“Griff?” Keeley sounds as confused as I feel. “Now?”
Exactly. The only reason I can think of for my brother’s sudden call is Dad.
I’ve already put up with as much shit from that man tonight as I plan to. And I can’t imagine why the fuck Griff would bother to call me about him. It’s not as if my brother will want to compare notes about what a son of a bitch Barclay Reed is. We both know that well. There’s no way in hell Griff simply wants to talk to me.
Something must be wrong.
Heart pounding, I fumble through my pockets until I find the phone.
I glance at the display. Sure enough, it’s Griff.
With a trembling finger, I press the button. I’m not sure what to say. There’s no etiquette for greeting the brother you haven’t spoken to since he splintered your business, called you a shitbag, and fucked your ex-girlfriend all in the same week.
“What?” I say cautiously.
“God, you’re still a selfish prick, sending Dad to my place while I’m working my ass off to finish my pitch. These are the two most critical days of my career! Harlow swore you’d changed. But nope. You’re still putting yourself first and not even bothering to tell the people around you to fuck off. You just behave like an absolute bastard until they do.”
“Hey! He came here first, behaving like the same ugly sphincter as always, bitching about Mom…and whatever the fuck else he rants about. After he laid into me about his shitty life and tried to make me feel as welcome on this planet as a turd, he decided he’d rather be with you. No idea why. Maybe he feels more comfortable with you since you two are so fucking much alike. But I didn’t send him your way.”
“Even if I believed you—or gave a shit—you can’t deny you’re trying to steal the Stowe business out from under me. I know you wheedled a chance to pitch to them.”
“I don’t deny it at all. George and Vivienne are going to list that house, like any other owner. I’m just giving them a presentation from the number one agent on the island so they can see what I plan to do for them. They deserve to hear more than one thought on how to sell their mother’s estate. That doesn’t make me a bad guy.”
Griff scoffs. “You tell yourself that lie if it helps you sleep at night. But I’m going to get this listing. I’m planning to make a major splash and it will blow everyone away, especially you. I’m going to crush you into the ground, big brother. Then I’ll be number one on the island, and you can go eat shit once and for all.”
Then three impersonal beeps tell me he hung up. Our first conversation in three years, and it’s as brief and ugly as the one that wedged the chasm between us.
I stare at the phone, numb. I wanted something different out of that. I’d hoped…
Like Keeley says, you can’t always get what you want when you want it.
“What did he say?” She climbs from bed and makes her way to my side, arms open. “That didn’t sound good.”
I don’t think about the fact that some would see me as weaker for needing her embrace now when I know it will make me stronger. “That Dad is cramping his style. Whatever. Griff apparently has a plan for the Stowe estate. He says he’s going to win and I’m going down in flames.”
“You know it’s talk. He feels threatened.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I know. But…what if he’s right?”
“That he’s going to ‘win’? First, your careers aren’t really a race that ends unless one of you gets out of the business entirely. If he pulls ahead for a year…there’s always next year. You two push one another to make the other work harder. That’s not necessarily bad.”
No. In fact, that’s probably true. But… “What I mean is, what if he’s right about strategy? He’s going in big, like it’s the real estate equivalent of a Super Bowl halftime show. I don’t know if he’s got dancers and marching bands or what. But he sounds so…smug. Like he knows something I don’t.” I drop the phone on the mattress and begin to pace. “What if my simple strategy looks like I’ve been slacking in Loserville to the Stowes? Maybe I did this all wrong.”
“We talked about your pitch.” Her touch is so gentle and earnest.
“We did,” I concede as I plop my ass back on the bed.
I don’t want Keeley to think I don’t value her contribution or see her point of view. She opened up my eyes, gave me a whole new way to view this listing. Hell, my business and my life. But I can’t not wonder if the touchy-feely approach won’t work with these two syrup heirs who just want to unload a property. Maybe they don’t want to be understood; maybe they just want top dollar.
“Now you’re not sure it’s the right approach?”
I shake my head. Griff’s words scorch through my brain. My dad’s aren’t far behind. What if I’ve fucked up because I’m always going to be first loser in this family?
“No.” I look at her. “I’m worried and I don’t know what to do.”
“Is he done with his pitch?”
I shake my head. “Still working.”
Keeley is quiet for a long minute. She meanders to the kitchen and fetches a water bottle from the fridge. Absently, she unscrews the top and sips.
I have an idea…and I hate myself for it.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
She shrugs. “He asked me to dinner tomorrow night.”
“I know.” At his place, where he could be alone with her and try to sweet-talk her into bed.
We’re both silent for a long time. I know we’re thinking the same thing.
I could ask her to finish the task I lured her in to start.
I cringe at the thought. My guts shrivel. It was easy to think about her spending time with Griff when I barely knew her. Now…everything is different.
But it’s also not. I’m still stuck in the same years-long feud with my own goddamn brother. My dad still thinks I’m a pansy-ass failure. I’m still struggling to feel good enough for both of them and searching for the life I want to have.
With a sigh, she settles beside me and takes my hand. “Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do it.”
I know she will, even though she doesn’t have a hateful, spiteful, or mean bone in her body. She would do something that goes against her own moral code because I need the outcome only she can provide. Yeah, she hasn’t said that she loves me, but why would anyone do that for someone they aren’t emotionally devoted to? My heart does a little dance at the thought…until I realize she’s looking at me intently, waiting for an answer now.
Do I keep her here where Griff can’t touch her or ask her to finish this one critical task for me?
I chew the inside of my lip. I don’t want Keeley to think I don’t value her. After tonight, she knows everything is different, right? She must. I’m an emotional dolt, so if I feel our connection, a smart girl like her will totally know. We’re a unit. We’re in love. We have a future.
As soon as I can put the past and this stupid rivalry behind me once and for all.
I close my eyes. Hesitate. Once I open my mouth, it’s final. I can’t take it back.
But I don’t see another choice.
“Can you have dinner with him?” I croak. “You don’t have to do anything but be a smiling, slightly flirty friend.”
She gives me a vague smile as she stands suddenly. “Sure. I’ll make sure you get what you want most, Maxon.”
Her words give me pause. I don’t like the way she’s phrased them. They’re careful. They could have more than one meaning.
“I want you, too.” I assure her. “I need you to know that.”
“I do.”
But something about her demeanor still feels off. “You okay?”
Keeley breezes past me, strolling out to the lanai wearing nothing but my shirt. She situates herself at the rail, letting the breeze ruffle the cotton swinging around her thighs, and tosses me a gaze over her shoulder. “Of course. Maybe you’ll come over here and give me what I want most?”
For me to make love to her on the lanai.
Yeah, she loves me. She gets me. Everything is going to be great, if I can stop being paranoid.
I grab a condom from my nightstand drawer, then saunter up behind her. I cup her thigh, then lift my hand up to her bare pussy, urging her legs apart. As I kiss her neck, I shift my cock out of my boxers and roll down the condom. Keeley arches back to me, and I smile against her skin, breathing her in.
“You want to fuck out here but you don’t want anyone to know?”
“Yes.” The word is a whisper, uttered on a catch of her breath.
“You’re a screamer, sunshine. And I’m not going to go easy on you. You’ll have to figure out how to keep this our secret…”
Because I don’t give a crap what my neighbors think, I don’t pause even a second so she can decide how she’s going to manage that before I slam deep inside her. I’m so damn grateful and blessed that we’ll have the chance do this every night for the rest of our lives. We just have to get past the next forty-eight hours.
Despite that thought, something is bugging me. And when Keeley turns to me over her shoulder, lips pursed in silent pleading for mine, it’s crazy but I find myself wondering if I’m kissing her for the last time.
My day drags on. Keeley texted me this morning to tell me that she got in touch with Griff, who invited her over at seven. No emojis. No hearts and kisses or LOLs. I frown. It’s possible she’s nervous. It’s also possible she’s pissed. But when I ask again if she’s all right, she sends back a vague Fine. I’m headed into an afternoon study group.
“You okay?” Britta comes up behind me with a gentle hand on my shoulder.
I just guiltily shove the phone in my pocket. I hate that she’s going to be angry with me. I hate that she’s probably going to quit. I search for something to say, some persuasion I can give her to make her understand that my decision to use Keeley to eliminate the competition is in no way a reflection of how I feel about her. Britta really is like a sister to me.
Damn it.
“I’m all right. Just a lot on my mind. Friday is coming up fast.”
“Yeah.” She blows out a breath. “My nervous stomach feels that. So does my mouse hand.”
As she shakes the appendage, I smile. “The graphics you’ve created are great so far. Thanks for making the phone calls to those nonprofit organizations you heard about.”
She nods. “I’m glad I remembered reading that article last night about how some of them keep their portfolios solid by buying real estate. I’m excited that United Way, Catholic Charities USA, and Goodwill all said they’d be willing to look more closely at the property next week.”
“I think it’s a strategy that could both keep the Stowes happy and make sure the place benefits others in the future.” At least I hope I’m not wrong. I don’t mention my doubts now.
It’s really too late to change direction. I have to hope Keeley comes through.
“Exactly. One of the organizations talked about using it for corporate retreats and donor gatherings, which isn’t my favorite but a necessary evil, I guess. Another charity talked about it as a recovery center for people dealing with depression and suicidal tendencies—that kind of stuff. I’ve only seen pictures, but I think this estate would be perfect.”
I agree.
“Anyway, great job.”
She looks around the office and sees Rob ducking into the bathroom. “Did you decide what you’re going to do about Keeley and…”
“Griff?” My gut tightens.
She nods as if she’d rather not say his name. “Any thoughts?”
I hate to lie to her. I really do. But Keeley isn’t going to have sex with Griff. She probably won’t even kiss him again. Right?
“Nothing is final,” I finally mutter. “I’m just…”
I let that trail off so she can draw her own conclusion. I don’t want to hurt her—and part of that is not freaking her out unnecessarily.
She gives me a stiff nod. “How are things going between you two?”
I blink at Britta. I might be steering into a gray area about my business plan but no reason not to come clean here. “I’m in love with her. I realized that for sure last night when my dad suddenly appeared on my doorstep and infuriated the hell out of me.” I fill her in about my parents’ divorce and what a fuckbag my dad is. “Keeley was there to make sure I didn’t commit murder. Or fall apart. She’s really great. You guys will get along, I’m sure.”
As soon as she’s done “distracting” Griff. Then we just won’t talk about that. It will all end well, so what’s the point of hurting Britta?
“You, in love? She and I got off to a bad start, which was my fault, but I want to shake her hand.” She smiles softly. “Can you two come to dinner tonight?”
I nearly stumble on my tongue.
“She can’t. She’s got plans,” I say vaguely.
I’m uncomfortable that I’m lying like a motherfucker. I’m even aware that in the last twelve hours my morals have been…iffy. But I’m going to get business managed, then I’m going to be the most devoted husband for the rest of my life.
If Keeley will still have me.
“Why don’t I take you and Jamie to dinner somewhere? Coconut’s?”
“Sure.” She smiles. “Fish tacos sound great. Makaio had to hop over to Oahu for a meeting until Thursday, so it will just be the three of us.”
“Fantastic.” I’m relieved actually. He’s a decent guy and all…but I feel weird seeing her with someone other than my brother. Stupid, I know. But they just seemed so meant to be. “Did you…um, accept his proposal?”
“Not yet,” she says with a shake of her head. “Jamie slammed his finger in a door last night. He’s okay, but we had to make a trip to the ER. His finger needs a splint for the next two weeks, but you can’t tell a toddler to leave something like that alone, so we had to wait to see the orthopedic surgeon on call and get his advice. We got home late. So Makaio and I didn’t get to talk about anything before he left and I collapsed into bed.”
Then this dinner is perfect timing. I can spend time with Jamie and make sure Britta doesn’t find out where Keeley is tonight…while I talk her out of marrying a guy she doesn’t love.
Rob emerges from the bathroom, checking his long, floppy bang in the mirror one last time before he flips off the light. He frowns. “You two all right?”
“Fine.” Britta checks her watch. “Actually, if you’re happy with our progress on the presentation, I’m going to scoot out a few minutes early to pick Jamie up. I told his pediatrician that I’d swing by so she could look at his finger, too. She’ll probably set his entire hand and forearm in a cast until it heals.”
“Seven o’clock okay?”
“Perfect.” She shuts off her computer and retrieves her purse.
“I’ll pick you up.”
Seconds later, she dashes out of the office. Rob watches her go. The second the door swings shut behind her, he turns to me with an expectant stare.
I know what he wants. Goddamn, he’s always been a pushy bastard. I more than slightly resent his interference.
“Keeley is having dinner with Griff tonight. I lied to Britta and I feel like a heel. Back off.”
Suddenly, he’s all smiles as he claps me on the back. “I knew you’d come to your senses. You’re not the kind of man to put pussy before profit.”
I snap. I don’t know why. He’s made similar statements in the past, and his point of view made sense to me back then.
Now it just pisses me off.
Without any conscious decision, I find myself picking Rob up by his shirt and shoving him against the wall. “Shut the fuck up. Keeley is not just a pussy. She’s a woman. She’s smart. She has a big heart. And she deserves respect. You know, maybe you’re not married because you treat women like interchangeable whores.”
“What the hell is up your ass? ’Cause let me remind you, you’re no better, chief. I don’t know what kind of special magic this woman’s cunt has, but it’s addled your brain. You’re being an asshole. Get your hands off me.”
I let go—but I don’t step back. “I’m opening my eyes. I’m seeing the value of women as people and I feel like a prick that I didn’t do it sooner. But I had my old man as a role model, so it took me extra time to pull my head out of my ass. What’s your excuse for being a miserable misogynist?”
“Fuck you.” He pushes me away. “I respect women. I’m great with clients. I’ve never treated Britta as anything other than my peer and my equal.”
I actually can’t fault him there. He’s golden to clients. He’s been pleasant, kind, deferential, even fatherly at times with Britta. He’s helped her assemble a swing set for Jamie, rescued her when her car got a flat in the rain, and helped look after her when she sprained her ankle. I know he’s not in love with her or anything. To him, women are either Madonnas or whores, no in between.
That used to be me. I see that now. I feel like an asshole all over again.
I’m thankful once more that Keeley came into my life.
“See if you can extend that to the other women around you. You threatened to quit yesterday if I didn’t all but whore out my…” Girlfriend? Love? I can’t say fiancée…yet. “Well, Keeley. But let’s get one thing clear: I will fire your ass if your attitude doesn’t improve.”
I stare Rob down. Regardless of the bluster, we’ve been friends. He knows when I mean business. Plus, he’s got a bit of short man’s disease. He talks bigger than he actually is or feels. Once he knows this chauvinist shit bugs me, he’ll back off. I can’t change his heart and mind, but I can sure as hell adjust how he behaves around the office.
“Okay.” He frowns as if he doesn’t understand why I’m making a big deal out of this, then straightens his tie. “You don’t have to get cranky.”
“I didn’t appreciate you threatening me yesterday. Keeley is going to try to get the job done, but she’s not spreading her legs for anyone. Don’t expect her to. And I can’t guarantee that she’ll succeed in throwing Griff off his A game. If you have a problem with that—”
“I don’t,” he rushes to tell me. “It was never a guarantee. I just wanted to make sure you were giving it effort.”
“I am. Leave it there.”
With a nod, I shut down my computer, grab my keys, and get the hell out of the office. As I head to my car, I text Keeley to tell her I’m taking Britta and Jamie to dinner. She tells me to enjoy and says she’s leaving my condo now.
Call me when you’ve left his place. And don’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable or unhappy.
Fine.
There’s that word again. I hope she’s okay…but I remember some bit on YouTube where a guy said that when a woman says she’s “fine,” she’s pretty much mad enough to cut your balls off. Before I can call her to check on her again, a client rings about an upcoming closing. I slide into my car and assure him that everything is going smoothly while I walk him through the process and paperwork. Thirty minutes later, I’m sure she’s already close to Griff’s. I guess I’ll have to wait to talk to her until later tonight, so I pick up my dry cleaning. By then it’s too late for me to swing home before going to Britta’s. It’s fine. A few extra minutes with Jamie will be nice.
When I arrive, my assistant has changed into a casual sundress. Jamie comes running to give me a big hug. I don’t see the little man as often as I should. Wow, he’s growing so fast. I’m painfully aware he needs a father figure—now and in the future. Since Griff is still ignoring his own son, I realize that someone in Jamie’s life can either be Makaio…or me.
Nothing against the banker Britta plans to marry, but Jamie doesn’t have the Reed surname. He needs to have some of the Reed swagger—though only the good parts.
I picture myself trying to semi-parent and wonder if I’m crazy. But at least it doesn’t scare the shit out of me. I’ve actually learned something since I met Keeley, enough to know I’d like it even more if she and I were raising our own son—or daughter—together.
Now I sound like a sap, but what the hell? For the first time in my life, I think I finally understand what it means to be happy and why Keeley would want that above all else.
I’m going for it, too.
“Hey, Jamie. How you been, big boy?”
He tugs me toward his toy trucks. With a few grunts and small words, I get the gist that he’s setting up his own racetrack. As we play together, he bangs his new blue cast on the nearby hearth. Obviously, he’s not digging the constraint. I ruffle his hair and take a few snapshots on my phone. He really is a cute kid.
My obstinate brother has cut away the best part of himself. If I wasn’t so attached to Keeley, I’d tell her to dive into his head and make him acknowledge his son by any means possible. But she’s mine, and Keeley being super close to Griff will only lead to sex. That isn’t what either Britta or I want. I hope Keeley doesn’t, either.
Still, in a weird way I wish things could be different.
After a quick plate of fish tacos, we head south down the coast to Lappert’s for some Hawaiian ice cream. Jamie’s evening is complete, and by the time I take him and his mother home, the tyke is half-asleep.
After an abbreviated bath and a bedtime story, Britta tucks him in. All the while, I’m checking my phone. It’s getting close to nine o’clock. I guess I shouldn’t be too worried yet.
Still, I am.
I’m just about to shout down the hall that I’ll leave them to their evening. Of course, I’ll just go home and pace. That sounds terrible. But hanging around here, where there’s no hint or trace of Keeley, is unsettling me. I can’t say why exactly. I keep remembering my last face-to-face with her, and the notion that I’ve really fucked up again keeps plaguing me.
“Sorry that took awhile,” Britta says as she emerges from the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. “He’s having a hard time settling in with his cast. Since he couldn’t play in the tub as usual, he wanted an extra bedtime story.”
I nod. “Poor guy.”
“Coffee?”
“Nah. I should head out.”
“Can you spare me ten minutes?”
Britta and I talked pretty in-depth earlier. She’s not any sort of shallow party girl, but it’s also unlike her to drag me into multiple serious conversations in one month, much less in one day.
“Sure.”
She gestures me to the sofa, then sits in the chair beside me. “Why did you lie to me?”
I freeze. “What do you mean?”
Britta has always been soft and sweet and a little quiet. Very feminine. But right now, she’s giving me a mean-bitch glare that’s making me shudder. “Don’t act like you have no idea what I’m talking about. I believed you this afternoon when you hinted that you’d given up your idea to flash Keeley in Griff’s face. I even bought that she had a prior commitment. But all night you’ve been checking your phone every two minutes.”
It’s not like I can tell her that I’m expecting a call from a client. She’d ask which one…and know I’m lying. Frankly, I’m tired of deceiving Britta anyway. I probably need to tell her the truth and let the chips fall. Keeley would want me to.
“All right. I admit it.” I blow out a breath. “The thing is, Griff called me last night.”
At that, Britta sits up straight, looking beyond shocked. I don’t blame her. “And?”
“He just wanted to yell at me about Dad. He said some ugly things and I reacted badly. I’m really beginning to regret asking Keeley to go tonight. I have this gnawing worry…”
“You should. You know your brother.”
I do. A devoted man-whore—except when he’d made Britta the center of his world.
“Fuck. I haven’t heard from her.” I drag my phone into my palm again. Still nothing.
Britta stands, wraps her arms around herself. “I can’t believe you went through with this. And that you lied to me.”
I say the first thing that pops into my head. “Don’t quit.”
She whirls on me, betrayal in the tears pooling in her eyes. “Why shouldn’t I?”
Valid question. I have very few persuasive answers. “I’m sorry and I’ll make it right.”
“You can’t.” She sighs. “Besides, I have to stop caring what Griff does. He and I are over.”
Suddenly, I realize I played a huge role in that. My falling out with my brother was largely his fault because the stubborn fucker wouldn’t even hear what I had to say about my secret royal client. But his split from Britta was at least partially my doing. I kept her in the dark and didn’t give her even enough information to convince Griff that she wasn’t involved. I also didn’t do anything to force him to acknowledge his son. I told myself it wasn’t my responsibility, that my brother didn’t deserve to know Jamie if he was going to behave like an asshole. Harlow even agreed. But now I’m rethinking everything.
I don’t want to make promises to Britta that I can’t keep, but I also think it’s time I try to right some of my wrongs.
“Do you want Griff to be involved in his son’s life?”
She ponders that for a long moment. “Yes…and no. Jamie needs a father. For a long time, I’ve wished Jamie could have his father. But I worry that, deep down, he’s too much like his own. You, too.”
“I’m trying to change.”
“I think you actually mean that.” She sends me a sad smile. “But I also don’t think you’re there. What you did today proves that.”
I’m not going to lie. That’s a knife in the heart. But I’ve earned it. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugs. “Sometimes, sorry isn’t enough.”
Britta is right. Unfortunately, I don’t know what will be enough to right the stupid-ass wrong I’ve done.
I need to hear from Keeley.
“Are you going to quit?”
She looks past me, out the window. “I don’t know. I have to give it serious consideration.”
If she marries Makaio, she’ll have the luxury of leaving her job. He can more than support them all.
We fall silent for a long minute. I can’t help it. I check my phone again. Twenty minutes after nine. Nothing.
On the one hand, imagining that Keeley can exchange small talk and have dinner, then unravel all Griff’s focus about the deal of a lifetime in under three hours is crazy. On the other hand, I’ve seen my brother get a woman from hello to horizontal in under ten minutes.
“Are you so jumpy because you’re worried Keeley will fail?” Britta asks.
My business brain tells me that should be my main concern. If she doesn’t find a way to make sure that Griff’s presentation goes poorly on Thursday, I’m probably screwed. But that’s not what’s on my mind at all. “I’m worried because she wasn’t acting like herself after we agreed she would have dinner with Griff.”
“Was she mad?”
I shake my head. “She just seemed off. She said she was ‘fine.’”
Britta winces. “You know that’s bad, right?”
“Yeah, but I think I heard that in a comedy routine, so I wondered…”
“It’s terrible. Fine really means ‘you’ve pissed me off and I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of explaining—because you should know—or let you defend yourself because I’m both too angry and I don’t want to hear your lousy excuses.’”
That’s been my fear. “Bitchin’. So what do I do now?”
Because there’s no way Keeley can not talk to me. That can’t happen.
Britta shrugs. “I don’t know. All I can say for sure is that you telling her to even go flirt with another man really told her that you value your career and your ego more than you value her.”
Those words shoot a cannonball of dread into the pit of my stomach. She says what’s been dancing around the edge of my consciousness, that thing I suspected but didn’t want to acknowledge. It was an inconvenient truth.
I’m worried I’m going to pay the ultimate price for ignoring it in favor of my own version.
“I swear, that’s not how I feel,” I argue. “Nowhere near, actually.”
“Uh-huh,” she drawls cynically. “I’m telling you, your words might be saying that, but your actions are giving her an entirely different message.”
I plop my head into my hands. “Fuck.”
“If she’s still speaking to you and you actually do love her, I suggest you find some way to let her know that, from now on, she’s first and always will be. That you value the relationship you two have more than business or money or this insane need you have to be better than your brother. By the way, it’s the same problem he has.”
She’s right, one hundred percent. From grade school on, Dad made us compete against each other. For too long, we didn’t stop to question why or whether we should. When we began the business together, I thought we were solid and determined to throw off the old man’s yoke. But in a blink, childhood programming overwrote our goodwill. Maybe…Griff acted before he thought. Maybe I wasn’t much better. Not to excuse what either of us did. But isn’t the first step to solving a problem admitting it?
The real question is, how do I fix it from here?
“Do you want Griff back?” I ask Britta.
“What?” She says the word as if I’m speaking a foreign language she doesn’t understand.
I know she heard me perfectly well.
“If we’re both going to get the truth out and be totally honest, then let’s cut the shit entirely. Do you want him back?”
Britta purses her lips together and glances down at her bare ring finger. “I think Makaio has already picked out a ring. It’s really just…too late.”
And as she utters the words, she looks as if she’s going to cry.
She wants Griff back; she’s too afraid to admit it.
I reach across the space between us and take her hand. “Help me out of this mess and I’ll get him back for you.”
Tears are swimming in her eyes as she looks up at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “You can’t make that promise.”
Actually, I think I can. Griff loved her once. Until her, he’d never loved anyone in his life. Not his parents. Maybe not even me. He hasn’t loved anyone since her, from everything I’ve heard. I think there’s a damn good chance I can succeed. “Then I’ll sure as hell try. Just help me figure out how to tell Keeley that I’m sorry and I’ll be putting her first for the rest of our lives.”
Britta pauses a long time. Sadness, agony, and regret haunt her face. It’s so naked I almost flinch. “Don’t do anything to bring Griff back into my life. I’ve moved on. Jamie will have a new stepfather. It’s basically done. But if you want Keeley back, do the one thing your brother never did for me: find out what she values most and do your damnedest to give it to her. Not monetary things.” She shakes her head. “Meaningful things. What does she want out of life?”
“I asked her that the night we met.” More to make small talk and figure out how to coax her into bed. “Her answer was so simple yet so surprising I didn’t know how to interpret it at the time. She wants to be happy.”
“What do you think would make her happy?”
Suddenly, I know. In fact, I know everything I need to do. It’s obvious. I just didn’t want to see it because it’s going to be hard. I’ll have to sacrifice—something I’ve admittedly never been good at.
But finally, I think I’m ready. No, I know I am.
Keeley comes first. Somehow, I’m going to convince that woman to admit she loves me. Then, if she’ll let me, I’m going to spend the rest of my life making her happy.
I glance at my phone. I just need her to call me and tell me she’s coming home.