“What are you not telling me?”
“I’ll explain when you get here.” Then she hung up.
“What’s going on?” Colton’s hand flitted across my shoulder.
I got up, staring at the blue, empty wall and wondering why she was in town. Dad had changed the trust, letting her off the hook. Unless he hadn’t. I dipped into my brain to figure out the time between when he told me he would change the trust and when he was rushed to the hospital.
Colton waved a hand in front of me. “Baby doll, you’re scaring me.”
I swung my gaze from the wall to him.
A troubled frown cut a path across his forehead. “Talk to me.”
“My aunt is in town.” I couldn’t remember if I’d told Colton about the situation with my aunt, so I explained the trust and guardianship as I dressed.
He slipped on his jeans before trying to tame his unkempt hair. “Maybe she’s here for money.”
I stopped midway of poking my arms through the sleeves of my top. “We don’t have any money.” Dad had his 401(k) from his former employer and other savings that I was aware of, but it wasn’t like we had a million dollars. Aside from that, I didn’t see my dad leaving his sister money. On top of that, she had a job, and I suspected one that paid well, especially given her recent promotion.
I finished dressing. I wasn’t about to figure out her motives, not while standing in a bedroom with a shirtless Colton.
I raked my gaze over my gorgeous boyfriend, drinking in every muscle and curve on him from head to toe. I was the luckiest girl on the planet.
He gave me a cheeky grin. “See something you like?” His tone was playful.
I licked my lips, shrugging as I fixated on his gorgeous body.
He chuckled as he threw his shirt over his head.
The doorknob rattled. “Skye, it’s Georgia. Open up.”
Colton picked up his shoes. “I’ll meet you downstairs?”
When he opened the door, they exchanged a good morning before she ambled in, looking like she’d had a rough night—wild hair, bloodshot eyes, and smudged makeup.
She yawned. “I feel like shit. I’ll never drink again.”
I giggled. “I know the feeling.”
She took inventory of the crumpled sheet and blanket as questions started to pile up.
“I’ll tell you everything later, but I have to get home. My aunt is here from California.”
She stifled another yawn. “For the funeral?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I guess.” That was the only explanation I could come up with other than money, as Colton pointed out.
She pursed her lips. “Is she here to take you back with her? I swear, she better not.”
“She travels a ton for her new job.”
“Maybe she was fired,” Georgia said.
“Not helping.” I huffed as I started for the door.
“Sorry.” She followed me out.
When Georgia and I approached the landing of the curved staircase, Mr. Dyson’s baritone voice boomed below.
“I told you not to throw any more parties. Did I not?” Mr. Dyson asked.
Georgia peered over the bannister. “I think they’re in the study.”
“Let’s go,” I said. “Colton is waiting for me.”
She didn’t move. “Um… We have to find another way out.”
“Why?”
“If Mr. Dyson sees me, he’ll know I’ve been drinking and he’ll call my parents.”
“The only thing I can tell is you had a wild night. Besides, he’s too busy chewing Grady’s ass.”
She smoothed her hands over her hair. “I’ll meet you outside.” She bounded down the stairs like someone was chasing her, but no sooner than she reached the bottom, Mr. Dyson came out with a mean expression on his face.
I held my breath as I climbed down one step at a time.
The air thickened as Mr. Dyson considered Georgia, then me. Fury jumped out of his blue eyes, and I knew he was about to say something fatherly. Instead, he tucked a hand into the pocket of his tan pants. “Skyler.” His soft tone belied the terse expression he wore. “Please accept my sincere condolences.”
Grady and Colton emerged from the study. Grady looked like he’d been through a hurricane, whipped around and battered. Or maybe it was bedhead.
“See, Dad?” Grady stood next to the elder Dyson. “We were trying to help Skyler take her mind off her dad.”
In part, he was telling the truth.
Colton’s long legs crossed the room in three easy strides until he had his hand on the handle of the front door.
I hurried toward Colton as I said, “Thank you, Mr. Dyson.”
“Oh, and Skyler,” Mr. Dyson said. “Please let me know when the funeral is. I would like to attend.”
“Yes, sir. I do need to get home.”
“Very well.” Mr. Dyson gripped his son’s shoulder. “Grady, in the kitchen, please.” Then he strode away.
The four of us let out a collective sigh.
“Where’s Mia?” Georgia asked.
Grady rubbed his neck. “Still sleeping. I need to clean up this mess before I get grounded for a year.” He waved his hand around.
Red cups littered the floor and a couple of small tables that had framed pictures and silk flowers on them. Yikes! I could only imagine what the kitchen looked like after a night of beer pong.
“I’ll stay and help,” Georgia offered on a sigh.
“I would, too, but I have to get home.” I hugged Georgia. Then I said to Grady, “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Colton filled me in. It’s cool.”
Once Colton and I were in his truck, I blew out a much-needed breath. “That went well. Not.”
He started the engine, laughing, a sound that erased the nerves that had settled in my stomach, at least for the time being.
34
The minute I walked into the house, I felt uneasiness in the air. I stopped by the leather couch and inhaled and exhaled a couple of times. That reality that had hit me earlier was back in full force. Dad wasn’t there. I clutched my chest, hoping the tightness would subside.
Stella mewled before she emerged from the hallway.
I grinned as she nudged her head into my leg. I’d never been so
