Page 24 of Blame It on the Bikini (Ocean Shores #4)

Chapter Thirteen

Lexie had spent Saturday shooting a wedding and wondering if Grayson remembered everything he'd done, everything he'd said, or if the night was a big blank. When her phone had buzzed with a text from him at five o'clock Saturday evening, her heart had nearly stopped.

She'd stared at the message for a full minute before typing back: Yes! Absolutely.

His response had been immediate: Good. See you tomorrow.

No mention of Friday night. No reference to the brownies or their conversation at Chuck's Chili, just businesslike efficiency that could have meant anything—that he was fine with what happened, or that he was so uncomfortable he wanted to pretend it never occurred.

Now, standing in front of her bathroom mirror Sunday morning, she applied sunscreen and tried to manage her expectations for the trip.

Grayson was a man who kept his word. He'd told her he would take her to Joshua Tree, and he might just be fulfilling a commitment he'd made before she'd drugged him.

Whatever the reason, she had a chance to spend time with him, and she was going to take it.

She also would have an opportunity to photograph one of the more interesting locations in Southern California, so it was a win-win.

At least, she hoped so. She still didn't know how Grayson felt about his unexpected high now that he was sober, but when a knock came at the door, she knew she was about to find out.

She opened the door and gave him a smile, her gut clenching at the sight of him. He wore tan slacks and a cream-colored polo shirt, looking unfairly handsome in the morning light.

"Ready to go?" he asked with a smile that seemed genuine.

"Absolutely." She grabbed her purse and her camera bag, then locked the door behind her. "I'm glad you still wanted to go."

"Of course," he said as they walked out to the parking lot.

She was a little relieved there was no one else around. Not that this trip was a secret, but she'd been generating a lot of gossip since the brownie incident.

Sliding into the passenger seat of his car, she fastened her seat belt and let out a little sigh.

He gave her a questioning look as he started the engine. "What was that sigh about?"

"Just relieved we didn't run into anyone. I've been getting a lot of questions…"

"Got it," he said as he pulled out of the lot. "I've been getting a lot of curious looks, but the only person who was brave enough to ask me about my experience with the brownies was Kaia."

"I told her not to say anything."

"I'm not sure she knows how to not say something," he said dryly.

"What did you tell her?"

"That all I could remember was a fun walk on the beach and some great chili fries."

"Is that all you can remember?"

He shot her a look. "No. I remember the rest of it, Lexie. It all has a bit of a hazy glow, but I know what we did, and I know how I felt."

"You were a much more cheerful version of yourself."

"Apparently, I get happy when I get high."

She laughed. "Was that the first time for you?"

"It was," he admitted. "I've never done any drugs. Too busy studying or working. Plus, I like to be in control."

"That makes sense. I'm sorry I inadvertently took that control away from you."

"Stop. We're not doing this for the next two hours. You already apologized. So did your aunt. It was an honest mistake. And when you knew I was in trouble, you came to find me and you stayed with me."

"That wasn't hard. You were pretty funny, especially when you were talking to the seagull."

A smile lifted his lips as he stopped at a light and their gazes met once more. "While I do remember what we did, I don't remember everything I said. Hopefully, it wasn't too embarrassing."

"It wasn't. You just used a lot of superlatives. It was fun to see you unguarded, open, not thinking about what you said before you said it."

"Is that how you see me?" he asked curiously. "As someone guarded, closed off, deliberate in what I say?"

"Yes," she said honestly. "You don't see yourself that way?"

He didn't answer immediately, then said, "I don't like to think of myself that way, but I can't say you're wrong.

I grew up with parents who weren't that interested in what I had to say.

When I was a kid, I loved to read, and I liked to tell my parents about my books, but my mother would be bored within sixty seconds, and my father would cut me off and say he wanted to hear all about it but maybe another time.

Eventually, I realized there wasn't really any point to trying to share my books with them. "

"That's kind of sad, but I can also relate.

I learned early on that I'd get more attention if I liked the things my parents liked.

With my mom, it was clothes, makeup, jewelry, and workouts.

With my dad, it was the law. When I gave that up, he and I had nothing to talk about, and while my mom still keeps in touch, she also doesn't really care about photography or Ocean Shores or my aunt Josie.

Since I'm not around to shop with her, our conversations are very short.

Plus, she feels like she has to take my dad's side.

And he thinks I'm throwing my life away, so she doesn't want to support that. "

"You're not throwing anything away. You're following your passion."

"I thought I was doing that, but I wasn't fully committed to taking the real leap into the unknown.

Instead, I filled my days with jobs to make money.

I've always been practical. I was raised to understand that work is about money, so it didn't feel right to not do anything to make money.

To that end, I filled up my day with jobs I told myself were side gigs, but they took over all my time.

Strangely enough, you were the first person to actually call that out.

I'm sure my friends probably wondered what I was doing, but no one came right out and asked me. "

"Is that your way of saying thank you?" he asked with a note of humor in his voice.

"I suppose. Anyway, I feel like I'm getting onto the right track.

I was talking to Josie about it the other day.

She's always been the one person in my family I can speak to without guarding my words, and she's incredibly supportive.

Of course, she also walked away from a very lucrative career, so she can understand why I did the same. "

"Why did she walk away?" he asked curiously. "She won an Oscar. That seems pretty incredible."

"She's never really told me the whole story.

She just said she felt used and betrayed by people in her circle: her husband, her agent, and her friends.

I think there might have been infidelity and a love triangle, but those were just rumors I read when I looked online to see what had been written about her.

At any rate, she told me there came a point when she felt like her entire life was make-believe, and she wanted to live in a world that was real, where people didn't lie or pretend.

So, she left Hollywood. I guess she traveled around for a few months before she made it to Oceanside.

She rented an apartment at Ocean Shores, and she's been there ever since.

Thirty-five years. It's a long time, Grayson. "

"I'm aware," he said shortly.

"I don't want to talk about the possible sale," she added.

"I just want to say one thing, and then we'll change the subject.

Ocean Shores gave my aunt a family and friends.

Even people who have come and gone over the years stay in touch with her.

They send her photos of their kids, of their children's wedding, of their first grandbaby.

The community isn't a static thing. It changes as people need more space and move on, but while they're there, it's everything.

And even after they leave, they keep in touch.

" She took a quick breath, wanting to get it all out before she had to shut up.

"When I first moved in after I left my law job, I was really spinning, not sure I'd made the right decision.

Most of my friends were still lawyers and still in LA, so I didn't really have anyone to talk to, but I found even better friends in the building.

Anyway, that's all I'm going to say about it for now. "

"For now," he echoed.

"Well, I can't promise forever."

"I know. And, Lexie…" He glanced over at her. "I heard you."

"Okay. Good. So, you said you used to love to talk about books. What are you reading right now?"

"You don't want to hear about my current read," he said with a laugh.

"I really do. I like to talk about books. I'm even in a book club with some of the women in the building. Although we tend to drink more wine than chat about the book at our meetings, but I still read. So, what's on your nightstand?"

"A twelve-hundred-page book titled The Power Broker about Robert Moses, who was in power in New York for over forty years and shaped the development of the city.

It's his biography, but there's so much incredible information about the time period, the backroom deals, and how politics played out in the local and state government. It's fascinating."

"Wow. You're an overachiever even in your choice of books. Twelve hundred pages?"

"Something like that," he said. "It's a doorstop, but it's fascinating."

"How long will it take you to read it?"

"Probably a month or more. I don't have a lot of time to read. But it's very well-written. The author puts you right into the story. I feel like I know Robert Moses. I know the people he's dealing with."

"Does it inspire you for your own work since you are selling and buying buildings and are a part of the development community?"

"It's inspiring, but it also makes me wary. There were a lot of shady deals going on back then, and I'm sure there are just as many now. It reminds me to be on my guard. Now, your turn. What's on your nightstand?"