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Graham had created a grand gesture to show his love, and it had backfired. Or maybe fizzled. What could he have done differently? Just grabbed her in his arms and kissed her?

He froze, still staring at Jude’s face on the phone in his hand. Maybe that’s exactly what he should have done. It would have prevented him from saying more things to be misconstrued. It would have prevented her from talking, too. He liked the sound of her voice — he did — but he liked the sensation of her lips against his even better.

His eyes shuttered as he relived the amazing kiss from weeks ago now. Why couldn’t they do that again and again? Why did his awkwardness have to mess everything up?

“Sleeping on the job?”

Graham’s eyes sprang open, and he shoved his glasses up his nose to see his grandfather better. “No, sorry. Thinking.”

The old man’s gaze narrowed at him. “Deep thoughts, by the looks of it.”

“Have you ever been misunderstood because you didn’t know how to make your thoughts clear?” As the words came out of Graham’s mouth, he winced. Of course not. Grandfather was smooth, a born leader, good in front of people with never a hint of awkwardness.

Grandfather lowered himself into his desk chair and swiveled it to face Graham. “All the time.”

“Really?”

He chuckled. “Yes, of course. I spent so many years focusing on Sullivan Enterprises that I honed my business acumen to the detriment of my personal skills. I have many regrets. Most of them have to do with your grandmother.”

Did Graham even want to know? But it seemed important to.

“I loved her. I did. But I rarely showed her that truth in a way she could find comfort in. I wanted to provide a life of ease, and I succeeded. I wanted her to have the best of everything. The house, the travel, the social niceties. I would have given her the moon on a platter if it had been at all possible.”

Graham nodded. He felt the same stirrings to offer everything to Cadence that Grandfather described. He’d already done what he could — maybe more than he ought — to free her to make her own choices.

“What she wanted was me.” Grandfather looked down at his hands clenched in his lap. “I didn’t think I was that great. I was sure I knew better, that she’d appreciate a whirlwind trip to Greece more than a quiet week with me. She’d see me for who I was. A man focused on business and unable to access his emotions.”

“I’m not sure I want to hear more.”

Grandfather leaned forward on his elbows, his gaze skewering Graham’s. “And for that reason, I think you need to, boy. Because I see a lot of me in you.”

“Not so, sir.” Graham shook his head. “Tate, maybe, or even Bryce. They have an easy way about them, a confidence like yours. I… I don’t have that. I understand numbers, but people? Not at all.”

“Confidence can be faked.”

Maybe, but Graham wasn’t persuaded any of the Sullivan men were doing so. Even Dad and Uncle James exuded innate composure. Could they all be pretenders, but everyone else faked better than he did? It wasn’t possible.

“I see you don’t believe me. But the real point is how you love. I let your grandmother down, boy. I figured it out, at least somewhat, in the last few years before her passing. After that, to fill my emptiness, I did the only thing I knew how, and that was pour myself back into the business and take you boys with me.”

Graham had seen the evidence, so he cautiously nodded.

“I’ve pushed everyone as hard as I’ve pushed myself. My sons. All you boys. I’m sorry.”

Graham blinked and refocused on the old man. “Sorry? For what?”

“For making any of you think that money was more important than relationships. That hotels mattered so much. You know that story Jesus told about how hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God? It’s true. I’ve seen it in so many associates in my circles. We feel we are self-made. That we don’t need anyone, that God is a myth or, if He isn’t, we don’t need Him, anyway. We treat ourselves like gods.”

Huh. Graham needed to think on that.

“But what is most telling is how we treat those we love. 1 John 4 tells us, ‘Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.’ It goes on to explain what that love looks like: ‘In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him.’ And what was Jesus like?”

It seemed the old man awaited a reply.

“You mean besides dying for us.”

Grandfather nodded.

“Well, He spent time with people. Healing them, teaching them about His kingdom, simply… being with them.”