Grayson's Vow

The car was waiting in front of the house and the driver looked me over with wide eyes when I descended the stairs. "Wow," he said, "that is quite the costume." He took my suitcase and opened the door, offering me his hand, but his eyes moved over me appreciatively.

I smiled. "Thank you," I said, climbing inside the car and gathering my long, poufy gown around me and arranging it as best as I could so it didn't swallow me up. This gown was the main reason I wasn't driving myself. I would never fit behind a steering wheel. The dress was a confection of black and deep green satin and tulle, the skirt made larger by three hoops. It was strapless and had a built-in corset that made my waist look tiny. I'd accessorized it with long, black, sheer gloves. Black jewels wound around my neck, and a wide-brimmed, sheer witch’s hat completed the look. My hair was left long and made even wilder than it normally was with the help of a curling iron. I was wearing bright red lipstick. My eyes were rimmed in black, and my mask was black and covered only my eyes, making them look even more cat-like.

I had considered a number of costumes, and in the end, this was the only one that felt right. I'd leave Grayson as I arrived to him: his little witch. No, I thought dejectedly, not his. Never his. Despair swirled in my belly with the knowledge that this would be the last night I'd spend time at Hawthorn Vineyard. Maybe this costume was really just my pathetic way to privately acknowledge my love for him. I wanted him to accept me as I was. All of me. Instead, Grayson wanted my body and nothing more. What a fool you are, Kira. A stupid, desperate fool. I would never be enough in his eyes, just as I'd never been enough in my father's eyes, or even in Cooper's. I needed to be enough in my own eyes, and for now, that would have to be okay.

The drive seemed to take only moments, and I forced myself to breathe deeply. Thank goodness I was wearing gloves. I was sure my hands were cold and clammy.

My car pulled to a stop, and when the driver opened the door and I took his hand and stepped out, I sucked in my breath, my heart dipping into my stomach and then rising again.

The fountain was filled with water, splashing softly as it cascaded from the top tier down to the shimmering pool below. The pinks and purples of approaching twilight filled the sky and offset the golden lights of the fully lit house. The ivy was trimmed and tended, the window boxes on each balcony filled with lush greenery and white cascading petunias. The scent of roses, and what I now recognized as hawthorn flowers, drifted on the breeze rustling the now beautifully landscaped foliage. I turned slowly in a full circle, taking it all in, noticing the twinkle lights that filled the trees leading up the driveway, adding to the magical ambiance. It was gloriously beautiful, captivating—the perfect setting for a fairy tale.

How I wished it were mine.

Taking a deep sustaining breath, I pulled my shoulders straight and nodded once to the driver, who handed me my suitcase and nodded back.

The only vehicles in the driveway were a catering van and two other cars that most likely belonged to the musicians I'd hired, which meant I'd made it in perfect time to greet the first guests. I'd be greeting them with Grayson by my side. For just a moment, panic threatened to shatter my composure, but I took another deep breath and brought my chin up, whispering a quiet prayer to my gram, asking her to send me strength. Then I relaxed my shoulders, reassuring myself.

You can do this—one final thing.

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