back then turned his attention to little Joseph. “What are you feeding your kid, Asher? I swear he doubled in size.”
Asher smiled with pride as if the growth of his child were by his command. “He’ll be tossing footballs with me before long.”
Grant lowered his voice and stage whispered, “Don’t worry, Joe, I’ll talk to your mom about how all that head cracking leads to brain damage. There’s still hope for you.” Then he turned to Helene. “How is that African elephant doing?”
A bright smile lit Helene’s face. “Good. She’s settled in and they’ve already introduced her to her herd. We were right there to help with the transition.” She hugged Andrew’s arm. “I am so grateful to be a part of it this time and to have Andrew to share it with.”
Andrew pulled her to his chest and kissed her forehead. The look of love on his face was so pure, so unfiltered, that Grant cleared his throat and blinked a few times as emotion took him by surprise. As he searched for how he’d lost one brother, the reality of how close he’d come to losing a second was unsettling.
Whatever the truth was about Kent, Grant wouldn’t let it threaten the life Andrew was making for himself. Not on my watch.
The insertion of questionably clean fingers into his mouth brought Grant’s attention back to Joseph. He pulled the little hand out and looked around for a napkin. Emily held one out to him, but when he released the imp’s hand to reach for it, Joseph solved the problem by wiping his hand on Grant’s T-shirt. “Okay then,” Grant said and laughed, tossing the napkin back to Emily. “I guess I don’t need that after all.”
Andrew laughed along then slugged Grant in the arm. “Hey, have you been working out?”
Since middle school, and we probably bench press the same amount. “Have you been showering? I’m not getting the full zoo aroma,” Grant joked instead.
There was no use trying to convince his brothers he wasn’t a nerd who hid behind a desk all day. They had an opinion of him that he’d cemented in high school by participating in international chess competitions. Back then it hadn’t been about the win as much as studying the strategies of the greatest at the game. More than once Grant had let an opponent who needed the cash prize win. He knew his trust fund balance to the penny and could not in good conscience let another man leave the table without the prize if he needed the money. When Grant threw a match, he did it so well no one was the wiser—he was that good. His brothers had never understood how he could enjoy something he wasn’t the best in. How could he lose—publicly—and not feel badly about it? Grant didn’t bother to try to explain it to them. It would have been like talking to a lion about deciding to go vegan.
Perhaps because their father, Dale, had suffered such a public loss with his career—his brothers didn’t back down. They refused to come in second place. It had been too difficult for any of them to attend any of Grant’s matches once they weren’t sure of the outcome. They didn’t understand when the collateral damage would have been too high, the loss was a win.
Andrew lifted Joseph out of Grant’s arms. “You don’t mind if I smell like a zebra now and then, do you? Do you?” He tucked Joseph against his side and asked the group in general, “Is Lance coming today? I haven’t seen Wendy and Laney since they came home from the hospital. How is he surviving all that estrogen in his house?”
Before anyone could answer, another car pulled into the driveway. Kenzi and her husband, Dax. Behind them came an SUV with
Lance, his wife Willa, and their month-old babies, Wendy and Laney. Ian arrived as they were still unloading.
“Looks like we’re all here,” Grant said.
“Are you coming in or should I have lunch served out there?” his mother called from the doorway, but she was smiling. Over the last two years the family had multiplied and each new addition brought them closer to being the family they always should have been.
“We’re coming, Mom,” Kenzi called out between hugging everyone. Dax was at her side, smiling and shaking hands. Kenzi couldn’t have chosen a better, more loving husband, but he wasn’t comfortable with physical displays of affection.
Normally Grant felt the same, but that day he decided to fuck with him just because he could. He walked over and gave him a good, back-thumping hug. “Good to see you, Dax.”
Dax stood immobile, neither refusing nor accepting the action. When Grant stepped back, the cautious look of concern on Dax’s face was priceless. “Good to see you, too, Grant.”
Kenzi completely misread the exchange and beamed a smile at both of them. “It really is good to be together, isn’t it? I know we’re all busy, but when we get together it’s worth it.”
Looking frazzled and tired, Lance and Willa joined them, both balancing baby carriers, diaper bags, and an assortment of toys. Grant swooped in to relieve Willa of little Laney as well as the heavy diaper bag. He nodded for Ian to do the same for Lance and wasn’t surprised when Ian chose the toys and bags over the baby. None of them had been around babies much before Joseph was born and Ian still wasn’t comfortable around even him. He didn’t like surprises or messes, and Joseph was a constant supplier of both. Grant didn’t tolerate chaos in his workplace or his checkbook, but the kind of trouble Joseph brought wasn’t trouble at all. After all, what investment was more valuable than the next generation? “Hello, little Laney. You look more like your mother every day. Beautiful.”
Willa laughed and sighed. “Not feeling too beautiful yet. I told Lance we didn’t need a nanny, but if these two don’t start sleeping on the same schedule I may change my mind.”
