Delaney James seems to have it all-a successful husband, a stylish Manhattan townhouse, and a thriving career in fashion journalism-until it all falls apart. Her husband leaves her, shattering the perfect life she once knew. Heartbroken and desperat...
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Along with Adelaide occupying my time while she was in South Grove for two days, Greyson has been busy all week on a big job, so I've barely seen him, and on the nights I planned on sleeping over, he passed out soon after he got home. One night I surprised him with dinner, but when he didn't come to the kitchen after I announced it was ready, I went out to the living room and found him asleep on the couch. He took over much of the company when his father got sick, but Mr. McKinnie was still able to do payroll and most of the paperwork. When he got sicker, Greyson was then responsible for everything, and between early mornings and long hours on job sites, staying up late doing paperwork and making sure payroll is ready, along with everything else he's going through, he's exhausted.
We're all so proud of the way he's stepped up, but sometimes I wish he'd stop taking on everyone's responsibilities and admit that he needs help.
It's a mid-afternoon game, so the guys won't be here until later tonight. I get in a workout, make and post a couple videos, and upload one of my best blog posts yet, and when Greyson calls around five-thirty to tell me the game ended on time and his friends have boarded their plane, I hop in the shower and begin to get ready. I decide to go with something simple. I choose a loose, white, sleeveless tank – satisfied at the way it contrasts against my golden skin – distressed skinny jeans and a pair of pale-pink patent leather pumps. I apply some light make-up, curl my freshly high-lighted hair, and finish the look with small, diamond stud earrings, a simple bracelet and the rose gold ring Greyson gave me.
The flight from Atlanta to Wilmington International Airport is only an hour and fifteen minutes, but they have to get settled into their hotel before they meet us at Jenkins. Greyson assured me he'd pick me up promptly at eight o'clock, so when the front door opens and I hear someone whistling as they make their way through the house, I don't get concerned and question who it could be.
I'm leaning over the kitchen counter reading the latest issue of Vogue while my mother is cleaning out the pantry - mumbling to herself about my father's obsession with canned tuna – when I feel both of his hands slap my ass, palming both cheeks.
"You look so fucking hot," he says, low and slow in my ear. He grabs me by the shoulders and turns me around, pressing himself against me and sandwiching me between him and the counter. "I can't wait to take you home and get you nake –"
"Well, hello Greyson! So good to see you." My mother pops out of the pantry and smiles knowingly. "I just thought you should know I'm here before you finish that thought."
He releases my shoulders and pushes me away from him. "Geez, Delaney. I know I'm irresistible, but can you at least try and keep your hands to yourself until we're in the car? Your mom's right here," he teases.
I roll my eyes and turn back to my magazine.
"Did you set up some time for me to meet your friends?" my mother asks.
He grimaces. "I don't think they'll have enough time to come and meet you. They're already at the bar and they have to catch a flight back to Chicago early tomorrow morning. I did get them to sign a few balls for you though."
