Page 76 of The Elusive Billionaire

Marriage? A real, legal marriage? What the hell was I thinking?

Is there a test for witchcraft? The longer I spend in Savvy’s presence, the more I believe that she might have cast a spell on me.

The walk up my driveway was faster than when we left. Cian must have put down the plywood that’s creating a path and making the hike less treacherous. At least I’m not covered in mud by the time I walk up the front steps.

I’m not even surprised to find Moose sitting on an overturned bucket, puttering around on the porch with a piece of wood and what looks like a paring knife.

“Grey.”

“Moose.”

He smirks at my cool tone. It’s why I like this old guy so much. He doesn’t ramble about nonsense like Pops does.

“Cian was up here a bit ago with an engineer. Structurally, the place is in good shape, but it’s got a bit of cosmetic work that needs to be done.”

“I figured.” The chairs that used to be here are probably swinging from the treetops, so I slide to the floor beside him and watch as he whittles something out of an old piece of wood.

“You and Savvy made quite the entrance in town today.”

So much for not using unnecessary words.

“I did not create drama. I gave a solution to a problem that my last name created long before Savvy was even born.”

Moose does one of his dramatic head nods in slow motion but says nothing. It’s his way of forcing someone to talk, but I don’t typically fall for it.

Monroe has me all out of sorts though.

“I didn’t have a choice, Moose. She may have made a mistake as a child, but it’s chasing her now because of her connection to me and my fucking DNA.”

“Hmm.” He flicks his knife, and wood shavings fall to the floor. “Have you ever thought about not taking on the past as if it’s your burden to bear?” He doesn’t look at me when he speaks, and it makes it easier to talk to the guy.

“Isn’t it though? Ace may have saved Savvy once and unknowingly put a target on her back, but I’m the one the media has been after since my father went to prison. I’m the one with enough zeros in my bank account to draw attention as if I’m some dark prince with salacious secrets. Savvy’s past proves that. She’s being dragged through the mud now because my name is attached to her story.”

“You know, Greyson, sometimes in life, the only thing we can do is take accountability for our own actions.” His words roll off his tongue in a slow, soothing cadence. “You don’t owe anyone anything more than that, and by becoming the fixer for everyone who has ever come in contact with the last name Wells, you’re only hurting yourself. You have one life, son. Do you really want to live it constantly cleaning up after the devil himself, or do you want to live your life for you? See what your future could be?”

“Not everyone is given a choice in how to live their life, Moose. Some of us are meant to quietly pick up the pieces while eliminating further devastation.”

“Is that what you’re doing with Savvy?” Thankfully, there’s no judgment in his tone. It makes it easier to absorb his words. “Are you rescuing her by actively keeping her in the spotlight this way? Or are you clinging to her because you’re finally feeling what it means to be alive?”

My head hits the wall with a thud. Where Savvy’s concerned, I don’t know anything anymore.

“Go on now, grab your stuff, and get over to the Hideaway. I’m keeping an eye on Cian so he doesn’t wreck our sanctuary.”

“It’s okay. I told them I’d be back tomorrow.”

“And I’m telling you.” He points at my front door with the sharp tip of his knife. “Get your shit and get over there. You’ve publicly claimed that girl, now there’s no telling what kind of fight you’re bringing to her door. If Madi and Braxton’s situation taught us anything with those pushy reporters, it’s that you can’t leave anything up to chance.”

I want to argue, but he’s right.

“She needs you, Grey. Maybe even more than you need her.”

“I don’t?—”

“Don’t you though?”

“There you are,” Cian’s voice fills the silence. “Grab yer shite, and I’ll give ya a ride back into town. Your little Mercedes just sunk into a mud hole.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, but text Quinn to order me a new SUV. “Can this day get any worse?”