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Grayson returned a little while later, blond hair tousled and pale cheeks pink from the wind. He stopped by the front table, inspecting the books there. She glared at him and his terrible tweed jacket, at how well it flattered his shoulders and tapered down to his slim hips.

She was still staring when his phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen, tension seeping into his features. Lucy froze.

“Is it the hospital?” she asked, coming out from behind the counter. “Is everything okay? What happened?”

“If you’ll let me pick up,” Grayson said, tapping his screen. “Hello? Yes, this is him.” She walked toward him, trying to hear.

She reached to snatch the phone from his hands, and he twisted out of reach, shock clear on his face. He scowled, hissing, “Stop.”

He shifted his attention back to the phone. “Sorry, yes,” he said. Lucy chewed her bottom lip. Anxiety spiked through her, and she reached for the phone again, but he was too tall and too quick. “All right … Why? Oh … Yes, I understand … I’ll be there soon.”

He hung up, giving her an incredulous glance. “What the hell was that?” he snapped. “When someone’s talking on the phone, you’re not supposed to interfere.” He was speaking to her as if she were a child, and she would have strangled him if he didn’t have key information she needed.

“What did they say?” she asked, voice urgent. “Is Charles okay?”

“Yes,” he replied.

Lucy’s heart was still beating too fast. “Well, what is it, then?”

“I didn’t ask for details,” Grayson replied, heading in the direction of the front door. “I didn’t get the chance with you trying to snatch my phone away.”

She followed close behind him. “That’s why I wanted to talk to the doctor myself!”

“Well, they didn’t call you, they called me,” he said, whirling on her. “I’m going to speak with the doctor in person. I’m heading over now.”

“I’m coming with you,” she said. With a beckoning of her finger, her crossbody purse and maroon wool coat came floating toward her from the office, as well as a little box of baked goods she had saved for Charles earlier.

“No, you stay here,” he said, pulling car keys from his trouser pocket. “I want to see Charles alone.” His voice was harsh, and she imagined he spoke to his students in such a tone.

“Well, too bad!” she said, sliding on her coat.

He clenched his jaw. “Someone needs to look after the shop,” he said, trying to reason with her. “It’s a Friday, I’m sure there will be a good amount of customers.”

He wasn’t wrong, but he had no right to order her about. She wasn’t one of his students, and he had no authority over her.

“You’re the one going on about how it’s your store,” she said, pushing past him toward the door. She looked over her shoulder at him to add, “You stay here.”

Grayson shook his head, striding over. “Not a chance. Charles is my family.”

Lucy had almost reached the door, but then she whirled on him. Horribly, she felt tears burn her eyes. He started, taken aback.

“Charles and I may not share blood, but he’s my family in all the ways that count! And I’m sure he’ll want to see someone he actually recognizes.”

Grayson flinched—so quickly she might have imagined it—then stood perfectly still, his eyes crackling with emotion. His mouth hung slightly open, and she waited for him to yell at her for her unkind words, but he said nothing.

Guilt cut through her, and she hastily blinked her tears away, surprised by her own cruelty. She had never spoken to anyone in such a manner; she didn’t know what exactly it was about him that brought out the worst in her.

But he couldn’t stop her from going to see Charles. In many ways, Charles was the only real family she had.

She watched as Grayson closed his mouth and a muscle ticked in his jaw once, twice. He adjusted his glasses. Then he released a long breath.

“We’ll both go,” he said, voice quiet. “It’s the logical solution.”

“Fine.”

She walked out of the bookstore and into the cold afternoon and he followed behind her, turning the sign on the front door to Closed. He locked up with Charles’s keys and pointed to the car parked in front of hers; it was also Charles’s. Grayson was already taking over.

“I’ll drive,” he said, avoiding her gaze. He seemed subdued, and for a moment she wondered if her words had really hit the mark.