“About Cruz?”
I nodded.
“He’s not happy,” she said with a small shrug. “But you’re a grown woman. What can he do? It was your decision to make.”
I agreed, but I didn’t think Daddy would agree.
“He won’t bring it up in there. For now, this is about Kiro and Emily.”
“Who all is here?”
“Right now, it’s just Dean and us. Nan, Cope, Mase, Reese, Rush and Blaire are all on their way.”
Mom looked at the backpack on my shoulder. “What happened to your luggage?”
“I left it all at Nate’s.”
She sighed. “To run off on Cruz Kerrington’s bike.”
“Yes.”
She didn’t say more. I hadn’t even been gone a week, and everything that had happened made it seem like it had been so much longer.
“Can I say one thing?” Mom asked.
“Of course.”
She reached out and touched my cheek. “You are kind, loving, generous, patient, and beautiful. You deserve something special.”
“Mom, you got a fairytale. Not everyone finds those.”
She titled her head to the side and smiled. “No, Lila Kate. Not everyone is patient enough to wait for it.”
She kissed my cheek then took my arm, and we walked up the stairs and into the house. I would ponder what she said later. Maybe she was right. Maybe it wasn’t that I wouldn’t get a fairytale. Just that I had wanted it from the wrong person.
The house smelled like cigars. It had all my life. I’d heard Rush once say it was better than the marijuana smell it had in his youth. We walked through the large entrance down the left hall where what Kiro called the game room was located. Large black leather sofas, massive flat screens—as in three of them—a pool table and a large bar were in the room. Sitting on the corner of the sofa was my grandfather, Kiro Manning. He was older now, but he was still a legend. His name was well known. He had a cigar in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. His slender frame was tall, and he was covered in tattoos. Even retired and a grandfather he still resembled a rocker.
He lifted his red-rimmed eyes as we entered and smiled at the sight of me. He’d been crying at some point. “My Lila Kate,” he said his voice raspy from years of drugs, smoking and alcohol.
“Hey,” I said as I made my way over to him. It was no secret he’d been furious when my father got my mother pregnant. My mother wasn’t his only child but she was his favorite. Because she had been the child Emily gave him. My birth could have killed my mother. That had terrified him. But my mom often said he’d spent my lifetime making that up to me. I knew he loved me more than his other grandchildren. He was very blunt about it. But I also knew it was only because I was a part of Emily.
He held open his arms still holding the alcohol and cigar. I bent down and hugged him tightly. “I love you,” I whispered.
“Not as much as I love you, pretty girl,” which had always been his response. “Heard you took off on a bike with a Kerrington. Guess you got a little of your Granddaddy’s wild oats in you after all.”
I tensed hoping my dad hadn’t heard him. “Um, I guess,” I said as quietly as I could.
That made him laugh. I was glad he could laugh but this wasn’t something to laugh about. “Gonna give that daddy of yours a little hard time. He needs it.”
Of all the things for him to want to talk about this wasn’t one of them.
“Daddy be nice. She’s already nervous about talking to Grant about all this,” Mom interjected.
I closed my eyes and winced. When I stood up Kiro winked at me. “You’re grown girl. It’s okay.”
I turned my head slowly to look at my dad who was standing at the bar with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face. “She’s better than Cruz Kerrington,” my dad said.
“And my Harlow was better than Grant Carter. My sweet baby girl was swept off her feet by someone who had a reputation as a player. Seems it turned out all right,” Kiro said before taking a pull off his cigar.
Dad only grunted.
I tried thinking of something to change the subject when footsteps sounded down the hall. Then I heard the voices. Kiro’s other two kids were here with their spouses. I knew my Uncle Mase’s voice anywhere. And when he is arguing with my Aunt Nan it feels like a family gathering.
“I’m not taking the blue room, Mase. Shove it up your ass. I want the gold one near the back elevator. I always prefer that one. Don’t argue with me,” Aunt Nan said in her high-pitched annoyed tone.
“Give me another fucking bottle. I’m gonna need it,” Kiro grumbled.
He and my Aunt Nan didn’t have the best relationship, but Mom said it was good compared to the way it had once been.
When the four entered the room. Kiro held up his bottle. “I’m fucking mourning. Don’t start this shit in here.”
Nan looked ashamed, and Mase nodded. “Sorry. I was just getting her riled up out of boredom.”
Kiro lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Understood.”
“I’m so sorry, Kiro,” Reese, my Uncle Mase’s wife said as she walked away from the others toward Kiro. “You go ahead and mourn, and I’ll keep these two in check.”
“Still ain’t figured out how the fuck you scored that one,” Kiro said pointing with his bottle toward Reese while looking at Mase.
“Me neither,” Mase replied then sank down on the sofa across from Kiro. “Pass the whiskey.”
Cruz Kerrington
THE SMELL OF flowers. I hated the overpowering smell as much as I hated funerals. They depressed me. I shouldn’t have to be here. I didn’t know Emily Manning. Sure, I knew Lila Kate but I wouldn’t expect her to come to my grandmother’s funeral. Hell, I wouldn’t go if I could get away with it. Once someone was dead it as done. Why have a big ass depressing funeral?
I wanted my ashes taken out a few miles into the Gulf and scattered. No songs, no flowers, and no fucking tears. I loosened the collar on my shirt some and sighed. My dad had been adamant that I was going. We all were. The whole damn family was here. As was every other family in Rosemary Beach that we were close to.
“We are going for Grant, Harlow and Lila Kate!” my dad had roared when I bitched about not seeing a reason to attend this funeral.
The truth was, I had tried to get Lila out of my head for the past three days and it wasn’t working. All I could see was Lila. When I’d had another girl pressed up against the wall of my condo last night, I’d had Lila Kate’s face in my head. I didn’t want to see her this soon. I was still working her out of my system. I even pointed out to my father that they may be having a funeral for me once Grant Carter got his hands on me. Dad had told me I’d asked for it.
“There’s Nate,” my mother whispered. “Go apologize.”
“For what?” I asked confused. I hadn’t done shit to Nate.
She grabbed my arm like I was still eight years old. “For taking Lila Kate without a word. That’s what for.”
I wasn’t apologizing to him for that. “No.”
Her nails bit into my skin. “Now.”
I wasn’t apologizing, but I’d walk over there and say something to him to let her think I did before she grabbed me by my ear and hauled me to him.
“Fine,” I muttered and her hand released me as soon as I headed in his direction.
Apologize to Nate. Seriously? Did they even know Nate Finlay? As if this wasn’t something he would have done. Jesus. They were all being dramatic as hell. I didn’t kidnap her. She went willingly.
Nate was also dressed in a suit, and Bliss stood beside him looking stunning in a black dress with her hair pulled up off her shoulders. “Hey,” I said as they turned to see me approaching.
Nate did a lift of his chin.
“You seen Lila Kate?” I asked.
“Yeah. Why? You got your bike with you?” Nate smirked as he said it.
“No, smartass. I just don’t see her.”
“She’s gone to get a drink. Been talking to everyone and her mouth got dry.”