Page 140 of Really Truly Yours

“Ten years, but—”

My phone rings obnoxiously loudly from my pocket. I’ve left the volume high the last few days so I’d never miss a call or text from Sydnee.

I get it out, mute the ring, and set it on the coffee table. “I’m glad he’s there for a while. Keeps him safe from me.”

Her throat makes a sound. “Right, but, the thing is—”

The phone goes off again, vibrating and dancing, making a racket against the glass surface. Donny’s number flashes onto the screen.

“You should answer that.”

“Nope.”

“Go ahead, Gray. It could be important.”

I do, but it isn’t. He’s only checking to see that Sydnee arrived safely. Mostly, I suspect he’s bored. I put the phone to her ear to say a quick hello, then promise to talk to him later this evening.

I take her hands back into mine. “Now. You were saying?”

“No. I’m done.”

“I thought you were going to say something else.”

She shakes her head. “Nope. That was all.”

I don’t buy it, but I do know I push too much sometimes. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.

I pull her into my arms. I don’t care about her messed up family. Not the prison, not the drugs. Her story is God’s kind reminder of the grace He’s bestowed on me—and of all the blessings I want to pass along to someone who deserves better. More. I turn Sydnee to me and bracket her face in my palms. “I am so happy you made it through and that you’re alright now. And I want you to know with every fiber of your being that you’re safe. I’ll do anything and everything to make sure you are, from this day forward.”

Rapid-fire blinks strobe her pretty gaze. I know I’m talking crazy-bold, but when you know, you know.

Her lashes sweep down and rise up, like the sealing of a decision. “Your support means everything to me, Gray.”

Chapter 31

Sydnee

One fantasyland has outdone the one before it.

More like upgraded.

Gray’s condo was unreal. Now, I’m staring down the backside of a sprawling, towering home that puts Tripp and Avery’s two-storied, three-car-garaged, still-new-smelling house to shame. Even more ridiculously, this one has a beach beside it, lapping, frothing waves and all.

Technically, it isn’t private, I’m told, although, for the moment, the sandy stretch is all ours.

Pants rolled up, I dig my toes into the gritty wetness. At Gray’s behest, I left my shoes on the stone patio before hiking alongside him through the seagrass, across a strip of dry sand, over a narrow plank bridge.

The sun will soon tuck itself in for the night. Right now, its orange rays stripe the water. Freighters line the horizon, like children’s toys left floating in the bathwater.

I hate to ruin the beautiful scene, but something Tripp’s mother said before we walked out here requires attention. I fold my arms and hike my chin. “You never told me your parents were coming.”

He has the decency to look chagrined, as well he should. “It wasn’t definite until last night, and I completely forgot to mention it earlier.”

I’ve been on the receiving end of many lies in my day, mostly from the men in my life, go figure. I bore my gaze into Gray’s and determine he’s telling me true.

Flinging my gaze across the ocean, a brand new sight for this pair of eyes, I groan. Navigating introductions and afternoon coffee with Tripp’s parents, Jim and Barbara Walker, was intense enough, but in the course of that fun event, I learned that the parents who shaped Grayson Smith are also on their way.

Gray cradles my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Sydnee. It slipped my mind. But honestly, I am so excited to introduce you to them.” His warm hands slide down my arms, shivering my skin, looping themselves around mine. “My parents are going to love you.”

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