More Than Anything (Broken Pieces #1)(75)
He scrubbed his hands over his face and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before tugging the pendant out and yanking it up over his head. Two steps between them, but it felt like a thousand miles as he crossed the distance. He dropped the pendant into her waiting hand and gently folded her fingers around it.
He lifted her hand and kissed her closed fist before brushing past her and leaving the room.
Tina’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt a lump form and solidify there, making it painful to swallow. Her fist was clenched around the silver hoop, which still retained his body heat. Why had he kept this? All these years he had been wearing it around his neck, close to his heart. She didn’t understand. Was it a trophy? Somehow she doubted that; maybe she would have thought that before, but those kinds of accusations no longer rang true after the last few days spent in his company. Harris simply wasn’t the cold and callous man she had once believed him to be.
He was caring, considerate, and genuinely interested in her well-being. He had stood up for her against her brother, one of his best friends. She liked spending time with him, and she felt certain that he felt the same way.
Her gaze moved unseeingly around the stark bedroom. He had left the comforts of his lush lifestyle to come to this town and live in this awful house to provide support for his friend as well as keep a concerned eye on the brother who had slighted him so terribly. A callous man would not do that. She unclenched her fingers and stared down at her earring . . . Harris’s pendant. Slightly larger than a woman’s wedding ring, it could no longer function as an earring. Not with the hinge welded shut. The hoop was completely smooth on the outside with only the curlicued MJ on the inside. He had looped a simple leather strap through it. Anyone looking at it would have no idea that it had once been an earring.
She sighed, her heart like lead in her chest, and dropped the pendant on the bedside table.
She exited the room and carefully shut the door behind her.
“What the hell is going on?”
The deep voice made her jump, and she turned to face Greyson, who was seated on the threadbare sofa with a thick book facedown on his chest.
“Oh my God!” Tina squeaked, her hand fluttering to her chest. “How long have you been sitting there?”
“If you’re wondering whether I heard you and my brother having sex, the answer is . . . kind of. The argument that followed was a lot louder, hence unmissable. Then he storms out of here and drives off without a word. Like I asked before, what the hell?”
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop.”
“I live here. If you want privacy, move your liaisons next door . . . although that’s not much better. The walls are paper thin.”
Tina peered at the book on his chest, and her eyebrows flew to her hairline when she recognized it for what it was.
“That’s a baby book,” she pointed out.
“I know,” he responded drily.
“Why do you have it?”
“Because I’d rather not continue being a shitty father.”
Not sure how to respond to that, Tina stared at him for a moment before slumping, not in the mood to spar with Greyson.
“I have to go. Tell Harris . . .” She paused. There really was nothing to say, and she shrugged helplessly.
“Martine, for what it’s worth . . . ,” Greyson began, and she lifted her eyes to meet his solemn gaze. “My brother would never intentionally do anything to hurt you. Not ten years ago and not now. That ridiculous bet was so out of character that it makes me question the circumstances surrounding it.”
“You knew about the bet?” she asked miserably, fresh humiliation washing over her, nearly crushing her beneath its weight.
“Only after the fact. Jonah Spade spoke of it to me precisely once, and to my knowledge he has never, and will never, speak of it again.” Greyson looked so threatening in that moment that Tina actually gulped. “He was also ostracized from our group immediately after that.”
“Does Smith know?” she asked, terrified of what the answer would be, and when she looked up, she was shocked to find a look of tenderness in Greyson’s usually enigmatic gaze.
“Of course he doesn’t, Tina.” It was the first time ever that she had heard him use the shortened version of her name. His voice warm and so compassionate she had a hard time keeping her tears at bay. “I can guarantee Jonah Spade and his cohorts would all have been permanently injured if Smith ever got wind of it. And, quite frankly, even though Harris sometimes annoys the hell out of me, he’s still my brother, and I dread to think what Smith would have done to Harris if he ever found out. It was selfish of me, but that’s one of the reasons I quashed any and all potential rumors.”
Even at twenty, Greyson Chapman had been a formidably resourceful man. He had only gotten more dangerous over the years. Which was why it was so bizarre to see him still clutching that baby book to his chest.
Before she could think about it too closely, Tina crossed the living room and bent down to drop a kiss on Greyson’s cheek. He looked completely disconcerted by the unsolicited show of affection and blinked at her in shock before flushing like a schoolboy.
“Thank you, Greyson,” she said and left before he could utter another word.
Chapter Twelve
He should go home. Harris had lost count of how often that thought had crossed his mind over the course of the week. Now it was Saturday, and he was standing in the middle of a sports field, freezing his balls off because he’d been dumb enough to allow Spencer Carlisle of Carlisle Sporting Solutions to kit him out in football gear for the big match. Oldies versus young’uns, or something like that. A group of thirtysomethings playing a group of teens from the youth-outreach program, all in the name of charity.