He nodded. “I know. I get it, now. I do. The press was always pretty decent to me and my show but I’ve seen how they twist things when it comes to you. I should have realized that sooner. I should have given you more time to explain. I guess I was embarrassed because I felt like I’d been tricked, but then I saw your interview and I realized how you must have felt about, well, about what happened to you. I see how you got caught up in all of it and it wasn’t fair. I’m really sorry about that, Lane. And I never would have sent you back to the hotel if I’d known the press was there waiting. You do know that, don’t you? I feel terrible about that.”
“That wasn’t your fault.” It wasn’t his fault he smelled so good either. She couldn’t possibly stay mad at him when he smelled this good.
“I still feel terrible,” he said.
“Well, I still feel terrible about lying to you in the first place. So where does that leave us? Both feeling terrible?” She looked up at his face and wondered if she’d ever get tired of seeing it. His eyes, his smile, his subtle dimples.
“I have a much better idea,” he said, smiling down at her, and she had her answer. She knew for sure, she’d never get tired of any of that.
“What’s your idea?” she asked, pressing against him, feeling the heat from his body and nearly melting from it.
“We start over. Tell me about yourself. Tell me the stuff that’s real.”
She sighed, a big happy sigh, and the world seemed to right itself after being off-kilter for far too long. “Well, for starters, I’m Delaney Masterson and I live here.”
Grant’s gaze dropped to her lips. “That’s a good start. What else?”
“My parents are both famous, I’m regrettably infamous, and I swear to you that everything that happened between us in bed, everything I said about my feelings, that all was true. Every moment, every word. Do you believe me?”
His hands moved up from her hips to cup her face, and he looked into her eyes so long she wondered if he’d forgotten the question.
“I do believe you. Let’s promise from here on out, no secrets. No lies. Always tell me the truth and I’ll do the same. Even if it’s not comfortable. It’s the only way I know how to do this and be able to trust that it’s real.”
She loved him so much.
SoMuchSoMuchSoMuch.
“Yes, OK. We’ll always be honest. Absolutely honest. I promise. In that case, can I ask you a question?” she whispered.
He nodded. “Anything.”
Her heart thudded in her chest, crazy fast. “Do you think it’s possible you could ever fall in love with Delaney Masterson?”
His eyes sparkled, and he leaned forward until his lips were very nearly touching hers.
“I already have. I just didn’t know it.”
And then he kissed her.
EPILOGUE
“ARE YOU SURE YOU KNOW what you’re doing?” Tyler asked. He was leaning against the doorframe of the dressing room at St. Aloysius Church of the Immaculate Conception while Grant stood in front of the mirror. Scotty and Carl were there too, and looking good. The men of this family cleaned up nicely when they were all in tuxes. Which they were. Donna was there as well, looking happy and vibrant in a dark purple dress that Lane had picked out just for her, saying it was the perfect complement to his mother’s ivory complexion.
Grant smiled confidently back at his brother. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Ty. Getting married is the smartest decision I’ve ever made. I’m certain of that. And anyway, weren’t you the one who told me when you know, you just know?”
Tyler chuckled. “Probably, you dumbass, but what I meant was, do you think you can manage to tie that bow tie on your own, because it looks like you’re trying to strangle yourself.”
“Here, let me help,” Carl said, stepping forward. “I’m pretty good at these. I used to be quite dapper, back in the day.”
“You’re still dapper, sweetheart,” Donna said.
Grant relinquished his grip on the tie and turned to let Carl give it a try. The guy wasn’t nearly as useless as Grant had once thought. In fact, over the last several months, the old sloe gin pusher had really come through. He was taking excellent care of Donna and she was doing remarkably well. No stealing, no gambling. No meltdowns at the Bob Evans. Grant liked to think his being home more often had something to do with that, but he knew deep down, the real reason his mother was better was because she was working hard. She’d come a long way since stealing Lane’s bag back in January.
Now it was May and the Bell Harbor snow had finally melted. Spring was in the air. Flowers were blooming. Birds were chirping, and Grant Connelly was getting married.
“There,” Carl said, giving the tie one last tug. He patted Grant on the shoulder. “You look good, kid.”
Donna sniffled, but her eyes were bright. She dabbed a tissue to her nose. “You do look good, so handsome. All you boys are so handsome. I’m so blessed. And before we know it, Scotty will be getting married.”
Scotty took a step backward. “Don’t start with that, Mom. Let’s just get through this wedding first, OK? Without the waterworks?”
“I can’t help it.” Her smile was tremulous. “I’m just so happy.”