Interest lit Gray’s eyes. “And she taught you to cook?”
Meredith executed an eye roll. “Well,taughtmakes it sound so…nurturing.Belittledandchastisedmight be better terms.”
Gray’s grim chuckle made her smile against the bitterness. But then she locked eyes with him.
“Is it wrong to say that about the woman who took me in when my parents threw me out?”
He lowered his fork and held her gaze. “No. It’s not,” he said gently. “She took in the mother of her grandchild — as she should. She should also be kind to you.” His gentle tone evaporated, and his words made something in Meredith unknot.
He was right. A part of her had tacitly accepted that since Leona had saved her in her shameful state, poor treatment was no less than she deserved. But that didn’t make sense. Why save someone only to bully them?
Still, criticizing Leona in front of someone other than Brooke — someone she’d only known for a few of weeks — felt risky.
“I mean, we have issues, but she’s a wonderful grandmother.” Meredith considered their relationship and shook her head. “I just don’t think I’m the kind of daughter-in-law figure she really wants.”
At this, Gray frowned. “Why not?” He took a bite of the French bread, which gave with just the right amount of crunch. His eyes widened in surprise. “This bread.” He took a second bite and spoke with his mouth full. “Please tell me there’s more.”
Meredith covered her mouth with the back of her hand, hiding her laugh. “I can make more.”
Eyes still wide, he nodded. “Yes. More.” She started to set her tray aside, and he stopped her.
“But not now. When we’ve killed this. Now, tell me why you aren’t Leona’s ideal daughter-in-law.”
“Daughter-in-lawfigure,” she corrected. “Not marrying Jamie. Never will.”
She watched him fight a smile, a smile he couldn’t entirely conquer. One that made her heart beat a little faster.
“I think I’m too difficult.”
At this, Gray’s brows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“You know, uncooperative…”
He shook his head.
“Critical…”
He shook his head harder.
“Stubborn…”
Gray stilled before giving her a look of contemplation. “You may be alittlestubborn.”
Laughing, Meredith nudged him in the knee with her toe. In a flash, Gray captured her foot with his left hand, and she squealed. At the sound, Gray burst out laughing, but he didn’t let go.
“What wasthat?”he asked.
He gripped her foot as if it were a prize. As if he had no intention of letting go.
Her heart hammered. She took a shaking breath before answering. “I’m ticklish.” It was true, but it wasn’t the reason her face flooded with heat and the bed suddenly seemed much smaller.
His eyes, already glittering with mischief, grew wide again, and he gave a slow nod. “Ah, I see.” His hold never loosened, but his fingers played a scale along her foot.
His touch didn’t tickle. It awakened. She felt it in places she shouldn’t.
A moment of clarity descended on her. Somewhere, they had crossed a line. He shouldn’t have grabbed her foot. She shouldn’t have poked him with it. And she shouldn’t have been sitting barefoot on his bed. But he shouldn’t have told her to.
They had crossed a line, and Meredith didn’t know how to uncross it. She was also pretty sure she didn’t want to. But wanting what she couldn’t have was a life Meredith Ryan was used to living, so she made herself take a deep breath, pick up her fork again, and continue eating. Pretending she could ignore his touch was the only thing she knew how to do.
