“You sure?” His gaze is enigmatic behind his shades. “No seasickness?”
“No,” I say and refocus on the pleasure of this perfect day. But the sheer joy I felt earlier is gone, tainted by the old memories—and the knowledge that if I’m not careful, I could follow in my mother’s footsteps.
I could end up using Marcus the way she used her men.
* * *
We return to my grandparents’ house late in the afternoon, and Marcus excuses himself to catch up on some work before dinner. Which works perfectly for me, as I have to finish editing the shifter novella and call Mrs. Metz to check on my cats.
To my relief, all is status quo with my fur babies—Queen Elizabeth and Cottonball are behaving themselves, while Mr. Puffs has shifted his destructive focus from my pillow to my blanket. However, speaking with my landlady reminds me that I have to get serious about finding a new place to live, so instead of working on the novella, I’m scrolling through Craigslist when my grandmother comes out to join me on the lanai.
“What’s this?” she asks, coming up behind me, and I jump, startled, before slamming my laptop shut.
“Nothing, Grandma.” My voice is an octave too high as I face her, so I try again, this time with a big smile. “Just looking for a new bedside lamp. Mine broke a while back.” Which is true. Mr. Puffs knocked it over months ago, and I’ve been meaning to look for a replacement for ages. That’s not what I was doing at that particular moment, but as far as lies go, it’s only a partial one.
“A lamp?” Grandma looks confused, but then she shakes her head. “Never mind, then. My vision must be going, because I thought I saw you looking at apartment listings.”
“Oh, um… no. No, that’s not it. I… Marcus and I are moving in together, remember?”
Grandma’s face brightens, and I mentally kick myself. Why did I just say that? It’s bad enough Marcus is saying all that stuff in an effort to manipulate me, but now I’m joining in, playing along like a puppet.
His obedient, sex-crazed puppet.
“Of course I remember, sweetheart.” Grandma pulls up a chair to sit next to me. “So tell me… Are you excited? This is such a big step for you both.”
Ugh. Why did I go there? Seriously, why? All I had to do was say that I was looking for a lamp and stop there. But no. I just had to blab, and here we are.
Dropping my gaze to my hands, I mumble, “Yeah, sure.” My cuticles aren’t in the best shape, I notice, and there’s a hangnail on my thumb. How ugly. I bet Emmeline never gets that; her perfect nails wouldn’t dare to hang in any way.
“What does that mean?” Grandma asks, and I look up from my ragged cuticles to see her regarding me with gentle curiosity and more than a hint of concern. “Are you uncertain about this?” she continues. “Uncomfortable in any way?”
“It’s just… happening very fast.” There. That’s not a lie. Everything is happening way too fast. Even if Marcus were the type of guy I normally date—a little geeky and sweet—I’d be freaked out at the idea of moving in with him at any point in the near future. But Marcus is about as far from the guys I’ve dated as a Category 5 hurricane from a gentle breeze, and I’m absolutely petrified at the possibility that he might railroad me into this.
Which he won’t. I won’t let him.
No matter what Kendall or anyone else thinks.
“Yes, that young man of yours knows exactly what he wants and goes after it, doesn’t he?” Grandma says, smiling sympathetically, and I nod, relieved to be able to share at least part of my turmoil with her.
“He does. And it’s overwhelming at times.” Like pretty much all times. “Marcus is… a lot to handle.” Especially when a part of me is still wondering if it’s all a game to him, if he’ll get bored with me and move on to someone who fits his requirements better.
Grandma’s expression turns serious. “You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, right, sweetheart? I’m sorry if your grandfather and I came off as pushing you earlier. Obviously, we want you settled and happy with a good man—and Marcus seems like a very good man—but if you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Living together is a serious step, and you should take as long as you need to make your decision. His apartment won’t run away.”
“I know, but it’s not just that.” I take a breath. “You’ve read the article; you know how wealthy he is. Everything in his life is expensive. Just the sunglasses he was wearing today probably cost more than my monthly rent. And he has a private jet and a butler who cooks and a housekeeping service and a company that takes care of his plants. How do I keep up with that? How do I—” My voice cracks. “How do I date him without turning into her?”
Grandma tilts her head. “Ah. So that’s what this is about.” She sighs. “I suppose I should’ve known. Sweetheart”—she covers my hand with her warm palm—“you couldn’t be like Brianne if you tried. Your mother… she had something broken inside her. Something missing. It wasn’t anything we did; she was just born that way. It took me a long time to come to terms with it, and there are nights when I still wake up in a cold sweat, thinking about it, wondering if it was my fault after all. But she was like that always. Even as a baby, she’d steal other children’s toys with zero remorse.” Old pain glimmers in my grandmother’s eyes. “We didn’t know what to do. No matter how hard we tried to instill empathy in her, she only cared about what she wanted, only did what made her feel
