Page 49 of The Hawthorne Legacy
“I know,” I repeated. “Grayson forgot to hang up the phone last night. I didn’t hear everything, but I got the gist. The last thing I heard was that Toby had purchased accelerant. Then the phone went dead. I tried to call you both. Repeatedly. But nobody answered.”
Jameson didn’t say anything for a full four or five seconds. I wasn’t sure he was going to reply to what I’d just said at all.
“The bastard made it clear that he wants nothing to do with Gray. He said that Colin was the closest thing he’ll ever have to a son.” Jameson swallowed, and even though his eyes were still masked by the sunglasses, I could feel the way those words had affected him.
I didn’t want to think about the impact they might have had on Grayson.
“For once, Skye wasn’t lying.” Jameson’s voice was low. “Grayson’s father has always known about him.”
I was used to Jameson flirting and rattling off riddles, balancing precariously on the edges of rooftops and throwing caution to the wind. He didn’t let things matter. He didn’t let them hurt.
If I took off those sunglasses, what would I see?
I stepped toward him. The door to the balcony opened. Alisa looked at me, looked at Jameson, looked at the foot of space between us, and then gave me a pointed smile. “Ready to hit the slopes?”
No. I couldn’t say that. I couldn’t tip my hand that the reason we were here had nothing to do with wanting a winter getaway. Whatever our plan for searching the rest of the house, we had to be subtle.
“I…” I searched for an appropriate response. “I don’t know how to ski.”
Grayson appeared in the doorway behind Alisa. “I’ll teach you.”
Jameson stared at him. So did I.
CHAPTER 42
That True North was “ski in/ski out” meant we had direct access to the slopes. All you had to do was step out the back door, pop on your skis, and go.
“There’s an easy trail here,” Grayson told me after he’d showed me the basics. “If we take it long enough, we’ll hit the busier ski areas on the mountain.”
I glanced back at Oren and one of his men—not Eli. This man was older. Oren had called him the team’s arctic specialist. Because every Texas billionaire needed an arctic specialist on their security team.
I wobbled on my skis. Grayson reached out to steady me. For a moment, we stood there, his body bracing mine. Then, slowly, he stepped back and took my hands, pulling me forward on the very slight incline near the house, skiing backward as he did.
“Show me your stop,” he said. Always issuing orders. But I didn’t complain. I turned my toes inward and managed to stop without falling… barely.
“Good.” Grayson Hawthorne actually smiled—and then he caught himself smiling, like it was forbidden for his lips to do that in my vicinity.
“You don’t have to do this,” I told him, lowering my voice to avoid being overheard. “You don’t have to teach me anything. We can tell Alisa I chickened out. I’m not here to ski.”
Grayson gave me a look—a know-it-all, never-wrong, do-not-question-me kind of look. “No one is going to believe you chickened out of anything,” he said.
From the way he’d phrased that, you would have thought I was fearless.
It took me all of five minutes to lose a ski. The trail was still relatively private. Other than my bodyguards, it was like Grayson and I were alone on the mountain. He zipped to retrieve my ski with the ease of someone who’d been skiing from the time he could walk. Returning to my side, he dropped the ski in the snow, then took my elbows in his hands.
This afternoon was the most he’d touched me—ever.
Refusing to let that mean anything, I popped the ski back on and repeated what I’d told him earlier. “You don’t have to do this.”
He let go of my arms. “You were right.” That had to be a first: Grayson Hawthorne admitting someone else was right about anything. “You said that I’ve been avoiding you, and I have. I promised I’d teach you what you need to know to live this life.”
“Like skiing?” I could see myself in the reflection of his ski goggles, but I couldn’t see his eyes.
“Like skiing,” Grayson said. “To start.”
We made it to the bottom, and Grayson taught me how to get on a ski lift. Oren went on the lift in front of us; the other guard on the one behind.
That left me alone with Grayson: two bodies, one lift, our feet dangling as we ascended the mountain. I caught myself sneaking glimpses at him. He’d pulled his goggles down, so I could make out all the lines of his face now. I could see his eyes.
