"Oh, that? We were just settling a bet."
Shane tilted his head. "I think you're good for him. And I had hoped he would be more willing to listen to us now that he's found happiness with you." Embarrassment gripped me. How would this man feel when he found out the truth? Maybe there was no reason for him to. If Grayson hadn't simply up and left without even saying goodbye to me, I could have asked him. And why had Charlotte set this up? I had thought she wanted to see Gray and me together. I couldn't understand it, and I couldn't help feeling betrayed even though I couldn't figure out exactly why.
"Well, he didn't kick you out anyway, right? That's a start."
Shane smiled. "Yes, that's a start." He stood up, offering me his hand. "Charlotte and Walter are having dinner with friends. She put something in the oven and it's just about time to take it out. Join me for dinner?"
I took his hand and stood up. "Sure."
We went inside and he took Charlotte's stuffed chicken out of the oven and I mixed up a small salad. We sat and ate together as Shane told me about the software business he'd started in San Diego. It sounded like he loved it, and it allowed him to work from home as well.
"So you had no interest in making wine?" I asked, taking a bite of salad.
He shook his head. "No interest and no skill. Computer technology has always been my thing. When my father left me a little chunk of money, I used it to start my own firm."
I nodded. "Well, luckily your brother did want to make wine."
He nodded, but his expression was somber. "Yes, luckily."
I told him a little bit about myself, skirting around the fact that I was estranged from my father—it would only invite questions. Once we'd eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, I told him I was going to head to my room and read since it'd been a long day and I was tired. More truthfully, though, I was nervous he was going to start asking questions about Grayson and me that I wasn't prepared to answer.
After getting ready for bed, I decided to send Grayson a quick text. I had felt like we were building something between us, though I refused to try to define it at this point. Surely he was upset and vulnerable right now with the unexpected arrival of his brother and ex-girlfriend. Perhaps he could use a friend. I grabbed my phone and typed in: Are you okay? —K
I waited several minutes, but when there was no response, I picked up my book and tried to focus on the story I’d been reading. When Grayson still hadn't sent me a message an hour later, I turned off the light and hugged my pillow, closing my eyes and trying desperately to will myself to sleep despite the early hour.
**********
I came awake with a start, the feel of strong arms lifting me out of bed. I struggled, kicking out with my legs and flailing my arms until the person holding me let out a loud, "Oomph," dropping me on the soft bed and coming down next to me. My eyes met Grayson's in the semi-darkness, his expression pained as if I'd made contact with something vulnerable.
"What are you doing?" I hissed, coming up on my knees. I could feel my hair a wild mess all around my face and down my back. He rolled to his side and lay looking up at me, his head on my pillow, his eyes dreamy looking.
"You were supposed to be in my bed tonight," he slurred.
"Your bed?" I asked. "You expected me to . . ." I leaned in, inhaling. "You smell like liquor and cheap perfume." I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice. He was likely too drunk to notice anyway.
Grayson came up on one elbow. "Some blonde was all over me at the bar."
"Oh." What was I supposed to say to that? I fisted my hands on the tops of my thighs, despairing. His ex shows up so he goes to a bar and lets a stranger grope him? Why couldn't you have come to me, Grayson?