Page 93 of Capturing Love

I gazed around in awe.

“Every season here is amazing,” he continued. “My grandmother was a painter, and she filled the garden with an assortment of plants so each season would bring something new and beautiful to inspire her.”

“Sounds like my sort of lady.” I grinned.

Grayson’s cheeks grew pink. “You sometimes remind me of her.”

“Did she swear a lot?”

He let out a laugh and shook his head. “Like a sailor.”

* * *

As we sat down for dinner, the doorbell rang.

A moment later, Adam walked into the dining room, shrugged off his winter jacket and handed it to Max. “Good evening, all.”

We hadn’t seen him since he walked out of the office Christmas party and had been ignoring Grayson’s messages all week.

Caroline jumped out of her chair and wrapped her arms affectionally around her eldest son. “Adam, you finally made it. We feared you’d get snowed in, leaving so late.”

William stood up and shook his hand firmly. “Well done on the Ferguson deal.”

Adam smiled tightly as his eyes panned across to the two of us.

“Adam,” Grayson greeted shortly.

His brother nodded. “Gray.” And then to me. “Josie.”

“Hi,” I responded, hoarsely.

Caroline’s lips pursed. “Oh, so you’ve already met your brother’s new…friend?”

Grayson’s hand slid under the table and over my knee, giving it a squeeze.

Adam grinned at his mother’s response. “It seems we met a while ago.” His eyes sparkled as they met his brother’s tense gaze.

Everyone settled down into their seats and started their meals.

“So, just how long has this…been going on?” Caroline asked as she cut up her steak.

Adam smirked. “I’ve been wondering that myself.”

Grayson cleared his throat, and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now,” he replied as honestly as he could.

Grayson’s grandfather seemed to notice the tension and attempted to change the subject, but it only got worse.

“What do you do for a living, Josie?” William asked, speaking over his father.

I finished chewing my food and placed my cutlery on my plate. “I’m a photographer.”

“Oh, an artist. Like my dear Betty.” Grandpa’s eyes sparkled as he smiled.

Grayson nodded and caught my eye. “Josie is really talented. I keep telling her she should have her own exhibition.”

I laughed nervously. “No, the magazine keeps me busy enough.”

A silence lulled over the table, and I realised I’d fucked up. Big time.