Okay, so it’s not the complete truth because some tiny absurd part of me insists he couldn’t forget me when I could never forget him.
Cav’s fork clatters against his plate as he turns. He slips the utensil from my hand and sets it on the counter.
“Do you really fucking think that?” His eyes flash golden-green and his brows draw together. This is the Cav is pissed look.
“What? That you walked away and never looked back? It certainly seems accurate. Unless you want to tell me you were thinking of me the whole time you were fucking Windsor Reed too?”
The gossip sites were overrun with news of the two of them for the last year. And yes, I read all the articles, despite telling myself I wouldn’t every single time.
“I never stopped thinking about you. I sure as hell didn’t walk away and never look back. I’ve never forgotten a single thing.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“I didn’t have a choice.” His jaw muscle ticks, and I know there’s a lot more to the story than what he’s telling me.
“You always have a choice.” That’s one thing I believe without question.
“I didn’t then, but I do now. And I’m here.” His eyes plead that he’s sincere, and yet I still can’t trust him.
“No other explanation? What would you do if you were me, Cav? What if I’d been the one to stand you up and bail out of your life for three years with no word? Wouldn’t you have questions? Want a few more answers that weren’t total bullshit?”
He doesn’t even blink. If anything, his stare gets more intent. I’m unable to look away, hostage to his gaze.
“I’d thank whatever gods and devils I needed to that you found your way back into my life, and I’d worry about the details later. You wanted this, Greer. You never would’ve posted that ad if you didn’t. So, what’s it gonna take to make it right? You want me to grovel? Because I’m not the kind of man who will ever do that. But if you want proof that I’m here for real, I won’t stop until you believe it.”
I look away first. Cav has always been so damn intense—a force unto himself. Whatever his reasons were for leaving, it’s clear I’m not getting the explanation I want so desperately.
Can I live with that? I don’t know.
He climbs off the bar stool and grabs his plate, then tosses the rest of the omelet in the trash. I watch wordlessly as he rinses the plate, lays it in the sink, wipes his hands, and heads for the door.
“Make up your mind, Greer. This time it’s not a game.”
Cav’s words play in a loop in my head as I gear up to interview my client. I’ve never been to Rikers Island before, and if Creighton knew I was going, he’d put me under 24/7 security. When my driver gives me a double take at the address I deliver, I know it’s only a matter of time before my brother finds out.
My tattletale of a driver texts him immediately, and my phone rings.
“Please tell me you did not just ask to be driven to Rikers Island, Greer.”
Glaring at Ed¸ I mouth, Really?
“Hello, darling brother, how are you? I’m fine. Just salvaging some self-worth by continuing to work after I quit my job that I should’ve been fired from but they were afraid of you.”
“Greer . . .” Creighton’s growl carries over the line, and I can hear roadies in the background and someone calling out orders.
I really don’t want to get into the same conversation we had last time, so I jump on a subject guaranteed to grab his attention. “How’s Holly? The baby bump is looking so damn cute in the pictures I’ve been seeing online.”
“Don’t even try to change the subject.”
Plan? Fail.
“Seriously, Crey. I’m working. It’s not a big deal. Their security is tight, and I’m in absolutely no danger. Stand. Down.”
“If I were in the city right now, I’d go with you myself. You need to take Ed inside with you. I’m not taking chances with your safety. Who the hell are you interviewing anyway? And we have a whole shitload of other stuff to discuss. Like why you’ve suddenly decided prisoners’ rights is an appropriate use of your free time.”
“I’ll make sure Ed comes inside with me. I won’t go alone. I’m not an idiot.”
With that, Ed puts the car into drive and we’re officially headed to Rikers. God, I hope this isn’t just one more bad decision in a long line of bad decisions I’ve made lately.
“You know I’m worried about you.”
“I know, but you should worry about your wife and your baby on the way.”
My subject change works like a champ this time.
“Holly’s fine. Radiant, actually. I’m going to keep her barefoot and pregnant for as long as I can.”
I laugh, and it’s the first genuine humor I’ve felt in days. “You better watch yourself. If she overhears you, she’s going to tear you a new one.” My sister-in-law is nothing if not feisty.
“I’m already getting the look of death from across the room, but thank you for your concern.”
“Where are you?”
“Denver, tonight anyway. Who the hell knows tomorrow. We’ll be back in Nashville next week, and she’s done with touring until after the baby is born.”
A giant grin stretches across my face. I’m going to be an auntie, and I can’t wait to spoil my new niece rotten.
“That sounds like a good plan. Keep her happy, Crey. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Creighton starts to say something else, but I’m sure it’s just going to be more orders, so I hang up. When my phone doesn’t start ringing again immediately, I count myself lucky. Being Creighton Karas’s little sister isn’t the easiest thing in the world, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.