Belle’s nose twitched, and she rubbed it, brushing something soft nearby. Laughter echoed around her, and she winced when she sat up too fast and her head throbbed.

“Damn, how much wine did we drink last night?” she mumbled, squinting against the brightness of the morning.

“Why don’t you tell us, Sleeping Beauty?” Carrie called out. “And it looks like someone left you a present.” She glanced to Belle’s pillow before turning back to the kitchen. The sound of bacon frying reached Belle’s ears, and her stomach rumbled.

She glanced at her pillow first and stared, confused, at the red rose lying there, tied with a red ribbon. She picked it up and twirled it, smiling as it caught the light. “Greyson,” she whispered. That man continued to amaze her as much as infuriate her. “When did he get in last night?” she asked as she groaned, finding her feet, and staggered into the kitchen. “And how are you all so chipper?”

“You drank the most,” Mel reminded her. Carrie walked behind her and ran her hand over her shoulder before kissing her cheek.

Belle grinned and hopped up on the counter. “Looks like I’m not the only one with the love bug.”

Carrie laughed, and Mel shrugged as she cooked the bacon. “It’s in the air, I guess.”

“Must be,” she agreed, staring at her rose. “Is he awake yet?”

“Nah, but I’d let him sleep. He’s grumpy if he wakes up too early after a night of drinking,” Molly told her. “We’ll get him up before we head out in an hour.”

Belle pouted. “You have to leave so soon?”

“Mom’s expecting us sometime today,” Mel told her. “We have plans later.”

“Oh, right, of course you do,” she said and tried not to sound saddened by it. She’d enjoyed their girl talk, and it’d been nice to get her worries off her chest, though their advice wasn’t all that complicated. By the end of the night, all three girls told Belle just to go for it—what was the worst that could happen?

Molly hopped up on the counter beside her and threw her arm over Belle’s shoulder. “We’re just a phone call away, but you got this. We gave you plenty of help in that department.”

Belle’s mind flashed to her sexy reflection in the mirror. “Yeah, I guess you did. Now, I just have to get up the nerve to use it.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Mel sympathized. “Alright, ladies, breakfast is ready.”

They carried coffee and plates of bacon, eggs, and hash-browns to the table and sat down to eat. Just like the night before, the conversation flowed easily, and before long, Mel and Molly were heading to the bedroom to get dressed. Greyson walked out of his room, rubbing a weary hand over his face, and greeted them halfheartedly.

“Morning,” he said through a yawn to Belle and Carrie.

Carrie smiled and excused herself, leaving Belle alone with Greyson. He poured himself a cup of coffee and breathed it in, turning to face Belle. She fiddled with the rose on the table, and his lips twitched in a grin.

“Thanks for the rose,” she said shyly.

“You’re welcome. Sorry I forgot Valentine’s Day. I'm not used to having anyone around,” he said quietly.

“And now?” she asked.

“Now what?”

“Are you used to having someone around?” she asked and held her breath.

He set his coffee down, and she wished he was shirtless like yesterday morning as he stalked across the kitchen towards her. He bent and nuzzled her neck until goosebumps broke out on her arms, his lips kissing her sweetly.

“I’m getting used to it,” he whispered, and she turned her head so her lips could meet his, but the kiss was brief because the three girls came back out, talking loudly. He groaned and pulled away, leaving Belle wanting to drag him back down, but not in front of his sisters.

“We have to get to Mom’s,” Mel told him and set her duffel by the door.

“You’re just going to leave this mess?” he muttered, staring pointedly at the living room.

Mel nodded enthusiastically, but Molly was already moving with Carrie to clean it up. Belle hopped up to help, and before long, the living room was back to normal.

“See? Perfect,” Molly said as she patted him on the cheek. “Oh, and by the way, Mom wanted us to ask you to come to Dad’s gravesite with us.”

Greyson’s face turned to stone. “What?”

“You heard me, so don’t act like you didn’t,” Molly told him. “You know you should go, if not for him then at least for her. Just come with us, please?”

Belle glanced between the twins and Greyson, the tension so thick she feared she wouldn’t be able to walk through it.

“I’m not going. I already talked to Mom about this, so I’m not discussing it with you two.”

“Come on, you can’t still hold a grudge after all this time?” Mel asked, exasperated. “It won’t be that bad. We’ll go and sit there for a while, Mom will cry and get mad at him like she does every year; she’ll insist we talk about our lives, and we’ll pour whiskey on his grave and leave. Simple.”

Greyson crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “No. I said no, and I’m going to keep saying no, so just let it go.”

Belle’s hands twitched at her sides. She knew that it was a family matter and that she should keep her mouth shut, but the fact that she didn’t have graves to visit for her parents—if they were dead—drove her mouth to open. “Greyson, maybe you should listen to them.”

His heated gaze turned to her, and the temperature plummeted in the room. “What?”

“I think you should go with them,” she said louder and planted her feet. “There’s no reason not to. Just do it for your Mom. What will it hurt, honestly?”

“You don’t know what that man did,” Greyson snapped. “He doesn’t deserve a minute of my time, dead or not. And I sure as hell am not going to pay my respects to him. Not now, not ever, so stop insisting on something you don’t understand.”

Belle’s anger grew, and she glowered at him. “I don’t understand? What don’t I understand? He’s your dad. Just go and see his damn grave and stop running scared from a dead guy!”

Molly, Mel, and Carrie all stood in silence, watching, but Belle hardly noticed them.

Greyson’s arms fell to his sides, and he moved closer. “I’m not running scared,” he growled. “I’m not scared of anything, least of all that bastard.”

“Not scared of anything, that’s rich,” she bit off sharply. “If you’re not scared, then why won’t you go? Why do you keep hiding and making excuses?”

He lifted his hands, clenched them towards her as he growled in annoyance, and turned away. “Just let it go, Belle.”

“No, I won’t. Your sisters want you to go, your mom wants you to go, so just do it!”

“You don’t understand because you’ve never had a damn family!” he yelled as he turned back around, stomping over until he was right in her face. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a parent not care about you and treat you like shit for years! You don’t understand any of that because you never had parents!”

Mel and Molly both snapped at him, and Carrie gasped, rushing to stand by Belle, but she held up her hand, her eyes on Greyson’s as she sucked in a deep breath. Her hand curled into a fist and before she could manage to count to ten, she hauled it back and decked him.

The twins gasped as Greyson’s head shot to the side, but his feet didn’t move. When his head turned back around, his eyes warred between anger, worry, and sheer panic.

“You bastard,” she hissed. “You’re right, I don’t have a family and I certainly don’t know what it feels like to be thrown out like trash by your parents.”

He lifted a hand and rubbed his jaw. “I thought you said you never tried to find them.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she angrily brushed them away before they could fall. “I found out that they dumped me at the local church, like a donation, when I was born, so no, I never looked for them. What’s the point when you’re not wanted? But I guess you’d know more about that than me.”

She turned on her heel and told Carrie she was catching a ride back to campus with her. Molly and Mel muttered to Greyson, but he threw his hands up and stormed off to his office, slamming the door behind him. Within twenty minutes, Belle was packed and ready to go. Mel and Molly helped load everything into Carrie’s car, and Belle walked out of Greyson’s house, carrying the rose he left on her pillow, wondering if she’d be back.

* * *

For days, Greyson puttered around his house a wreck, staring blankly at Belle’s favorite places to sit and work, read, even take naps when the pain meds got to her in the early days. He’d run his hand across the couch and picture her there, smiling when she saw him walk in. The bruise on his jaw faded, but he wished it hadn’t.

She was right. Everything she’d told him was right, and he’d been a jackass. All she wanted was to help him get over his past with his dad and what did he do? Rub it in her face that she was an orphan because her parents chose to leave her.

He didn’t text her the first day, but every day since, he'd picked up his cell first thing in the morning and called her, leaving her voicemails filled with apologies and texts begging her to forgive him. He even said she could deck him again if it would make her feel better, but there was no response. Every morning, though, after he tried, he’d check his e-mails and find them already answered for the day, his schedule taken care of, and his online inbox filled with forms needing to be signed. Even pissed at him, she still took care of him.

“I don’t deserve her,” he muttered Wednesday night when there was still no response. He ordered a bouquet of roses to be sent to her dorm room, hoping she’d at least give him a chance to talk it over. All day, he waited to hear from her, but nothing.

He fetched a bottle of whiskey from the cellar and opened it, ready to drink away his idiocy and hope yet again that their fight hadn’t actually happened. When he sat down behind his desk, there were three texts from Belle. He fumbled with his cell, dropping it in his hurry to check them, and smiled at the first picture. She’d gone to the doctor’s office that morning, and her cast was gone. The break wasn’t as bad as they’d anticipated, and she was good to go. The second said by Monday, she’d be back at the office to work, and the third was a picture of her with the roses he'd sent.

His cell beeped, and an alert for a voicemail popped up. He played it, leaning back in his chair to listen to the one voice he could never get enough of. “I know you’re going to want to call me the second you hear this, but please don’t. I'm not going to lie, I'm still pissed at you, but I understand why you said what you did. I know you’re sorry and I forgive you, though punching you again did cross my mind.” He smirked and rubbed the spot on his jaw. “I know this has been rough for us both and it’s new for me, at least, and maybe even weird for you, but when I start work Monday, I want us to move past what happened last week. Maybe we can pick up where we left off. Or start with dinner… I don’t know, and I’m rambling, so thanks for the roses, I love them, and I’ll see you Monday.”

The message ended, and he set down his cell. She said not to call, but his thumb hovered over the redial button for five minutes before he reluctantly set his cell on his desk. He took the bottle of whiskey and walked out of his office to avoid further temptation. Monday. He couldn’t see her or talk to her until Monday. Until then, he would think of all the ways he’d make it up to her when she returned to the office and hope she let him spoil her without a fight.