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“Yes, Mr. Thorne.” Tyler’s face cleared ofemotion.
Now the question this morning was breakfast. Blaire usually did the cooking. Grant could manage basic breakfast items like eggs and bacon. Waffles and pancakes from a box. Cereal and milk. He cringed. His housekeeper, who did most of the cooking, came in only on weekdays. She used to come in on Saturdays but, since Blaire moved in, Grant wanted to laze around in bed and all over the house with his woman and didn’t want to chance his housekeeper walking in on them. As he contemplated the cereal choices, he heard Tyler’s radiocrackle.
“The vehicles of Mr. Thorne’s mother and sister are clearing thegates.”
Grant groaned inwardly, not ready for company at six-thirty in the morning. He prepared for the inevitable, noting how he looked in the mirror this morning which was actually worse than how he wasfeeling.
“Where is he?” He heard his mother’s panicked voice before he saw her march into the foyer withValerie.
Amelia Thorne slapped a hand over her mouth, uttered a strangled cry that wrenched at his heart, and rushed toward his son. Grant loathed putting that shocked, anguished expression on his mother’sface.
“How did this happen, Grant?” his motherdemanded.
“The traffic was bad in front of the Hyatt, so I told Tyler to wait for me at the corner of Main. Two men tried to mugme.”
“I hope the cops are looking for them,” Val said,outraged.
“They’re dead; Tyler shot them,” Grant statedflatly.
The two women gaped inshock.
“Are you … are you in trouble with the police?” Val asked worriedly. “It was self-defense,right?”
Grant nodded. “It was. How did you two findout?”
“A friend called me this morning to ask how you were doing,” his mother said, clearly upset. “She saw you sitting on the steps of an ambulance last night, talking to the police. Imagine my surprise when I didn’t know what she was talking about. She was also at the gala—an affair I forced you to attend in my place.” The last four words were uttered with self-reproach.
Grant hugged his mother. “Hey—none of that now. I’ll be pissed if you take any blame for this.” He looked into her distressed eyes. “Are we clear?” A troubling feeling nagged him and it had everything to do with the “mugging” lie he’d just told. He didn’t expect that covering up for Blaire would indirectly hurt his mother. If he told her the truth, the blame would fall on Blaire. If he didn’t, he was sure his mother would continue to harbor some guilt over whathappened.
“So, Blaire’s not back yet?” Val questioned. “She had to rush off somewhere, right? Changed your vacation plans. That’s why you were able to attend in place ofMom?”
He didn’t like the accusatory tone in his sister’s voice. He knew she didn’t approve of Blaire. Hell, Val didn’t approve of any of his female friends if they weren’t in the required social class in herhead.
“She’s here. Arrived late last night and she’ssleeping.”
Val eyed the row of cereal boxes Grant had pulled out. “So, you survived an attempted mugging, and you’re the one servingher?”
“Val, it’s none of your business,” Amelia censured. If there was one person who could attempt to muzzle his sister, it was his mother. “Grant, did you go to the hospital to have a thorough check-up?”
“No.”
“Shouldn’tyou?”
“Nope.”
“Grant …” He was a thirty-five years old and his mother was mothering. He’d once gotten pissed at her for nagging him like he was still a teenager with braces, but she told him until he got married and had kids, he would neverunderstand.
“Good morning,” a quiet voice spoke from thehallway.
He turned to Blaire, frustrated that he wanted to be alone with her, yet knowing it wasn’t happening soon. Add to that Val’s obvious hostility which wasn’t helping his woman feel comfortable about beinghere.
“Blaire,” his mother walked toward his woman and gave her a hug. “I’m glad you’re back and Grant has someone with him. How’s your aunt? Is she feelingbetter?”
A pained smile flashed across Blaire’s face. “She’s fine now. Thanks forasking.”
“One has to be more careful as we get older,” his mother offered. “It’s easy to lose balance andfall.”
“How old is your aunt?” Val asked. “Maybe it’s better for her to stay in a retirementhome.”
