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“Three weeks,” he says as he pulls a chair out from a small round table and gestures for me to sit. “That’s not a problem for you, is it?”
Moisture dots my forehead as the warm wind whips around my body. “You could have said six months and that wouldn’t be a problem for me.”
“Not in a hurry to get back?”
“No.” I lower myself into the chair and set my plate down. A bird sings in the tree near the deck, and it smooths all my ruffled feathers. “Why would I ever want to leave this place?” I take in the opulence a second time and shake my head. “Why do you?”
Will drops down into the seat across from me. “My work is in New York.”
“Can’t you write code from here?”
“Yes, and that’s what I plan to do these next few weeks, but I want to be close to my family. Granddad is...” His gaze lowers, a deep sadness in his eyes.
Without even thinking about it, I place my hand over his. “I understand that. He’s the patriarch that keeps you all together.” It was something my father once told me. He’d also told me all of James’s sons had a penchant for younger women and had left a trail of broken homes behind them. It saddened me, although Will isn’t the kind of guy who’d want anyone’s pity. I can relate. I don’t want pity, either. He nods, eyes locked on my hand as I give his a gentle squeeze.
“It was just you and your dad growing up, right?” he asks.
My stomach tightens, and my heart misses a beat at the mention of my dad. He died right after I graduated from journalism school, and I miss him terribly. At least his dream of seeing me walk the stage to receive my diploma was realized before he passed away. That gives me a measure of comfort.
I slowly pull my hands back. “I was three when we lost Mom.”
Sympathy lurks in his eyes when he says, “That’s tough, Khloe.”
“I had my dad, though. We were very close.”
Will makes a strangled noise, and his lips twist painfully.
“What?”
“Dad left us when we were young.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I mean, he didn’t die, he’s still in our lives, but...”
I dig into my eggs and slide the fork into my mouth. “Delicious,” I murmur, and note the way Will’s attention turns to my mouth. “Sorry, go on.”
He shrugs like his father’s leaving was nothing, but I get that it’s something. “He bailed. None of the men in our family have staying power.”
My Dad pretty much said the same, but I don’t believe it’s a trait passed o
n from generation to generation. “You truly believe that?”
“Yeah, sure. So does my mother. She warned my brother Alec not to get married.” He laughs, but it holds no humor. “You read the papers, don’t you?”
For a secretive guy, I’m a little shocked at how open and honest he’s being with me. I guess he wants to ensure that I know exactly what kind of guy he is and where the two of us stand so I don’t go and get any ridiculous notions about us. With his power, money and looks, I’m sure he has women throwing themselves at him. I find none of those things appealing. Okay, maybe that’s a small lie. He’s drop-dead gorgeous, and fine, my traitorous body finds that appealing.
“I read the paper,” I say, the eggs catching in my throat. Not only do I read them, I’ve written some of the articles. At least I didn’t twist things to ruin a man’s life.
“Right,” is all he says.
I pick up the toast and nibble on the corner.
“Going down okay?” he asks, his brow quirked, and that concern does strange things to me. Blunt and demanding one minute, caring the next. He’s quite the contradiction.
“Yes, thanks.” I wash the toast down with my coffee. “Your brother ignored your mom and did get married, right? Those were the pictures James showed me, weren’t they?”
He laughs at that. “Granddad and his damn Polaroids.” Big fingers curl around his cup, and he looks at me over the rim. “Alec is married, yes.”
