Greer’s eyes darken as a stunned sputter flies from her mouth. “Your what?”
“Girlfriend.”
“Why would you tell them that?”
Okay, not the reaction I was hoping for. “They have photos of us making out. I wanted to protect you. What would you have preferred I say?” A muscle jumps in my jaw as I cross my arms over my chest. She acts like dating me is on par with contracting the flu. “Being my girlfriend isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
“Do you realize how this makes me look? Forty-eight hours ago, you were living with another woman. Now, you’re in Vegas with someone new, and I’m that someone?” She buries her face in her hands, releasing a loud groan. “I look like a homewrecker. Hell, I suppose I am a homewrecker.”
I grasp her knee, desperate to calm her emotions. It would thrill most women to have the paparazzi capture an intimate moment with me. Not my Greer—a fact that both entices and infuriates me. Hey, my ego is coming into play and it’s getting a bit of an ass-kicking at the moment. A woman not wanting to date me is not something I normally encounter, particularly when that woman is the only woman I want. “It’s not that bad. We can get pistachio ice cream. Does that help ease the pain of being my girlfriend?”
She snorts, shaking her head. She’s trying to appear aggravated, but I see the grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Ice cream doesn’t come close to cutting it. Does the whole what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas apply to your life?”
“I highly doubt it.” At least she’s smiling. I know this woman, she likes to appear tough as nails, but she’s a marshmallow. She also has a soft spot for me, or, so I thought before she melted down about our relationship status.
Greer drums her nails along the door handle and I see the gears turning in her mind, wondering what my ulterior motive is in this situation.
The truth? The media asked about Greer; I opened my mouth, and without thinking, I announced she was my girlfriend. It was an accident, of sorts. It just came out.
Not that I don’t want to date her. Hell, I want far more than that with Greer Hammond. But I hoped to wine and dine her, romance her slowly and steal her heart when she wasn’t looking.
Turns out I have far more finesse on the track than I do with love. Don’t get me wrong, I have no issues dating women, but I don’t love them. I wasn’t even certain I still loved Greer until she walked through the hotel entrance. When she called my name and our gazes locked, I knew I was a goner.
Who am I kidding? I never got back from loving her, and by the time this weekend is over, she’ll be equally crazy about me.
I suspect she already is if those luscious kisses are anything to go on. Damn that woman and her talented mouth. Shifting in my seat, I adjust myself, realizing I’ve had a hard-on since Greer walked back into my life.
Time to remedy that situation.
I grab the bottle of whiskey, pouring a finger into my glass. Best bet with Greer? Make her laugh. “I always told you that one day I’d date you.”
That did it. Greer’s face splits into a grin as she delivers a light smack to my arm. “You could have asked me first. Brought me flowers.”
“I can stop for flowers. Hey, Mike,” I call to the driver through the window, earning another smack from Greer, “can we stop by a florist?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Greer laughs.
“You want flowers, you’ll get flowers. I’ll buy the whole damn shop.” I run my fingers along her jaw, trailing them down her neck to dance between her cleavage. This woman has skin like silk, and I can’t wait to taste every inch of her. Leaning in, I capture that beautiful mouth, tracing my tongue along the seam in her lips until she grants me entrance.
But Greer has never been one to go down easily. Staying my hands, she fixes me with her dark stare. “That isn’t how it works, Ryder.”
“How would you know?” I ask between kisses, her mouth hot against mine. “You’ve only dated me for five minutes.”
As luck would have it, the florist is around the block. Literally. I haven’t even had time to sink into our kiss when Mike announces our arrival. Damn punctuality and green lights.
Greer shakes her head in amusement when the limo slows to a stop. “You’re not really going in, are you?”
“What’s the point of stopping, otherwise?” Stealing another kiss, I jump out of the limo, determined to buy the biggest bouquet in the place and get this woman the hell back to my suite.
I have a bevy of romantic plans for the two of us, but at the moment, pent-up sexual energy wins.
Five minutes later, I stroll back to the limo, carrying a tremendous bouquet of lilies and irises. The florist mentioned roses as an option, but I get the distinct impression Greer isn’t one for typical sentiments.
Judging by the smile crossing her face when I hand over the flowers, I guessed correctly.
“Ryder, they’re beautiful. This is the biggest bouquet I’ve ever seen in my life.” She struggles to hold it against her petite form, and I chuckle, realizing it only took me twenty years to buy her flowers. Better late than never, I suppose.
“Told you dating me wasn’t all bad.”
I expect a flashy grin as she settles onto my lap to thank me properly. Instead, a frown mars her brow. Uh oh, the gears are turning again.
“What’s on your mind, Gigi?”
“Is this some ploy to get me into bed? Checkbox on your to-do list? Sleep with Greer—check. Move on to the next woman?” The frown deepens as she sets the flowers aside. “I’m sure it works with every woman you meet, but—”
Okay, enough of that noise. Seizing her mouth, I silence any further arguments. I’m not dismissing her fears. They’re legitimate. But what she can’t seem to wrap her head around is that she’s not just any woman.
She’s the one I’ve waited for my entire life.
I’m not entirely certain how to prove that fact to her, although I have reached a decision about this evening.
Even if my dick goes on strike.
I’m not sleeping with Greer. Not tonight. She thinks she’s another conquest in a long line of women, and although I know I can lure her into the mood, I’d rather she was secure in her place in my life.
Of all the women I’ve known, she deserves that level of adoration.
Pulling back, she runs her tongue along that pouty lower lip, gazing at me through lowered lashes. “That’s hardly an answer, Ryder.”
My fingers drift along her cheek, drinking in the beauty that I’ve admired for years. It’s uncanny, but she’s more beautiful with every year that passes. She’s also more jaded and emotionally distant.
I’ve got my work cut out for me.
“How about I make a call and get us some tickets for a show? It is Vegas, after all. Or I can rent a boat on Lake Mead and get us away from the Strip. Better yet, I can set up desert camping, and we can really take in nature.”
Her eyes widen with each idea, a small smile crossing her lips. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
Cupping her face with both hands, I force her to hold my gaze, praying she sees the truth in their depths. “Do I want you? Absolutely. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember. But you only get one first time with the woman you’ve always dreamt about, so I’m not screwing it up.”
“You’re not trying to sleep with me?”
“Haven’t you figured it out? I’m trying to make you fall madly in love with me.” There it is, right out in the open.
Sitting up, she presses a hard kiss to my mouth, but she can’t hold back the smile. This time, I know her happiness is genuine. “Keep saying things like that and it won’t be difficult.”
My heart jumps at her words, but I force levity. “See? I told you dating me wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
When the limo pulls up to the entrance of the hotel, I beat Mike to the punch, helping Greer from the car and pressing a kiss to her palm. Then I send Mike back to the restaurant to fetch the rest of the crew.
Me? I’ve got my own plans—ensuring Greer does fall in love with me.
Greer’s gaze flits around, taking in the luxurious surroundings. “This is quite a step up from the original location. Greg told me you footed the bill.”
“He’s been a loyal friend for years. He deserves it and you only get married… well, I’m not going there.” We exchange a grin as we stroll through the lobby, Greer barely able to hang onto her flowers.
“Mr. Gray,” the concierge calls out, waving in my direction. “I have several messages for you. I apologize, but she insisted I hand-deliver them. She was remarkably insistent.” His lips purse in a frown and I know immediately who’s been calling.
Rubbing my hand over my brow, I flip through the pile—and I mean pile—of messages from Mandi, ranging from apologetic to apoplectic. Apparently, news of my exploits in Vegas has made its way to her door. “Insistent is an understatement.”
“She also wanted me to mention that she’s at home in Charlotte and isn’t leaving until she gets some answers.” He shrugs, a rueful expression coloring his features. “Should I hold all calls from her, sir?”
What I want is to superglue her mouth shut, but since that isn’t a viable option, I know I’ll have to speak with her. Fucking wonderful. “Mandi and I need to talk, even if it’s the last thing I want to do right now.”
My statement, although true, should have remained in my head for two reasons. One is that discretion is of utmost importance in the world of celebrity and I don’t know the concierge from Adam. The second and more important reason? Greer heard every word of our brief exchange, and judging by the dismay on her face, she’s none too pleased.
Talk about damage control. Releasing a slow exhale, I offer Greer a shrug and hope for the best. “I’m sorry.” What else can I say at this point? Despite my every attempt to not make it look like a booty call, this latest turn of events is not helping matters. “I’m not even sure how she knew where I was.”
“The world knows every move you make, Ryder Gray.” Her gaze shifts to the ground as she chews her lower lip. “She’s still living with you? This keeps getting better and better. What’s next? She’ll show up for the wedding?”
“She’s still at the house, but only because she hasn’t found a place, or so that’s her claim. I’m dealing with it.”
Wrong answer, Ryder.
Houston, we have a major incident—a head-on collision, and the brake lines are cut. Greer shakes her head, her gaze flitting from the enormous bouquet in her arms to my face. “Take your flowers, Ryder.”
“They’re your flowers.”
The head shaking is more insistent now, her lips pursed. “I don’t want any part of this situation.” She holds out the bouquet, but I make no move to take them. After standing at an impasse for several seconds, she darts across the floor, gifting them to a woman in a wheelchair.
Then, without a second glance, she turns on her heel and heads for the elevator.
I have two choices: let her walk away or chase her down. I let her walk away once. There’s no way in hell I’m letting that happen a second time.
My long legs have no issue overtaking her, and I grip her arm, forcing her to slow. “Easy, Gigi. Can we talk about this without you running away?”
“Running away is the safest option at this point.” She motions between the two of us, and it’s then I catch the glassiness in her gaze. “What are we doing? We need to stop, or we’ll wind up doing something we regret. I’ve known you your entire life. I don’t want to taint that memory.”
“I will never regret spending time with you. But I’m ready to leave those memories in the past and start making new ones together.”
“You’re living with another woman,” Greer argues, punching the elevator button.
“Only technically. Hell, I put her on a plane two days ago. I don’t know why she’s back in Charlotte, but I swear, Mandi and I are done.”
“That appears to be a one-sided sentiment. Come on,” she mutters, her eyes focused on the floor numbers above the bank of elevators. “Go and speak with her, Ryder. It’s obvious she isn’t taking silence for an answer.”
“What about us?”
Greer pivots, her eyes large and luminous. “There is no us. There never has been. Any time we came even remotely close, your girlfriend suddenly appears, shooting the notion all to hell, and making me feel like a hussy in the process.” She runs her hand over her brow, the tension clear in her face. “I knew this was a terrible idea. I shouldn’t have come.”
No way will I let her throw up more emotional walls. She has miles of them already that I have to break through. When the elevator doors open, I mouth a silent prayer that it’s empty, before crowding Gigi against the back wall, caging her in with my forearms. “Do you know why I wasn’t going to come?”
“Greg said you were too busy.”
“Not even close. Yes, I’m busy, but never too busy for my friends, and trust me, I don’t have that many of them. Not real ones, anyway.” Inching closer, I nuzzle my nose along her jawline, basking in her magical scent. “I waited four months for you to call, using every excuse I could think of as to why you didn’t—it was too hard to reach me overseas, you were embarrassed to call, time zones—every excuse. Finally, I worked up the courage to ask Greg. I knew I’d have to tell him everything, but I didn’t care. A chance with you was more important. That’s when he told me about you and the doctor. It was serious. He figured you would get married. I’d heard enough at that point and from then on, I didn’t ask about you.”
Greer fingers the St. Christopher medallion around my neck, but she won’t meet my gaze. “I wanted you to call me. I started dating Richard when I realized you wouldn’t.”
“Did he make you happy?” I’m not sure why I need this information, but I finally have the courage to inquire about the details.
“It was fun for a while, but med school usurped most of his time. I worked constantly to foot the bills, convincing myself it would all be worth it in the end.”
“Did you love him?”
She hesitates, chewing her lip—my favorite of her nervous gestures. “I’m not sure I know what love is, Ryder.”
Her words settle over me, and I see the pain reflected in her eyes. She means what she says. “You’ve never been in love?”
“I told you years ago I’m not built for relationships.”
“And I told you that was bullshit.”
“Have you been in love?”
The elevator doors open before I can answer, but I’m glad for the interruption. Although the answer has always been the same, I’m not quite ready to speak those words aloud to Greer. Mainly because I doubt she’ll believe them, all things considered.
“My suite is this way,” she states, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “I hope your chat with Mandi goes well and you two—”
“Stay broken up? That’s the only option.” I refuse to let any additional fears set up camp in Greer’s mind.
But it’s obvious by her stilted stance that she is nothing if not unsure—what to say, how to act, what to feel. “Have fun at the bachelor party. Take good care of my brother. I really appreciate you doing all this for Greg. It means the world to him. You mean the world to him.”
Grasping her about the waist, I pull her close, desperate to know where her heart lies and if there’s still room in it for me. “What about you, Greer? What do I mean to you?”
I expect a sarcastic retort in the classic Greer Hammond style, but she surprises me by standing on her tiptoes and delivering a soft kiss to my mouth. “You’re the closest thing to love I’ve ever known, even if we’re destined for nothing to ever come of it.” Taking a step back, she shakes her head, a smirk playing about her mouth. “I’m far safer offering up my body and leaving my heart under wraps. What happens in Vegas, right?”
She’s halfway to her suite when I find the courage to speak my next line. “I want more than your body, Gigi. I’m aiming for your heart. This time, I’m not stopping until it’s mine.” My phone rings and even though I silence it, her expression shutters.
“You’d better get that. I’ll talk to you later, Ryder.”
“You don’t have to believe me. I’ll prove it to you.” Desperate to keep the conversation going, I aim for levity. “By the way, thanks for giving away the diamond bracelet I hid in the bouquet. I hope that woman enjoys it.”
Yes, I’m messing with her, but the energy is too heavy. We need to lighten the mood. Have some fun. Hell, haven’t we earned it?
Greer’s jaw slackens at my words. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
I struggle to maintain a stern expression, but the look of horror stamping across her features is too much. “I’m joking.”
“Thank God.”
As she buzzes herself into the room, I can’t resist one last zinger. “It was a necklace.”
This time, instead of a horrified expression, she flips me the bird with a smile before closing the door to her suite.
At least we’re moving in the right direction.
I know Greer is terrified—of my lifestyle, my storied sexual history, my celebrity status—but what she doesn’t understand is I’m still Ryder, and she’s one of the few people who can see that. One of the only people who wants to see me as I really am.
Besides, her admission opens the door for a future together. Now, I only have to convince her to fall in love with me, all while keeping my hands to myself.
Holy shit, I have my work cut out for me.
It’s been an hour. That’s about the only way to sum up the last sixty minutes. I spent the first twenty going round and round with Mandi, who heard from a friend of a friend of a friend—or something to that effect—that I was in Vegas with another woman.
After I verified I was indeed in Vegas with Greer, Mandi spent the next twenty minutes ranting and raving. Thankfully for my eardrums, I kept the phone at a safe distance.
I’ll give it to the media. When they latch onto a juicy tidbit, they’re faster than any F1 race car. The news of my Vegas weekend is already bicoastal, although they haven’t been able to identify the mystery brunette.
Only a matter of time.
The final twenty minutes were a mad dash of showering and throwing on fresh duds before heading to Greer’s room and sweeping her off her feet. I wasn’t able to snag front-row seats for a show, but I got us a table at the hottest French restaurant on the Strip.
Less than five minutes, and she’ll be back in my arms. Even that seems too long.
I swing open the door of my suite, stopping dead in my tracks at the harem of half-dressed women trailing behind Greg and the groomsmen.
What in the hell?
Did I pay for these strippers? Absolutely, along with the suites and booze and various amenities. However, I never intended for them to land on my doorstep.
Literally.
“What’s up, man?” I ask, forcing a smile.
“Bachelor party,” is Greg’s only answer as they waltz past me into the suite, a bevy of beauties and liquor bottles in tow.
“Why did you bring them here?” I question, my face scrunched in disgust. “I have plans tonight.”
“I know you have plans—with me. It’s my bachelor party, and it’s set to go down in history as the greatest one known to man, thanks to you. These women are gorgeous.” Greg shoots me a smirk, downing a shot as a slight blonde grinds against him.
“I’m glad. Enjoy them. But, can you move the festivities to your suite?”
His grin widens as he wags a finger under my nose. “These must be important plans. Wouldn’t happen to be with my sister?”
Christ, don’t let Greg start with me now, especially since he’s been in his cups. “If I say it’s none of your business, will you let it lie?”
“So, it is my sister. Dude, you can’t abandon me at my bachelor party. That’s breaking bro code or something.”
Greg has a point, and I do feel bad jumping ship, but here’s the thing. I hate strip clubs and strippers. Nothing personal, but they don’t do it for me. Still, under normal circumstances, I would suck it up and play along since it is Greg’s night.
But these aren’t normal circumstances. The woman I’ve been in love with for decades is literally down the hall from me, and I’ll be damned if some body shots get in the way of that. “I get that, but all your buddies are here. Look at them, having a great time. Wrecking my suite.”
Greg rolls his eyes, but he’s biting back a grin. Just like his sister—a total marshmallow. That’s one of the many things I love about the Hammond clan, with the exception of their father. I’d like to punch him in the mouth for abandoning his family. “Man, you’ve got it bad. I thought it was just some Vegas fling, but you still have a thing for my sister.”
“That’s an understatement,” I mutter, wincing as a groomsman knocks a lamp off the side table. “Look, finish up and then head for the club. I rented out the entire VIP area for you guys.”
“You’ll meet us there later, right?”
“Sure,” I lie, although I know Greg can see through my falsehood. No matter, though. Within an hour, he will have forgotten I ever existed. Hey, endless lap dances can do that to a man.
Closing the door to my suite and offering a silent prayer that the men don’t cause too much damage, I phone Mike to ensure he’s ready with the limo. The last thing I need is those guys driving anywhere.
But a smile replaces any frustration when Greer’s door comes into view.
Showtime.
My smile fades when Michelle swings open the door to Greer’s suite, a wide smile coloring her features. “Hello, handsome.”
“Hi. Greer here?”
“She’s in the bathroom getting ready. We convinced her to come out with us tonight.” She drags one manicured nail down the front of my shirt. “I’d love to convince you to tag along, too.”
I force a laugh as I squeeze past her. I have one destination and it sure as hell isn’t a strip club. The bathroom door is ajar, and I catch sight of Greer in the mirror.
Keeping my hands to myself is so not happening.
Her long dark hair is swept up, and her dress is cut low in the back, dipping down to highlight those fantastic hips. I shift, adjusting myself and wondering how long we have to stay clothed.
“Holy hell, but you’re gorgeous.”
Greer smiles at me in the mirror. “I can say the same for you. How did your conversation go?”
“Mandi is furious, but I couldn’t care less. My buddy is going to babysit my house and ensure she’s out by Sunday.” With a shrug, I shoot off my goofy grin. “See? All settled.”
“How’s the bachelor party?”
“Strippers have taken over my suite.”
“And you’re here because?”
“I want to be with you.” I hold her gaze in the mirror as I close the distance between us, dropping to my knees and gliding my tongue along the line of her hips, dancing in the crack of her ass just visible above the material.
A surprised gasp flies from her mouth, so I wrap my hands around her hips, teasing her further. Fuck, but she tastes good, and I don’t want to stop until I’ve mapped every inch of her with my mouth.
I trace a path up along her spine, nipping the nape of her neck and earning a soft squeal. “You need to behave.”
“I think you’d far rather I don’t behave. You’ll enjoy it more.” Wrapping my arms around her waist, I nuzzle her neck, basking in the sexy and exotic scent I’ll always associate with Greer. “I made reservations for us at a French restaurant. They have a top-of-the-line late-night menu.”
She turns in my arms, a confused expression on her face. “That’s an odd location for a bachelor party.”
“I left the bachelor party. I’m not interested in strippers.”
“Sure,” she cajoles, sending me a knowing wink.
“I’m not, although I wouldn’t turn down a private dance from you.” My hands slide along the hem of her dress, gliding along her inner thighs.
“Greer, are you almost ready?” a voice sounds from the other side of the door, and I drop my head to her shoulder with a resigned grunt.
“Do we really have to endure strippers for the rest of the night?”
“I’m afraid so, along with an assortment of lap dances and body shots,” she teases, running her hands along my biceps. “I know, it’s asking a lot of you, but you’re going to have to admire a bevy of tits and ass tonight.”
“I just want to admire you. Over and over again.” Resting my forehead against hers, I smile when her slight fingers play along my beard. “How about I rent a private jet and fly us somewhere? Let’s ditch Vegas.”
“Great idea. You tell Greg that his sister and best friend won’t be at his wedding.”
“We’ll be back in time for the ceremony.”
Greer laughs, that gorgeous smile crossing her face. “While that sounds spectacular, I’m afraid we’ll have to suck it up tonight. It’s a tragedy, I know.”
“The tragedy is not spending tonight with you. Naked.”
I mean for the words to entice her, but a shadow passes over her features. “In a hurry to fuck me, Ryder?”
I cringe at her crude statement. Any other woman uttering those words would be an invitation for me to bend her over the vanity and sink balls deep.
But this is Greer Hammond, and I’ll be damned if our first time is a quick screw in the bathroom while her friends wait outside.
Even if my dick is threatening to find a new employer.
Sliding my hands along her jaw, I frame her face, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Fucking implies hurried. I plan on taking my time exploring every inch of you. It will take hours. Days, even.”
Her pupils dilate, her lower lip catching between her teeth. “What happens when you’ve finished your exploration? On to the next conquest?”
There it is—the fear brimming just beneath the surface of her calm facade. The belief that she’s just another notch on my bedpost.
“Are you kidding? This journey will last a lifetime.” I capture her mouth then, sliding my tongue along hers. Taking it slow. Easy. Coaxing her out to play.
With a sigh, she twines her hands around my neck, her body flush against me, her mouth getting in on the action.
This woman. She’s my everything, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
“Holy shit. You guys are trending!”
We break apart, a curious expression on her face as she opens the bathroom door. Jillian shoves a phone under Greer’s nose, her eyes wild. “The internet claims you two are dating. Is that true? What did I miss between the restaurant and here?”
Greer opens her mouth to respond, but I beat her to the punch. “A whole lot, Jillian. I’m off to catch up with the boys. You ladies have fun tonight, and be sure to take extra special care of my lady.” I press a last kiss to Greer’s shocked mouth, ensuring there is ample tongue action and knowing damn well she’ll be subjected to a bevy of questions the moment I leave.
Dick move? Not really. Just a man staking his claim.
After ten minutes in the VIP area, I remember why I loathe strip clubs. The booming bass reverberates through my brain as a woman wearing only pasties and a thong grinds against me.
Is she hot? Sure, in a silicone-filled way.
Is she Greer? Not even close.
Shoving a fifty in her g-string, I huff out a sigh of relief when she moves on to her next victim. Judging by the shit-eating grin on his face, he’s more than happy to oblige.
“Step outside with me for a second,” Greg says, and I follow him to the back patio. It’s cooler than earlier in the day, not that anyone considers 100 degrees cool. Unless you’re a sidewinder.
“Are you having fun?”
“Ryder, it’s a great party. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. I’m happy to be here.”
Greg scrubs his face, releasing a huffed sigh. Uh-oh. I know where this conversation is headed. “Jillian texted me earlier. Apparently, you and my sister are dating? Care to fill me in?”
“The media are relentless,” I mumble, unsure how to broach the topic without having to spill all the facts. One of those facts being that Mandi is still in residence at my house. “They snapped some photos of us together.”
“So, it’s bullshit.”
“I don’t want it to be.” With a sigh, I face my friend. “You know how I had a thing for Greer when I was a kid? I still do. I always have. We fooled around once, several years back, but lines got crossed and—”
“New Year’s, right? Greer told me.”
“What did she say?”
“That you two hung out, and you wanted to take her to Paris, but then you never called. I was pretty pissed at the time, but she told me to leave it alone. So I did.”
“I never got her number.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
“I was a twenty-two-year-old chicken shit. I figured you’d hate the idea of me and Greer dating, not that it would have stopped me. I also thought Greer would call me when she disappeared from the party, and I didn’t want to look desperate. But, I finally caved and called you. That’s when you told me about the doctor she was dating and how serious it was. I knew then I had lost my chance.”
“Except you didn’t, because here you are.” He folds his arms across his barrel chest, his expression solemn. “What are your intentions with her? She’s been on the receiving end of a long line of assholes, Ryder. She doesn’t need another man fucking with her head, or her bank account.”
“Come again? Her bank account?”
“That piece of shit, Richard, left her with a mountain of debt. He went through med school, and she footed all the bills, including several loans she took out, in her name, to help him. Then he left her for a younger woman, right after he finished his residency.”
“Fucking asshole. You should have told me about her financial situation. I can help her.”
Greg chokes back a laugh. “Are we talking about the same woman? Greer would never allow that. She doesn’t accept charity, as she terms it.”
“It’s not charity. I’ve adored her for decades. She needs help. I want to help her. Show her that not all men will cut and run.”
Greg nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, Dad leaving really messed with her ideas about love. She was a diehard romantic as a kid.”
“I remember. That summer I spent with you guys, she told me she wanted to get married on a beach at sunset, the light casting off the ocean.”
“What are you, planning to marry her now?”
I smirk in my friend’s direction, but the idea isn’t unwelcome. I always said I would marry Greer in a heartbeat. “Don’t you want me as your brother-in-law?” I jest, giving him a jab in the arm.
“Just don’t upstage my wedding, okay? Wait a week.” Greg downs the rest of his drink and I can’t help but wonder how many more he plans to imbibe before midnight. I love the man, but he drinks like a fish. “You really want to help her?”
“Yes. I also really want to be with her, which should show you how much I love you that I’m here and not with Greer.”
“Fair enough. Too bad you can’t set up some sort of trade with my sister.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You want to help her. She doesn’t accept charity. Find something to bargain with, something that helps you both. Even if it’s bullshit, it would likely be the only way to get her on board.” Greg snorts, waving his empty glass. “Ignore me, I’m drunk.”
Drunk or not, the man is right, and the noises around me fade as Greg’s words sink in. I need a plan. Then it hits me.
For the first time since fame came calling, I’m thrilled to have the media hounding me. It’s a perfect segue.
I know exactly how I can keep Greer by my side and help her, all at the same time.
