Chapter 21

Several days later, Grayson made his way to the Hart ranch on a mission. He’d listened to Arash, and this time he’d heard him. But before he could approach Bree, he had to take care of some unfinished business.

He parked his Porsche convertible in front of the Hart ranch. He was heading up the steps when a ranch hand told him Mr. Duke wasn’t in the house but at the stables.

“Thanks,” Grayson said. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for his meeting with Duke Hart. If ever there was a snowball’s chance in hell of Grayson and Bree making a go of it one day, Grayson had to make peace with Duke.

When he reached the stables, Grayson followed the direction of Duke’s voice until he found him in a stall. But Duke wasn’t alone. He was knee deep with a veterinarian in what appeared to be the delivery of a calf.

Upon hearing the crackling of the hay, Duke looked up and saw Grayson. But rather than be surprised or even angry, Duke ignored him and continued helping the vet pull the calf free from his mother’s womb. It looked like a nasty task and a difficult one since both men were struggling to get the calf free.

“If we don’t get her out, we’re going to lose her,” the vet said.

Duke glanced at Grayson. “Well, don’t just stand there, boy, get in here and help.”

Grayson didn’t relish getting his designer jeans soiled, but he’d come to Duke on his territory and if this was the only way he could talk to the man, so be it. He pushed up his sleeves and joined them.

It took a good thirty minutes, but eventually between the three men, they freed the calf, who’d been lodged in the birth canal. When Grayson rose to his feet, his shirt and jeans were completely ruined. Duke’s didn’t look any better, but Grayson suspected he’d never worn a pair of designer jeans a day in his life.

“C’mon to the house and get cleaned up,” Duke said, wiping his hands on a clean towel a stable hand offered him. Then he shook the vet’s hand. “Good work, doc. She’s a beauty.”

“That she is.”

Several seconds later, Duke headed toward the house. He turned behind him to see if Grayson was following. “You coming or not?”

“Yes, sir,” Grayson said and walked swiftly to catch up to him.

Once they made it to the family home, Duke directed him upstairs to the guest quarters and told him where he could find the shower and incidentals.

“I think Caleb has some clothes here that should fit you. I’ll go get ‘em and leave them here while you’re in the shower.”

“Thanks.” Grayson didn’t know why Duke was being so nice to him, but he’d take it. After everything Grayson had tried to pull, he’d thought he’d be kicked in his ass as soon as he set foot on the ranch.

The hot shower and a change of clothes felt good. And Duke was right: He and Caleb were nearly the same size and the T-shirt and Wranglers fit him pretty well. When he was dressed, Grayson made his way downstairs and found Duke had showered and was standing up, enjoying a drink in the living room.

Apparently Duke had poured one for Grayson too. It was the middle of the day, and though Grayson didn’t usually drink then, he took the glass Duke offered him.

Duke tipped his glass to Grayson and then sat down in a large wing-backed chair. “So, you wanna tell me why you deigned to set foot on my ranch? I’d think it was beneath you, Wells, since you’ve been so intent on destroying me and everything I love.”

Grayson’s words reverberated through the room, reminding Grayson of the venom he’d spewed a week ago when Duke had confronted him in his office.

“You’re right. I have no right to be here,” Grayson began, “given how I’ve treated you and your daughter.”

Duke’s eyes penetrated his. “But you’re here nonetheless. Why?” Duke wasn’t about to make this easy for him.

“I’m here because I owe you an apology.”

Duke sipped his drink. “Oh that’s rich.”

Grayson noted the disdain in his voice and ignored it. He continued. “After hearing your side of the story, I’ve come to realize that bad decisions were made by both your parts, you and my father—as well as me. I accept my role in this entire debacle. I could have come to you and talked it over and tried to resolve the matter amicably.”

“Hmmm, is that so?”

“Yes, it is,” Grayson replied unapologetically. “I can accept the fact that my father was a gambler and a drunk who ruined our family and drove my mother into becoming a bitter old woman, bent on revenge. A revenge she fostered in me. If you’ll accept that as my father’s friend, you could have done better by him and his family. You could have tried to find us, check in on us, to make sure we survived.”

Duke stared at him for several long moments, not saying a word. Grayson knew that if they couldn’t come to terms, he’d have no hope of reconciling with Bree.

Duke took a sip of his drink and said, “I can accept that.”

Grayson let out an audible sigh of relief.

“But here’s the thing, son.” Duke sat upright and looked Grayson dead in the eye. “I accept the role I played in not being the best friend I could have been, but you, you took things many steps further by involving my daughter in your shenanigans. That,” he said, pointing his finger at Grayson, “is what I have a hard time accepting.”

“Fair enough.” Grayson swallowed the bile in his mouth because Duke was right. “It was never my intention to involve your family in this vendetta, but the first time I laid eyes on Bree, I lost my head. And I admit that I was bewitched. I did seek her out, but not because she was your daughter, but because she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

“My daughter is attractive,” Duke concurred, “same as her mama, Abigail. It was that way for me with Abby. Once I laid eyes on her, there were no other women”—Duke looked down at the floor—“except for that one unfortunate night.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at Grayson. “Anyway, all I’m saying is I can understand love at first sight, if that’s what you’re saying happened to you.”

“It is. And if by understanding, do you mean you won’t stand in my way if I try to get Bree back?” Grayson asked. “Because I love her, Mr. Hart, and I want to marry Bree if she’ll have me.”

Duke threw back his head and laughed. “Marry? Bree? Right now? Son, you’ve lost your mind. My daughter is fit to be tied.”

“I know. I know it’s going to take time to win her trust.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“But you won’t stand in my way?” Grayson pressed for an answer. He had to know what he was up against.

Duke shook his head. “I don’t speak for my daughter. At least not anymore. Those days are long gone. So you’ll have to ask her.”

“But you won’t stand in my way?” Grayson asked again.

“Not if you’re who she wants.”

“Thank you, Duke.” Grayson rose and offered him his hand. “I don’t know what the future holds, but one day, God willing, I’m going to make your daughter my wife.”

The two men shook hands, and Grayson left feeling encouraged. He’d made progress with Duke, but he wasn’t so sure about Bree. She had every right to be angry at him, hate him even. He could only hope that the love he suspected she felt outweighed the negative.

“I can’t believe I’m in the Big Easy again,” Bree said a few days later as she helped London wipe down tables in preparation for the dinner rush at her restaurant Shay’s in the French Quarter. The last time she’d been here had been for a girls’ weekend with Jada when London had been dating her husband, Chase. Funny how long ago that all seemed. It was a like a lifetime had passed rather than a year.

“Time sure does move quickly,” London said. “And I especially never thought I’d see the day when you’d clean tables.”

Bree laughed. “You’re confusing me with Jada. I’ve never been against manual labor. Our baby sister, on the other hand, would hate to break a nail.”

“How long do you think you’re going to stay?” London asked as she handed Bree napkin holders and salt and pepper shakers for the tables.

“I don’t know. Not long,” Bree replied with a shrug. “You’re not kicking me out already, are you? I know you and Chase are newlyweds and all.”

“We would never kick you out,” Chase Tanner said, coming behind Bree. She glanced behind her at her big lug of a brother-in-law. His amazingly fit physique and broad shoulders were shown off to perfection in his fitted T-shirt and jeans, and his ruggedly handsome face with a trim goatee completed the look. Bree had to admit London had lucked out. “We love having you here, don’t we, babe?” He leaned over to plant a kiss on London’s full lips.

“That’s right.” London smiled when Chase playfully smacked her bottom before he went back into the kitchen. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thanks, London.”

Stay. That’s exactly what Bree intended to do. She would go back to Dallas when the hurt stung a little less and she could stand to face Grayson. It was inevitable that their paths would cross again—they were in the same industry, after all—but she refused to fall apart when that happened. Right now, however, she was too weak.

If she saw him, she might make a complete and utter fool of herself and beg him to take her to bed. When it came to Grayson, she had no self-control. Given the way she felt about him, if he made one move toward her, she would lose her self-respect as well.

When she thought about how she’d behaved with Grayson, how she let him all the way in and not just physically, she grimaced. She’d let him into her heart, into her soul. She’d thought they were building on something—if not a future, a solid foundation. The times she’d stayed over at the mansion she’d seen how easily she could fit into his life, and he seemed to be making room for her. Although Julia had been frigid, Sonya and Cameron loved her and the feeling was mutual.

How could I have gotten it so horribly wrong? Clearly, she’d seen only what she wanted to see—a fantasy that wasn’t built on reality. The entire time Grayson had been wheeling and dealing, scheming to get back at Duke for the perceived wrongs against his father. In the process, he’d shattered her trust and faith in everything they’d shared.

Looking back, Bree would never know if he’d meant any of the things he’d said or things he’d done. Was any moment of their time together real? Or had he created this relationship for his own sadistic purposes?

No, she needed to stay in New Orleans for a few weeks if not months, until she could trust herself enough to go back to Dallas.

She was gone. Grayson stared inside Bree’s empty apartment and knew she was nowhere near. He could feel it. Whenever Bree was around, there was a certain energy and vitality in the space she occupied. From the looks of her place, she’d been gone for several days.

Had he missed his chance? Had he stayed away too long and lost the woman he loved? Fate couldn’t be that cruel. He couldn’t find the one woman he was meant to love, meant to be with, only to have her taken away because he couldn’t let go of the past.

Grayson sat down on her couch and shook his head in despair. He’d royally screwed up their relationship. Was there even the slightest chance that he would ever get Bree back? That she would forgive him and give him a second chance to prove he was a man worthy of her love?

He knew she loved him.

And I love her.

He’d known it for weeks, but he’d been afraid to voice it because they were on borrowed time because of his lies, his deception. Instead, he’d shown her his love with his actions, with his body. He’d shown her that he loved her mind, body, and soul.

And somehow, someway, someday, he would get Bree back.