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My feelings had grown by leaps and bounds during the past seven days—to the point where I couldn’t imagine my life without Jeremy in it. He didn’t treat me as though our engagement was fake, especially with how often he’d taken me without anything between us.
I hadn’t even thought about protection the night he took my virginity, and I had tended to lose myself in the heat of the moment since then. I probably should have brought it up by now, considering the risks we were taking. But a big part of me just didn’t want to say anything when I wanted this all to be real.
Living as Jeremy’s fiancée made it impossible for my heart not to get involved, and I’d already fallen hard for him. He was everything I had ever wanted from a life partner, and our romance reminded me so much of my grandparents that I couldn’t help but think that we had been destined to meet and fall in love…assuming he shared my feelings.
He’d certainly done a heck of a job convincing my grandfather that he was madly in love with me. Grandpa had accepted his place in my life, and they’d bonded over the mutual love of real estate over dinner a few nights ago. This evening, we would have dinner together, grilled by the men in my life.
The doorbell rang, but we weren’t expecting any additional visitors. The guys were on the back deck, where Jeremy was showing off his gourmet outdoor kitchen to my grandfather. Between the gas grill, pizza oven, smoker, and flat top grill, he had plenty of gadgets for them to appreciate.
Padding over to the door, I wished I’d ignored the sound as soon as I pulled it open because the last two people I wanted to see were standing there—my parents.
My mom’s fists were planted against her hips as she glared at me. “What is this I hear about Dad filing a grant deed on the Malibu house because you’re engaged?”
I should have known they would show up when they heard the news and approached them myself so this confrontation wouldn’t happen at the worst possible time—when my grandfather was visiting us.
I tried shutting the door, but my mom pushed past me, and my dad followed her inside before I could stop them. Very aware of how easily my mom was able to push Grandpa’s buttons, I quietly shut the door and gestured toward the nearest room, Jeremy’s home office, where we could talk in private.
My mom huffed out an irritated breath but did as I asked, my dad sticking close to her. Once we were safely in the office, I closed the door behind us and turned to them. “How did you know where to find me?”
“I stopped at your gallery, but that girl who works for you wouldn’t tell me anything except that you weren’t expected in today. Or anytime this week.” My mom rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand why you didn’t take my advice and fire her ages go.”
Although my parents hadn’t done much to raise me, they had no problem sticking their nose in my business on the rare instances when I saw them. Like the opening of my gallery, when they’d caused a ruckus over the fact that they hadn’t been included on the invitation list. As if they’d ever given me a reason to think they’d even want to be there.
I still didn’t know why they’d shown up that day because they’d been too busy complaining about how my manager treated them when they arrived to bother to congratulate me on the opening. And I hadn’t seen them since then. Until now, when they wanted something from me.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I muttered, “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“If you must know, I had to call several of my friends from the club until I found one who knew where your so-called fiancé lives,” my dad grumbled, puffing out his chest. “It was terribly embarrassing.”
I refused to feel guilty over not sharing. “Maybe if you were more involved in my life, you’d know that I got engaged and moved in with my fiancé.”
“Are you seriously going to go on about that again, McKenna?” my mom chided. “You’re twenty-one now, old enough not to need your parents involved in every little thing like you wanted when you were younger.”
She acted as though I asked for a lot from them, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I’d learned at five years old how little they cared for me when they dumped me on my grandparents’ doorstep so they could go on a month-long tour of Europe that turned into three. “Getting engaged and moving in with someone are milestones that most parents would want to know about, but I guess it makes sense that you wouldn’t care about that since nothing I’ve done has ever really mattered to you before. So how about we circle back to the real reason you’re here—you have questions about what Grandpa is doing with the Malibu house?”
“Questions?” my mom echoed, her eyes going wide as she shook her head. “That’s putting it mildly. I’d like to know what in the hell is going on, McKenna. You have no right to my father’s property, let alone the crown jewel of his real estate portfolio.”
“No right?” My laugh held no humor. “I’d prefer to never have to think about the day when Grandpa is no longer here, but when the time comes, I have every bit as much of a claim as you since I’m his granddaughter.”
My mom’s chin jutted out. “But I’m his daughter. You should inherit from me, not him.”
I shook my head with a snort of disbelief. “As if there would be anything left. You’d go through all that Grandpa worked so hard to build without thinking twice about any of his effort or how much it meant to him. The Malibu house was your mother’s dream home, where they raised you…and then me when you couldn’t be bothered. But all you see is dollar signs when you look at it.”
“As if your motives are so pure,” she hissed, her eyes narrowing to slits. “You might have your grandfather wrapped around your finger, but you don’t fool me with your innocent act. You must have been sucking up to him to steal the house out from under me. Why else would he suddenly decide to deed it over to you?”
“Maybe because I was the only family member who visited him in the hospital after his surgery?” I suggested, my voice thick with sarcasm as I ticked off a bunch of other reasons. “I was also the one who checked on him at the rehab center, took him to his follow-up appointment with the surgeon, made sure the home health team was doing everything they should…basically the only one who expressed even the tiniest bit of concern over the fact he had a freaking operation.”
She waved off my concern. “You’re exaggerating again. It was just routine surgery. Everyone in their eighties needs to have their hip replaced.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and gritted my teeth, holding back the scream I desperately wanted to let out. “First of all, hip replacements come with a heck of a lot of risks. Also, you should already know this, but your dad’s eightieth birthday isn’t even for five more years. He just celebrated his seventy-fifth last month with a delicious upside-down pineapple cake that I baked for him, in case you were wondering.”
Completely ignoring my point, my dad decided it was time to throw his weight around too. “Which only begs the question—why did he feel the need to deed you the Malibu property now? It isn’t as though he’s at death’s door. There was no reason to start the process to transfer ownership to you.”
My mom nodded. “Yes, exactly. This doesn’t make any sense…unless you took advantage of him while he was vulnerable.”
“Maybe he’s no longer competent to make financial decisions on his own,” my dad suggested, “which means we can contest the grant deed since your mother should make these decisions for him.”
My grandfather had already appointed me as his power of attorney in both financial and health matters should the need ever arise, but that wouldn’t stop my parents from trying to get a judge to side with them. They had tunnel vision when it came to money, and my grandfather was worth enough for them to put up quite a fight.
