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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Emory

I smiled as I typed out an update on the Jerkers file for my dad. The local grant money had caught up their back payments, and Allison had won a state historic preservation grant to come in later this year, as well.

She really was damn good at her job, and Brenda had offered us both free MoonShakes for life. Win-win.

A new email appeared in my inbox. Not from Dad, though. It came from [email protected]. Dallas.

Subject line: Just talk to me

“I don’t think so,” I murmured.

I smashed the Delete button, sending it to the abyss. I’d blocked Dallas on social media, but maybe that wasn’t such a good thing if he was trying to reach me at work. What if he showed up here and claimed to have a meeting with me?

My stomach tightened at how the hell I’d explain that.

Dad leaned in through the open doorway, a coffee cup in his hand. “Hey, Emory, did you finish the paperwork for the Livingstons?”

I blinked, trying to wrangle my thoughts back to work. “Uh, yep. Also, I sent you an email about the Jerkers funding. They’ve got more coming in soon.”

Dad brightened as he entered my office. “That’s great, Emory. You know, when I handed you those delinquent cases, I knew you’d hate doling out the bad news. But you really went the extra mile to help those folks.”

“I couldn’t help them all,” I said, guilt twisting at the foreclosure call I’d had to make that day. Someone had lost their home, and I didn’t take that lightly.

He took a seat in front of my desk. “Sadly, that’s life, and you’ll have to accept some bad outcomes cannot be avoided. But you made a difference for the Morrisons and the Forrester Auto guys.”

My stomach flip-flopped at the mention of Gray and his brothers. “They still have all that debt, and they had to risk their house as collateral.”

Dad sipped his coffee. “You gave them the chance to pay it off. Now it’s up to them to see it through.”

Shayla approached the doorway. “Am I interrupting?”

“Nope.” Dad stood up. “Just came by to remind Emory of the Movers & Shakers Brunch on Sunday. I just RSVPed for you since you’d apparently missed the three reminder emails to get that done.”

I was hoping he wouldn’t notice that. I should have known better.

“Sorry, Dad. I’ll be there.”

“Is there room for one more?” Shayla asked. “I’d love a chance to make more connections too.”

Dad hesitated. “Sorry, Shayla, but it’s past the date to add seats.”

Her face fell. “Oh. Right.”

“She could have my seat,” I offered.

I hated the schmooze-fest events Dad kept sending me to. It was just lucky for me that Gold Community Bank had a reputation that did most of the heavy lifting for me. I was no good at networking. I detested the dick measuring and douchey boasting that happened at these events.

Dad frowned. “Sorry, Emory, you need to be there. We’re part of the community, and one day, you’ll take over for me. It’s best you get comfortable being the face of the bank.”

He stood and patted Shayla’s shoulder. “We’ll get you out at the RiverFest. You can work the booth.”

“Sounds great.” She smiled and nudged him as he passed. “Coffee at 5:00 p.m.?”

“Something’s gotta get me through that last hour,” he said with a chuckle.

As soon as he left, Shayla dropped into a chair with a groan.

“Tell me about it,” I said.

She gave me an incredulous look. “Are you complaining about a free breakfast at a fancy restaurant with all the big money in town when I have to go sit at a booth for eight hours in the sweltering sun and talk to every random Joe who wants to know how to open an account or complain about bank fees?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

She huffed. “You don’t even get how lucky you are.”

My insides twisted. I should appreciate the role I played here. My dad put his trust in me. He wanted to prepare me for ownership of a cornerstone business in Riverton.

“You’re right, Shay. I’m just not great with rich douches.”

She laughed. “That’s our whole job, isn’t it?”

“Nah. I like working for the people in our community who need our help. The first-time homebuyers. The small entrepreneur with a business idea.” I shrugged. “These spoiled assholes aren’t my cup of tea.”

“I guess that’s commendable,” Shayla said as she stood and tossed an advertising proof on my desk. “Just came by to get the official okay on this.”

It was an ad about our sponsorship of a youth event that was coming up.

“Looks great. You don’t really need my approval.”

She shrugged. “You’re technically my boss. I kind of need your approval for everything I do.”

After she left, I finished up some paperwork, then shut down my computer and headed out. Gray had texted about meeting up, saying he’d buy dinner this time.

Meeting him after work was getting to be a habit. Even if he hadn’t texted, I would have headed that way. Ever since my overnight at his place, we’d seen each other nearly every day—except the one evening my parents had invited me over for dinner.

Mom kept asking me if something had happened with Allison. “You seem more content than usual,” she’d said.

I wouldn’t have equated Gray with contentedness , but maybe talking about Adam and the guilt I felt about his death had lightened the weight on my chest a bit. Plus, seeing all that Gray lost gave me some perspective. I still had my parents, my home. So much to appreciate.

I wondered what horrors Gray’s brothers had been through. It was a wonder they all functioned as well as they did, but then Gray had mentioned his foster mom getting them all into therapy.

Maybe that’s why Gray was so good at giving me the space to be me without any pretense or hiding.

I could breathe when I was with him. I could taste the freedom of a life without the weight of expectation.

Gray accepted me as I was. I could see it in his eyes. He didn’t judge me or find me lacking. And damn, I sure as hell liked him too. Probably too much if my mom was noticing how content I was.

But that didn’t stop me from getting in my car and driving straight to the auto shop to meet Gray as he finished up work for the day.

I parked and entered through the open garage door. Gray was putting away tools. A single motorcycle stood in the narrow space between a large SUV on a lift and the wall. A smaller sedan was parked on the other side of the garage.

“You’re all staying busy,” I said. “I guess that’s a good thing.”

Gray turned with a smile. “It sure is. Especially since we brought on Matteo.”

I approached. “You didn’t have to hire him if it was too much.”

“Nah, it’s a good thing.” Gray drew me into his arms. “At a small business, margins are always tight. But Matteo is a good guy. He deserves a chance.”

“Allison is really grateful.”

“Allison, huh?” He bent to nuzzle my nose. “What about that cute banker guy I wanted to impress? Do you think he’s grateful?”

“Maybe,” I teased. “He’s pretty easy.”

Gray slipped his hand down, grasping a handful of my ass. Guess his brothers were already gone, then.

“As long as he’s only easy for me,” he murmured.

My heart fluttered. Even though we should be keeping it casual, I was powerless before his dark, intense eyes.

“Only you,” I agreed.

His mouth came down on mine, hot and wet and greedy. I threaded my fingers through his thick, silky hair, groaning as his tongue stroked mine.

I was aware of a motor, then a car door.

We broke the kiss, both looking toward the open garage door.

Marty stood there, gaping at us.

Oh, god.

I looked over his shoulder. The car we’d heard was already driving back toward the highway.

“What the hell?” Marty said, sounding baffled. “ Emory ?”

“Marty.” I swallowed the bile trying to rise in my throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Me?” He sounded incredulous. “I’m here for my car.”

He waved toward the sedan, and how fucking stupid was I? I should have recognized his black Honda Civic. There were a few in town, but Marty had told me he was having car problems. I’d even suggested he bring it out to Forrester Auto.

“We close at six,” Gray said, voice tight. “We gave up on you twenty minutes ago. You shouldn’t be here right now.” He shot me a panicked look. “No one is supposed to be here right now.”

“Sorry,” Marty said. “I had to catch a ride from my aunt, and she was running late. I didn’t mean to walk in on?—”

“Did she see?” I asked, stomach lurching.

“No, she dropped me and drove straight off. I didn’t even see until I got closer. But…what did I see, Emory? Are you two?—”

“There was nothing to see,” Gray cut in. “I made a pass. I thought he was interested, but I was wrong.” He looked at me. “I’m sorry.”

I looked from him to Marty, conflicted. I wasn’t ready to out myself, but this didn’t feel right. There was a flicker of pain in Gray’s eyes I couldn’t ignore. This must have been like déjà vu to him after what happened in this same garage when he was a teenager.

“No.” I put a hand on Gray’s arm. Took a breath. “Don’t lie for me. I’m not going to let him think that about you. I’m not Dallas.”

Marty looked confused. “ Dallas ?”

I shook my head. “Long story. How about I make some introductions?” I turned to Gray. “Gray, you remember Marty from high school, right? He was one of those yearbook kids always harassing everyone for pictures and quotes. Now, he works for an advertising firm doing pretty much the same thing. He’s one of my closest friends.”

“I remember, yeah,” Gray said, extending a hand to shake. “Any friend of Emory’s is a friend of mine.” He squeezed Marty’s hand and bared his teeth. “Assuming they’re a true friend, of course.”

“Okay, ouch,” Marty said. “No need to break my hand. Emory knows he can trust me.” He sent me a hurt look. “At least, I thought he did. Maybe I was wrong.”

My heart dropped. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I do trust you. Nobody knows about it. It’s new.”

“Not even Allison?”

“Okay, only Allison knows.”

Marty rolled his eyes. “She would find out before me. That woman knows all your dirty secrets.”

“This is not dirty ,” I said sharply.

He winced. “No, I know. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not a bigot.” He shot a wary look toward Gray, who’d taken a step toward him at my reaction. I reached for Gray’s hand, lacing our fingers, and squeezed gently to reassure him.

“I just meant she’s always the first to know everything,” Marty continued. “Like that time you got grounded for a month, and you were too embarrassed to tell us it was because you got drunk and puked in your mom’s rosebushes? But Allison knew.”

Gray snorted a laugh, and I glared at Marty.

“How about you not tell my boyfriend all my embarrassing stories?”

Marty looked more stunned, if possible. “Boyfriend? So, this is serious.”

Shit. No. This wasn’t supposed to be serious, but here I was, introducing Gray, and I couldn’t bring myself to dismiss the importance of our relationship.

He deserved better than that.

“Yeah.” I wet my lips and cast a nervous look at Gray. “But it’s complicated.”

“I guess it would be,” Marty said. “Damn, and I was feeling sorry for myself over Sasha avoiding my calls. I guess I have it easy in comparison.”

“Why isn’t she taking your calls? Did something happen?”

Marty shrugged and shuffled his feet. Gray caught the hint and cleared his throat. “I’ll go get your paperwork ready so you can take your car.”

Marty pulled out his wallet and handed over his bank card. “Here. Thanks.”

Gray headed for Holden’s office. When he was gone, Marty broke into an embarrassed grin.

“We kissed.”

“No shit?”

His smile dropped. “Yeah, but then she got cagey the next day. I really thought she was into it too. I don’t know.”

“Tell me everything.”

While Gray was in the office, Marty gave me the rundown of bumping into Sasha at the grocery store, helping her carry stuff to her car, getting an impromptu dinner invite, cooking with her and meeting her kids, and then the spontaneous kiss at her door when he left.

“I don’t know what came over me, but I actually made a move.” He shrugged. “Maybe it was all your advice to have more confidence.”

“I’m proud of you.”

He smirked. “Me kissing a girl I’ve liked since high school seems like nothing compared to…” He waved his hand toward the office, where Gray was probably lingering to give us a few minutes to talk alone. “Unless… Were you into Gray in high school? Are you gay or?—”

“I’m bi,” I said. “I never really figured it out until after college. Or maybe I did, but I ignored it. I dated women, and that was easier, you know? But there was all this pressure when Allison came home. It just started to make me feel trapped in a way I never had before. The desire to figure out what this side of me was, how it would feel to be with a guy, just kept growing. And then I ran into Gray…”

Marty shot a look at the office. “Gotta admit. He’s not the kind of guy I’d have imagined for you.”

“Really? Who would you imagine for me?”

“I don’t know. Someone more like you, I guess. A lawyer or an accountant or?—”

“So someone boring?”

Marty laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just someone more from our social circle.”

“Gray is such a great guy. I hate the way people write him off because he was a foster kid and likes tattoos. So what? I like his ink. It’s sexy. He’s so hot and sweet, Marty. How could I not be into him?”

Marty nodded slowly. “I’ll have to take your word for that.”

“Come on. You can admit he’s gorgeous, even if you’re not into dudes.”

Marty’s gaze tracked Gray as he came toward us in grease-stained jeans, a dark T-shirt molded over his shoulders and pecs, his dark hair falling in waves around his face.

“I guess I can see it,” Marty mumbled.

“Hey, Gray,” I called. “Marty thinks you’re hot.”

Gray’s eyebrows went up, a smile tugging at his lips. Marty slugged my shoulder. “Shut up. That’s not what I said. I have no interest in guys.”

Gray reached us and held out Marty’s credit card, a receipt, and a key fob. “Don’t worry, Marty. I’m only interested in golden boy here.”

Marty took his belongings from Gray. “Golden boy?”

“Just a stupid nickname he has for me,” I muttered.

Marty snickered. “Kind of appropriate, though.”

Gray grinned. “See? He gets it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now you both want to gang up on me. I see how it is.”

I was acting put out, but the fact my friend and my boyfriend were teasing me together? It wasn’t something I’d ever thought I could have. Wasn’t something I’d even imagined.

But here and now, two parts of my life were coming together and making me just a little more whole. I’d compartmentalized my bisexuality for such a long time that I didn’t realize how much I was confining a vital part of who I was.

I wasn’t ready to leap out of the closet and tell my parents—much less the whole town. But I was glad I’d told Marty. Glad I could show more of myself to a friend who had always been there for me.

Maybe I couldn’t take Gray home to meet the family, but I could let him further into my life. I could introduce him to my best friends and share this amazing new part of my life with them.

That was no small thing.