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My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I saw a text from Brody.
Brody: Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to see if Cleo’s okay?
My heart dropped as I tapped out a response. This miscommunication needed to end. I hated hearing Brody sound unsure of his role in our family.
Me: She’s fine, but I’m not. Are you at home?
12
BRODY
Grant: She’s fine, but I’m not. Are you at home?
I stared down at the message from Grant as my heart began to bang in my chest.
Fen peered over my shoulder. “Told you so.”
“Stop. He just wants to make sure Mia and Jacey aren’t alone.” I quickly typed a response.
Me: No, but don’t worry. Jacey and Mia are with Gwen, and I made Cleo’s favorite macaroni and cheese, in case she’s hungry later.
The three dots swirled beside Grant’s name for a long moment, then disappeared altogether.
“See?” I said, gesturing with the phone. “Grant’s busy. He’s got a lot going on, taking care of his family, and that’s where his focus is.As it should be.We’ll sort things out later.”
“Okay, I was willing to be sympathetic yesterday, boo,” Fen said, grabbing the phone from my hand. “But you’re making a mistake. Dr. Love Machine has had a bad scare. He needs you. They all do.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to burden him with all this drama. Not when he’s already been dealing with Cleo and emotions are high.”
“That isexactlywhen he needs you most, you freaking idi—oooh.”
Fen’s insult cut off when my phone buzzed in her hand, and both of us glanced down at Grant’s message.
Grant: Dammit, get your ass home. Now.
I blinked at the screen, and my heart thundered up into my throat. “He’s mad,” I whispered, standing up on shaky legs and gesturing toward the door. “I should probably—”
“You shoulddefinitely.” Instead of being concerned about me like a true friend, Fen simply grinned. “Angry comfort sex for the win. Get it, babydoll.”
I really doubted Grant Brighton was in any mood for sex, but clearly, he was ready to have things out with me, one way or another. And although the way he’d taken pains to include me at the robotics field had made me feel warm and hopeful, there was nothing like a family emergency to remind everyone who the actual parents in the situation were.
Who the actualfamilymembers were.
Those girls were Grant and Liza’s daughters, not mine.
I held my emotions in check while I drove over to the house. Then, as uncomfortable and awkward as it was, I forced myself to ring the doorbell instead of letting myself in.
Jacey answered the door. Her forehead crinkled in confusion. “Why are you ringing the bell? Did you forget your keys or something?”
“Brody’s being an idiot,” Grant’s voice sounded from somewhere in the living room. “He thinks he’s a guest in our home now.”
Jacey’s eyes narrowed with teenage scorn. “A guest? Since when?”
I ignored this and stepped inside. “How’s Cleo? Can I see her?”
She nodded and pointed toward the living room. When I came around the corner, I saw the reason Grant hadn’t greeted me in the foyer and called me names face-to-face. Poor Cleo was curled up in a ball with her head on his lap. Grant’s hand brushed through her short, wavy hair, and her bandaged hand lay propped up on a pillow next to her. Her eyes were half-lidded and glazed. Liza was nowhere to be found.
I moved to kneel in front of her, ignoring Grant’s presence as much as I could. “Hey, sweet girl. How are you? Are the meds keeping the pain away?”
