“Go,” Reed murmurs when I don’t move from the railing.
As usual, I instinctively obey his command. It’s like he has a hold on me and I’m not sure I like it. But I’m helpless to stop it.
I walk downstairs on wobbly legs and find Callum in the study. He’s already hit the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a glass of scotch when I walk in.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly.
He waves the glass in his hand, causing liquid to splash over the rim. “I’m fine. It’s fine. I’m sorry you had to wake up to that.”
“Do you think it’s really over with you two?” I can’t help but feel bad for Brooke. I’ve seen a bitchy side to her, definitely, but she’s also been nice to me. Or at least I think she has. Brooke Davidson is a tough nut to crack.
“Probably.” He sips his drink. “She wasn’t entirely out of line. Two years is a long time for a woman to wait.” Callum sets the glass on his desk and runs a hand through his hair. “The reading of the will is scheduled for two weeks from tomorrow.”
I look blankly at him. “The will?”
“Yes. Steve’s will.”
I’m still confused. “Didn’t that already happen? I thought you said there was a funeral.”
“There was, but the estate hasn’t been settled yet. Dinah and I started probate after Steve’s death, but the reading itself was put off until you could be located.”
I bet Dinah must have loved that. “Do I really have to be there? Doesn’t Dinah inherit everything because she’s his wife?”
“It’s a lot more complicated than that.” He doesn’t elaborate. “But yes, you need to be there. I’ll be there, too, as your legal guardian, and so will Dinah and our lawyers. She left for Paris last night, but she’ll be back in two weeks, and then we’ll get everything straightened out. It’ll be painless, I promise.”
With Dinah O’Halloran in attendance? Yeah right. Painful is more like it.
But I just nod and say, “Okay. If I have to go, I’ll go.”
He nods, too, and picks up his drink again.
* * *
Callum takes off shortly after to play golf. He claims that walking the eighteen links helps clear his mind. I worry about how loaded he plans to get and then remind myself that he’s the adult and I’m the seventeen-year-old, so I bite my tongue.
One by one the Royals leave. Gideon heads off before lunch to go back to college. He always looks happier leaving than arriving.
Soon it’s just me. I heat up leftover quiche and then consider going for a walk on the beach.
It’s only been a month at the Royal household, but that month has been full of, well, life. Stuff is always happening. It’s not always good stuff, but I haven’t been alone, and until now, in this moment of solitude, I realize I don’t like being alone. It’s nice to have friends and family around, even if the family is super dysfunctional.
I wonder if that’s the reason Gideon keeps coming back.
“Did you save some of that egg thing for me?” Reed’s voice makes me jump.
I slap a hand over my heart to keep it from leaping out of my chest. “You scared me. I thought you left with Easton.”
“Nope.” He crosses the room to peer over my shoulder. “What else is in the fridge?”
“Food,” I answer.
He tugs on my hair playfully—at least I hope it’s playfully—and goes to investigate his options.
Door in one hand, he stands in front of the fridge—leans, really, with the other hand braced on the cabinet—until the entire room is cold with refrigerated air.
“Problem?” I take a break from eating so I can admire the sexy line of his body and the way his muscles bunch and flex as he rummages for food.
“Don’t suppose you’d make me a sandwich?” he says from somewhere in the interior of the refrigerator.
“That’d be a no.”
He slams the door shut and joins me at the table, ripping the plate and fork from underneath my nose and then shoveling half the quiche down his throat before I can even protest.
“That was mine!” I reach over and try to wrest it back
“Sandra would want you to share with me.” He holds me off with one hand…again.
Damn. I need to start a weightlifting program. I try one more time to grab the plate back, and this time Reed doesn’t fend me off. He pulls me in and the surprise move makes me lose my balance. I end up tumbling into his lap with my legs splayed on either side of his broad thighs.
My attempts to wriggle free are put to an end when he clamps one hand around my butt and pulls me against him. When he kisses me, I can’t help but respond eagerly, wanting him to make those husky noises that tell me how hot I get him.
“You left this morning,” I say when he releases my mouth. I wish I could stuff the words back in, because I’m afraid he’s going to say something hurtful.
“Didn’t want to,” he replies.
“Why’d you leave?” All my pride is left on the floor, but my weakness doesn’t turn him off.