Page 146 of Wanted By a King

I’m overwhelmed by the intensity in his words and gaze. It makes me think that maybe we can have a real future together, be a real couple. Hell, maybe I can even love him one day. Not yet, though. Despite finally understanding him and coming to terms with everything, I still need time to fully digest it by myself.

For now, I want to remain in this bubble for as long as I can, and since he hasn’t moved, I think Gray feels the same way.

“I have one last thing I need to tell you,” he says.

The reluctancy in his tone piques my interest, and when he gets out of bed, I sit up, not bothering to wrap the sheet around me. Instead, I watch as he reaches for his pants, pulling his phone and a piece of paper from the pocket.

“This is yours,” he says.

I automatically reach for the folded paper. My hands shake as I unfold it, and judging by the way he warily eyes me, it’s nothing good.

“Oh my God!” I squeal.

This is… I can’t quite fucking believe it. This is the letter from my mom, the one Gray claimed to have destroyed.

“I’m so sorry, Princess. I should never have taken it from you, and I definitely shouldn’t have lied,” he says dejectedly.

“So why did you?” I volley.

This gets me a smile. “Remember what I said about honesty? Are you sure you want to know?”

I nod.

“I wanted to hurt you, Princess. Your dad had just screwed us over, and I was pretty sure you were part of it. Plus, I was pissed that you acted like I was beneath you when I’d just saved your life.”

Well… I wanted honesty, and this proves Gray is a man of his word.

“So why are you giving it to me now?” I ask.

Licking his lips, Gray wraps his hand around my throat again, using his hold to move me forward until our lips are only a breath apart. “Because it’s yours.”

Grayson

Leavingourlittleoasisis fucking hard, but there’s work to do, and I need to swing by Old Man Wilson’s on the way back to the club, and hopefully charm him into letting us use the private roads on his land to transport our runs over the mountains.

Reluctantly getting back into the beat-up truck, I drive us southeast, taking the back windy roads through the mountain district.

I left my cut off today, so we look more like civilians so when we arrive at Old Man Wilson’s property, we don’t get shot on sight.

Zoe is humming away to the song on the radio, something I’ve never fucking heard, but I can’t say I hate it. It’s nice having her next to me in the truck, her creamy thighs teasing me from under the skirt she’s wearing.

Fucking hell. I just know I’m going to need to pull off the road somewhere and make her ride my cock before we even make it back to the clubhouse later. Just the thought has my dick hard.

Not far from the dirt road turnoff to Wilson’s territory, I pull over, parking the truck at the side of a small market deli for a bathroom break and a bite to eat. I’ve been here before, and they make great burgers.

Zoe’s eyes widen in surprise when I round the car and open her door for her. She was just about to open it and get out, but I grin, holding it open and gesturing for her to climb down.

“Who are you and what have you done with Grayson Black?” She smirks and I shrug.

“I can be nice, Princess. It’s rare, but it happens.”

She giggles, and I tug her close to my side, smiling when she sinks into me. Her sweet scent wraps around me and it instantly relaxes me. It’s the best fucking drug.

We grab food first, sitting in one of the three booths by the window, and I listen attentively as Zoe chats away about the time her family went on a road trip over the mountains to San Jose. Apparently, they didn’t know that Leslie suffered from motion sickness on windy roads, and they had to stop halfway when she couldn’t hold her stomach anymore. They never did make it to San Jose. They turned around and drove back home, and Astrid vowed that they’d take a plane or drive the long way around next time.

It’s nice listening to Zoe talk. When she speaks of her memories like this, there’s a light about her. Happiness.

“So I was hoping to talk to you about something?” she asks as we finish eating, and I raise a brow and wait for her to continue. “I have some questions about the night my mom and Leslie were killed.”

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