Speaking of mothers, I’ve just spotted mine darting past the kitchen. “Mom!”
Regan grips my hand so fiercely, her fingernails pierce my skin as effectively as they did my back last night. “You said we were staying at a hotel.”
She expresses her comment softly enough neither my mom, aunt or . . .I do a quick head count. . . four cousins will hear her.
“We are. The Manor is kind of a hotel.”
“Owned by your family.”
Her words are issued with a glare hot enough to melt ice, but a stranger wouldn’t know that. She has a perfect smile plastered on her face, and her shoulders are high and without tension. If I didn’t know her as well as I do, I’d assume she knew of my intentions to bombard her with all my family in one sitting.
It’s a pity I know her very well. She’s not just planning to dissect my nuts the instant we’re alone; she’ll boil them up and feed them to the hounds.Even more reason for me to keep her occupied.
After introducing Regan to my mom in the same manner I did Darcy, we make our way to the rest of my family standing frozen, gawking at us. They’re not stunned by the way Regan carries herself with grace while her eyes scream troublemaker. They want to know what caused the drastic shift in my dating stance between Easter and now.
A few months ago, I declared the odds of me coming home with a date at Christmas would be zero to none. Now, I’m striving to work out if Regan and I will do Christmas at The Manor or just New Years. I guess it will depend on which celebration is more important to Regan’s family. Mine will be happy with either. As long as there is enough food to sponge up the copious amounts of alcohol they consume, they’ll celebrate the day as if it is the best day of the year.
We make it through an additional six introductions before Regan returns her focus to my mom, who is leading the campaign to assimilate her into our tight family dynamic with the gusto of a tigress. “Is there a bar here? Or anywhere within a ten-mile radius?”
My mom slaps Regan’s arm as she steps into her private bubble, popping the only defense Regan had left at her disposal. “Do you think any of us would be here if we didn’t?” My mom’s eccentric words change Regan’s fake smile to a real one. “Why do you think we’re loitering in the kitchen? We’re waiting for the clock to strike five.”
Regan bumps my mom with her hip, making the admiration in my mom’s eyes grow tenfold. “It’s five somewhere in the world, am I right?”
“Hell yes, sister. Then let’s do this,” Darcy squeals, happy someone else has taken over the troublesome reins she usually controls.
I’m left hanging in the kitchen when my mom and Darcy curl their arms around Regan’s waist to drag her toward the fully stocked bar. It isn’t a hard feat considering Regan has been seeking a way to flee from me since we arrived.
Within seconds, Grayson and I are the only Myers left standing in the once bustling space. “You know you’ve lost her for eternity now, right?” His black boots clip the wooden floor as he spans the distance between us. “They’ve been seeking a new member to join their unit since Lorraine left for college last semester.”
He pops his hip on the kitchen counter, bringing his six foot four height closer to my six foot two stature. “Is she really your girlfriend?” His eyes say the words he can’t express:Or is she your mark?
“Have you got a few hours? Because it will take at least that many for me to work through my own confusion before I can tackle yours.”
Grayson nudges his head in the opposite direction from where Regan and our female relatives just went. “I’ve got more than a few hours. Let’s hustle.”
He heads out the door we entered only twenty minutes ago, not bothering to turn around and check if I’m following him. He knows I’ll follow, but he wouldn’t care if I didn’t. Grayson isn’t called the game player for no reason. He knows everyone’s strong points and weaknesses. That’s how he plays the game so well. If you’re on his team, you’re set. I wouldn’t recommend getting on his bad side, though.
* * *
Six beers later—Grayson, not me—my older brother slumps into a wicker chair in one of the many screened patios of The Manor. “Are you certain the guy from Regan’s apartment is the same man who assaulted you?”
I nod. “What other reason would he have to clock me over the head?”
“I can think of a few.” Ignoring my squinted gaze, Grayson rests his feet on the glass table holding his empty beer bottles. “Your girl is right: you ain’t got shit in evidence. If I hadn’t seen the little vein in your forehead working overtime as you recited the facts, I would’ve believed this was a ruse to force her here against her wishes.” He uncrosses his ankles and leans forward to grab another beer from a cooler at his side. “What about that techie you mentioned? Has he found anything more concrete?”
I drop my eyes to Regan’s phone that I haven’t let out of my sight for a single minute today. There are no messages, emails, or missed calls—unfortunately.
My disappointed sigh must answer Grayson’s question on my behalf. “Give me the afternoon to get clearance, then I’ll run some searches.”
“You’ll do that for Regan?” Shock resonates in my tone.
Grayson is the first to tell you his time isn’t free. If you want it, you better be willing to pay for it, so I’m shocked he’s offering to help without additional stipulations being discussed.
I yank away from Grayson when he tugs on the clump of hair on my chin. “I’m not doing it for your girl. I’m doing it for you.”
I wait, knowing there is more. I’m proven right when he says, “On one condition.”
I’m not happy, but I jerk my chin up all the same. I’ll even go as far as pretending I haven’t noticed him eyeballing a beautiful redhead from the corner of his eye the past two hours if it gets me one step closer to unearthing the person striving to hurt Regan.
