She made a sound in her throat like I’d just insulted her very core. “To talk with my son.”
But she didn’t say anything else, and she didn’t leave.
I guess we were fucking dancing.
“Something on your mind, Mom?
“If you really want to know…the house is atwitter with gossip.”
“Isn’t it always?”
She rubbed her jugular. “A Cinderella story, some are calling it—don’t give me that look, Grayson. I don’t know what else to call it, either, when you’ve stolen your sister’s girl and stowed her away in your wing.”
I looked out the window. “Don’t call it anything.”
It was an overcast day. The beach colored in muted shades of gray from the steel ocean to the smoky sky and ash sand.
She scoffed musically. “You’ve always been such a smart boy.”
Wait for it…
“So I’m certain I don’t need to worry. You’re smart, Grayson, so you must have seen something I couldn’t see in her. I know you wouldn’t…” She took a big breath. “Jeopardize something that’s decades in the making—”
“Mom,” I cut her off, looking back.
“Hmm?” She gave me a wide-eyed, innocent smile, which, if you knew Tansy Crowne, you know is nothing more than a smoke screen.
I knew what my mother wanted; she wants me to say I was letting Snitch go. I was sending her back.
But I still pictured all the places I’d give her bruises.
The arch of her ankle. The inside of her thigh. Her naked pussy, her naked lips—
I scraped at my nail with another. “I’m not done with her yet.”
For an instant, Mother’s perfect mask dropped. Then she smiled sweetly and said, “Well, I should go say good morning to your sister, then.”
I ground my jaw. “I’m not done yet. I’m not jeopardizing shit. Lottie doesn’t even know about the marriage.”
“Your grandfather has taken a particular interest in the bastards lately,” she continued softly. “They go on vacation with him like you used to.”
I snorted.
Vacation.
Funny word for child labor.
“Worried I’m falling out of favor?”
There are only five people who wear the Crowne last name, but when my dad died, suddenly things like bastards became relevant.
Without me, this whole thing crumbles. My mother, who needs me to keep her world spinning. My sisters, who have no idea the threats she hangs over their heads behind closed doors. My grandfather…well, he honestly would replace me with a fucking bastard.
Mom tsked like what I’d said was ridiculous, placing a palm on my cheek. “That’s impossible.” With her palm still on my cheek, she glanced at the door. “I’m just so happy you’ll have a real marriage. A happy one.”
Unlike hers, she meant.
But Lottie wasn’t just the girl I’d loved since I was a child; she was the only choice for Grayson Crowne, the heir. The only choice for my mother, my sisters, my grandfather.