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My throat goes dry. “What made her do that?”

“She said you didn’t go to prayer meeting last night. She was worried you might be sick.”

Meddling old cow. My teeth clench, but I force a happy face. “It’s actually Ruby who’s sick. She has a stomach bug. I should probably make some soup and take it to her.”

Dad waves a hand. “Linda makes better soup than anybody. We can have some of this.”

Crisis averted. Not that I’m ashamed to tell my father about Gray and me. I just want to do it in my own way, gently. Dad’s recovery is a big part of my plan to move out, to get my own place. I can’t stay here with him forever, and if I want to convince Gray we can start a life together, I need to start by having my own life.

We stand at the bar to eat. Dad takes down a tumbler and pours himself a drink. Tonight, I can’t be upset about it. It’s been a hellish twenty-four hours, and I need a little strength for what I’m about to say.

“I invited a guest over for dinner tomorrow night.” I tap my fingers on the granite countertop as I wait for his response.

“Why would you do that?” His voice is strained, but I can’t let it stop me.

“Grayson Cole has ben back for a few weeks now… I think we should have him over for dinner.” Dad starts to shake his head, but I cut him of

f. “I already invited him. He’ll be here tomorrow at seven. I’m making Frogmore stew.”

My father’s head bows, and I watch as his hand forms a fist on the top of the bar. Without another word, he puts the fork on the plate and picks up the tumbler.

I step up and catch his arm. “I want you to give him a chance. He was Danny’s best friend.”

Our eyes clash, and I see turmoil swirling in his. I don’t know why he responds this way, but I won’t let him ruin my dinner plans.

“Please, Dad.”

It’s the last thing he hears from me before he turns and walks out of the kitchen.

Chapter 28

Gray

For the second time this week, I’m standing in front of the Harris mansion, looking up at the enormous white entrance.

It’s not as late this time, and as I wait for someone to answer the door, my eyes land on dry rot taking over the top left corner. Tracing my gaze down to an enormous window, I see the wooden shutter is home to a bird’s nest.

A crack is running in a zigzag line along the brick in the far exterior, and something about noticing these little cracks and imperfections sparks that protectiveness in me. I want to take Drew away from this place…

What right do I have to think this thought? I can’t take care of her any better than her own father.

The door opens, and our eyes meet. The anxiety I’ve been fighting since our night at the amusement park melts, and I open my arms as she steps into my chest, placing her cheek right above my heart.

“I’ve missed you,” she sighs. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

We texted briefly last night, but I know what I told her has been weighing on her. I see it in her eyes. They’re not as bright as they always are. It makes me feel like a dog. I only want to make her happy.

She steps back, and I let my eyes run over the white dress she’s wearing. It’s high-necked and sleeveless, tight down to her waist, but the bottom flairs out. It stops at her thighs, giving me a nice view of her long, shapely legs.

“You look beautiful.”

She smiles, and even though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, I pull her fingers to my lips. “You look handsome as always.” She gives my hand a pull. “Dad’s waiting in the kitchen. I made Frogmore stew!”

“It’s my favorite.”

“I know.” She leads the way, and I watch her cute little ass sway beneath that skirt as I follow her across the threshold into this massive home where I was never welcome.

It’s actually my first time inside the main house, and walking through it now, I take in the ancient furnishings, portraits, and mirrors that line the walls.