Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
No change. No clause. No marriage requirement.
His father had lied. Manipulated them. Played them like chess pieces right up until the end.
“Greyson?” Clayton’s voice seemed to come from very far away. “Are you all right?”
He managed a nod, though his knees felt suspiciously unsteady. “Yes. I’m... that’s good news. Thank you for clarifying.”
Clayton studied him with sharp eyes, clearly sensing there was more to this story. But he was too professional to pry. Instead, he clapped a gentle hand on Greyson’s shoulder and offered a tired smile.
“Merry Christmas, son. Take care of yourself.”
Greyson stood frozen in the doorway long after Clayton’s car disappeared down the drive, his mind reeling with the weight of what he’d just learned. In the distance, he could hear Wren’s laughter drifting from the kitchen, warm and familiar. His brothers’ laughter followed.
In that moment, they won. Not because the inheritance withstood their father’s games, but because they were happy, with or without it. Like their mother, they didn’t need anything as long as they had each other.
He followed the sound of his family, finding them gathered around the granite island, completely unaware that their world had just shifted on its axis.
Again.
Wren smiled and pulled him close. He decided to hold onto this news until Christmas morning—a gift to his brothers. And giving it would be a gift to him.
CHAPTER 33
“Home for Christmas”
One Year Later
Greyson rose from his chair with fluid grace, setting Rat in the warmth of his seat as he crossed to the wet bar to refill his bourbon. But instead of returning to his chair, he moved toward Wren, settling beside her on the sofa with the kind of easy intimacy that still made her pulse quicken. Rat, realizing his daddy wasn’t returning, shortly followed, curling onto her lap as Greyson pulled her close.
“You know what I love about this story?” He set his glass on the side table and reached for her left hand, his thumb tracing the simple platinum band that had replaced his makeshift bootlace ring. “It has a happy ending.”
“Does it?” Soren asked with a knowing smirk. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like it’s just getting started.”
Greyson’s hand moved from Wren’s ring to rest gently on the curve of her belly, where their child grew safe and warm, nestled in a nest of Maine coon fur beneath. The gesture was so natural, so protective, that Wren’s heart swelled with the same overwhelming love that hit her daily—sometimes hourly.
“Any day now,” she murmured, covering his hand with hers. “Can you believe it?”
“Yes, because I always knew this was how it was meant to be, but some days the reality still shocks the hell out of me.”
“Get a room,” Logan grumbled.
Greyson ignored him and kissed Wren’s temple, his voice rough with emotion as he whispered, “You’re going to be an amazing mother. Just like our moms were.”
Logan leaned forward in his chair, expression softening as he watched them. “You know what’s crazy? Last Christmas, we were all convinced we were doomed to be miserable bastards like Dad. And now look at us.”
“Speak for yourself,” Soren said, arrogance wafting from him as usual. “Some of us have always been charming.”
“Right,” Wren laughed, softly stroking Rat’s long fur. “Is that what we’re calling your behavior lately?”
Soren’s ears turned red. “We agreed never to speak of that!”
“Speak of what?” Logan frowned. “What did I miss?”
“You agreed,” Wren said with theatrical innocence. “I never promised anything.”
“What did I ever do to you?”
“The pantry,” Greyson said.
“The parade,” Logan added.
“All right!” Soren snapped. “What are you two, her scorekeepers?”
Wren dissolved into laughter. “I’m protected at all angles. You can’t threaten me.”
Greyson’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “And if you try, I’ll personally send a detailed manifesto of every dirty little secret I know about you to Lady Lovewatch.”
“As if you even know who Lady Lovewatch is.” Soren crossed his arms.
“Wait, I’m still confused,” Logan griped. “What dirty secrets?”
Wren and Greyson shared a knowing look, then sealed their lips shut with an invisible key.
“You both suck. It’s probably dumb anyway. Soren’s life’s boring as hell since he became CEO.”
Wren snickered. Soren’s life hadn’t been boring in a long time.
Outside, snow continued to fall past the windows, transforming the harbor into a winter wonderland. Christmas lights twinkled from the eves as the fire crackled softly and a familiar swell of contentment settled over her.
“You know what I realized?” she said suddenly. “This is the first Christmas in years where none of us are dreading it.”
“Yeah,” Greyson agreed, glancing down at his tacky holiday sweater he picked up in town.
Wren smiled, looking down at her matching one he insisted she wear tonight. “This is exactly how Christmas should be.”
“Peaceful,” Soren said, stretching his legs toward the fire..
“Together,” Logan added.
“With those you love,” Greyson finished, pulling her closer to his side.