Reed nods. “I think it’s kind of fascinating. I wouldn’t want to design anything, but the business side of it would be pretty cool to get involved in. I’d probably get a business degree in college.” His features become pained again. “But none of that is even an option. Not if…”
Not if he’s found guilty of killing Brooke.
Not if he goes to jail.
I force myself to banish those thoughts. I want to focus on good things right now. Like how happy I am to be lying here with Reed and how amazing it felt when he was inside me. So I climb on top of him and end the conversation by planting my lips on his.
“Round two?” he teases against my mouth.
“Round two,” I confirm.
And off we go.
22
Reed
“You look like you’re in a good mood,” Easton notes on Sunday morning.
I join him out on the terrace. “Smoothie?” I ask, tipping the extra bottle in his direction. At his nod, I toss it to him. “Can’t complain.”
I try but fail to keep from smiling, and the way my brother’s eyes roll to the back of his head tells me he can read the satisfaction all over my face. But I don’t give a rat’s ass, because between the murder charge and Steve’s striving for a Father of the Year award, things have been tense between Ella and me. After this weekend, we’re back on track. Nothing’s going to ruin my good mood today.
If Steve asks, I respected the hell out of his daughter. Three times.
“Nice sweatshirt, though,” I tell East. “What trash bin did you fish that out of?”
He pulls the ratty thing away from his chest. “I wore this crabbing three summers ago.”
“Is that the trip where Gideon got his balls bitten?” The summer before Mom died, we went to the Outer Banks as a family and fished for crabs.
Easton lets out a roar of laughter. “Oh shit, I forgot that happened. He walked around with a hand in front of his crotch for a month.”
“How’d that happen anyway?” I still can’t figure out how the crab jumped from the bucket to land in Gid’s lap, but his scream of pain made every seagull within a hundred yards fly off in terror.
“Dunno. Maybe Sav knows some magic voodoo and stuck him.” East holds his stomach with one hand and wipes tears away from his face with the other.
“They were just starting to go out then.”
“He was always an ass to her.”
“True.” Gid and Sav never made much sense, and it flamed out in a spectacular way. Can’t blame the girl for being bitchy toward us.
“So Wade and Val getting it on again?” East asks curiously.
“Well, you ended up having to get your own room on Friday night, so you tell me.”
“I think they are.”
“Why do you care? Did you want a shot at her?”
He shakes his head. “Naah. I got my eye on some other chick.”
“Yeah?” This surprises me, since Easton’s never settled down. He seems like he wants to tap every ass in Astor. “Who is it?”
He shrugs, pretending to be absorbed with his smoothie.
“Not even gonna give me a clue?”
“I’m still debating what my options are.”
His uncharacteristic reserve piques my interest. “You’re Easton Royal. You have all the options.”
“Shockingly enough, there are some people who don’t subscribe to that theory. They’re wrong, of course, but what can you do?” He grins and then chugs the rest of his drink.
“I’ll sic Ella on you. You can’t hold out against her.”
He snorts. “Neither can you.”
“Who’d want to?”
Whatever comeback he was going to make is halted by Dad’s appearance at the door.
“Hey, Dad.” I raise my drink. “We’re having breakfast…” My happy greeting trails off as I take in his somber expression. “What’s up?”
“Halston is here and he needs to see you. Now.”
Shit. On Sunday morning?
I don’t spare a look at East, who’s likely frowning. I slide my stone face into place and walk through the space my dad makes for me.
“What’s this is all about?”
I’d rather know what I’m going to be confronting, but Dad just shakes his head. “I don’t know. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”
Meaning Grier wouldn’t tell him. Awesome.
Inside the study, Grier’s already seated on the couch. A stack of papers about two inches high sits in front of him.
“Hello, son,” he says.
It’s Sunday and he’s not at church. That’s my first warning. Everyone but the worst kind of people go to church down here. When Mom was alive, we went like clockwork. After we buried her, Dad never made us go again. What was the point? God hadn’t saved the only worthy Royal, so there wasn’t much hope the rest of us were getting past the pearly gates.