Taking a Risk

By Trish Edmisten

Is a chance at love worth taking a risk for?

Fear keeps Grayson Jacobs in the closet. Fear of his family’s reaction at finding out he’s gay. Fear of costing his company business or losing his job. Grayson has just about given up on finding love when Cris Kinkaid comes into his life. Cris is everything Grayson has always wanted in a partner. He’s strong, independent and devoted to his family, but he’s also out. Rather than let his fear keep him from falling in love, Grayson is willing to risk everything to be with Cris, but Cris is keeping a secret of his own; a secret that could destroy both of them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trish Edmisten
• Release date: Jan 28, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311498632

Trish Edmisten

Author of YA and contemporary romance.

Book preview

Prologue

I think I should move out.

Grayson stared at Shayla. The unexpected announcement was ill timed to say the least. They were at his cousin’s wedding reception for God’s sake.

Granted the reception was winding down. They were among the last of the guests still milling around, but that didn’t matter. Nor did it matter that they were the only ones on the balcony. What mattered was this day was supposed to be about his cousin.

Grayson cut his eyes around to make sure they were still alone. Where is this coming from and why are you bringing it up now?

I know the timing is bad, Shayla conceded and Grayson gave her an incredulous stare.

The timing was bad? That was the understatement of the mother fucking century.

I’ve been thinking about it for a while.

Then why spring it on me at my cousin’s wedding reception? That’s kind of shitty, Shay.

I know, but if I don’t tell you now, I might never get the guts to tell you and I’m tired of lying.

Grayson stiffened and did another visual sweep of the balcony. She wanted to talk about this now? The one thing he never talked about with anyone but her and only in the privacy of their home.

Your family has been so great, Shayla said softly.

She twirled the bridal bouquet in her hands, having been the one to come up victorious when Chelsea tossed it to the single ladies in attendance. Grayson had been the one to catch the garter Justin threw, adding more weight to the theory that Grayson and Shayla would be the next to marry.

No doubt everyone assumed they would marry one another. It was a logical assumption given that they’d lived together two of the last five years they had known each other.

They’ve accepted me as part of the family, Shayla said. I can’t hurt them by continuing to pretend I’m something I’m not.

You’d rather hurt me by doing this to me? Here? Now?

I don’t mean to hurt you. You’re one of my best friends, but I can’t be your beard anymore. I deserve to have a real relationship.

For the record, I have never told anyone you were my girlfriend.

You never told them I wasn’t either and you’ve never told them you’re…

The words died off at Grayson’s glare.

You want to move out, I’m not going to stop you, Grayson said. Hell, I’ll even help you pack, but that does not give you the right to make decisions for me.

Tears filmed her eyes and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. If he wasn’t so angry, he would have felt bad for being so harsh.

I’m sorry, Gray. I love you, but I can’t do this anymore.

Fine, you don’t have to. Since you’ve been thinking about this, what was it a while, I assume you have a place to go.

I’m going to move in with Marissa. Her roommate just moved in with her fiancée.

Grayson narrowed his eyes. He should have known her social worker, book club friends were behind this. They never liked him and were always accusing him of using her.

Maybe he did, but he told her the truth going in. Hell, they met at a gay club for God’s sake. Shayla knew he only wanted to be friends and have a woman he could bring to family functions so they wouldn’t question him being single.

Shayla wanted out. She could move out, but he hadn’t kept this secret for as long as he had to come out to his family at his cousin’s wedding reception.

When he turned his back on her, she laid a hand on his arm. I really am sorry, Grayson.

I’m sorry too, Shayla, Grayson said, shaking her off.

Grayson left her standing on the balcony to head back to the dwindling wedding reception and ran straight in to his new cousin in law.

Shit, Chels. Grayson grabbed her shoulders to steady her. Are you all right?

Chelsea gave him a weird look, almost as if she knew something was bothering him. Are you?

Grayson plastered a smile on his face. I’m great.

I’m here if you want to talk, you know. Anything for my new favorite cousin.

His next smile was genuine. And I promise you if there’s ever anything I need to talk about, you will be the first person I come to. Grayson offered his arm to her. Until then, what do you say we get back to the rest of your wedding reception before my cousin thinks you ran out on him?

Chelsea laughed as she threaded her arm through his.

Maybe one day Grayson would tell her the truth. Maybe he would even tell the rest of his family. Today was not that day.

Chapter One

Sunday morning, Grayson woke to the sound of Shayla singing in her room across the hall. He smiled at the familiar sound and then frowned when he recalled their tense conversation at the end of the reception yesterday.

God, he was an asshole. Yes, her timing sucked, but he couldn’t fault her for being honest. Nor did he want to end their friendship. There was history between them, five years of it, and that was something that just didn’t go away.

Grayson could still remember their first meeting at Smoke and Mirrors, one of only two gay clubs in town. Deep in the closet, he was just testing the waters; drinking and dancing and never having the guts to do anything more than watch all the gorgeous guys on display.

Watching everything around him, he’d envied the freedom of the other patrons. He would have given anything to let loose and enjoy the company of another guy. Even one night, hell one dance at that point, would have been enough.

As he’d sat at the bar nursing a beer and pretending he was working up the courage to ask someone to dance, an angry voice caught his attention. It wasn’t that the voice came from a female that made him take notice.

Lots of women went to Smoke and Mirrors. Some were gay and went with their dates or in the hopes of finding someone to go home with. Some, as he found out, were straight women who wanted to enjoy a night of drinking and dancing minus any offensive male attention.

The woman next to him that night didn’t seem to be doing either one when she’d yelled ‘Let me ask you a question’.

Grayson hadn’t been sure the words were for him, but he’d turned in her direction. Even in her obvious anger, she was beautiful. In the darkness of the club her hair had been an indiscernible shade of blonde that he would later learn was strawberry blonde. Her eyes were blue and hardened with anger.

Before Grayson could ask if she was talking to him, she said, ‘Do you really think dragging her here is the best way for a guy to tell his girlfriend he’s breaking up with her because he’s gay?’

If she hadn’t been so angry, Grayson would have thought it was a pickup line. It wasn’t. Her boyfriend had indeed taken her to Smoke and Mirrors, presumably because he didn’t know of any other way to tell her that he was in to guys.

Grayson felt bad for her and a touch guilty as he thought of the string of women he’d led on over the years. The two of them ended up talking all night. Shayla was easy to talk to and he found himself telling her things he had never spoken aloud to anyone, including the fact that he was gay and terrified of how his mother would take the news.

At the end of the night, they’d traded phone numbers which led to texting and phone calls and hanging out. They were so close that everyone mistook them for a couple, something Grayson never corrected. When they’d moved in together, people assumed it was the next step of their relationship. No one knew they were only roommates.

His family’s assumption that she was his girlfriend made it easy to keep his secret and not have to go through the pretense of a relationship with another woman. Shayla often used him as an excuse to get out of the string of blind dates her friends insisted on setting her up on. The last one being the guy who’d taken her to Smoke and Mirrors after two months of dating to tell her that he was gay.

Even though it was a hell of a way to end a relationship, and Grayson wanted to punch the guy on her behalf, he was grateful it happened. If it hadn’t been for that, they never would have met and become so close. Now here he was, about to lose his best friend because she had the nerve to want something more from her life than to pose as the girlfriend of her closeted gay best friend.

With a sigh, he rose from bed and pulled a pair of jogging shorts over his boxer briefs. When he stepped into the hallway, he heard the sound of the music she sang along with.

Pausing at the doorway of her room, he frowned. Boxes littered the room. Some were already packed and labeled. Others sat, flaps open, waiting to be filled. This level of packing was not something she could have accomplished in the short amount of time she may have been awake. Maybe she’d worked through the night, but he doubted it.

It was more likely she’d been packing for some time now and he’d missed it. With all the hours he’d been putting in at the prosthetics business his cousins ran, he wasn’t often home. Throw in the weekly dance rehearsal Justin had his wedding party doing and the recent birth of Darren’s baby and things were even more hectic.

Grayson often came home so wiped out he went straight to bed.

I guess you have been thinking about this for a while.

Oh my God! Shayla squealed and jumped as she spun to face him. You scared the shit out of me.

Sorry.

It’s fine. I just need a minute for my heart to start beating again.

How long have you been up?

A while, I didn’t wake you with the noise, did I?

I’m more concerned about why you didn’t tell me about this before last night, Grayson answered. This doesn’t look like a spur of the moment decision.

Guilt flickered across her face. It’s not.

Then why not talk to me before yesterday?

You haven’t exactly been around a lot lately.

Maybe not, but it would have been simple enough to tell me you needed me to make time to talk to you.

I know. I should have. Shayla chewed on her lower lip. At first, I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it so I didn’t want to add to your stress for nothing.

You obviously made up your mind at some point that I’m sure was long before last night. Why not tell me then?

I don’t know. I should have.

Grayson swallowed a sigh. They weren’t getting anywhere with this conversation.

Why now? He tried a different approach. After five years of friendship and two years of living together, why do you want to do this now? What changed?

It’s just getting too hard.

What is?

Living this lie. It was fine for a while, but everyone around me is getting married and I realized I’m never going to have that as long as everyone thinks you and I are together, Shayla explained before adding, And then there’s your family.

Grayson drew his eyebrows together. What does my family have to do with this?

They’re just so great and they treat me like I’m one of them.

And that’s a problem?

Yes, no, I mean, I appreciate how nice they are to me, but I don’t deserve it. The only reason they’re so nice to me is because they think we’re going to get married.

You know that’s not true.

They would have been nice to her either way. That’s how they were. Aunt Annie and Uncle Gerald had always subscribed to the theory of the more the merrier.

Growing up, Grayson envied his cousins, Justin and Darren, and the perfect family they made. Aunt Annie, the consummate stay at home mom, was the kind of mom every kid wanted and every woman wanted to be. She was the type of mom who made her kids lunches every day and always volunteered to go on the class field trips, the kind who made the best cookies and loved having her sons and their friends in the house.

Grayson wondered if his cousins knew how good they had it. While their mom got to stay home and dote on them, his mom struggled to make ends meet after his father left. Even though he always felt guilty for thinking it, he grew up wishing Aunt Annie and Uncle Gerald were his parents and Justin and Darren were his brothers.

Uncle Gerald was the nicest guy you’d ever meet. Quiet and welcoming, he always had time to listen and he was always there. He worked to provide for his family but never missed any of his son’s baseball games.

And of course Justin and Darren were perfect. How could they not be? From the time they set foot in school, his cousins were popular. Not going to the same school with them, Grayson never saw it, but he’d heard all about it. Aunt Annie called his mother often, keeping her updated on Justin and Darren and their charmed lives as star athletes and kings of whatever school they attended.

The only dark spot in their otherwise perfect lives was Darren’s car accident at the age of seventeen. It was the accident that took his left arm and while tragic, Justin easily turned that tragedy in to the clichéd triumph.

Moved by the loss of his brother’s arm and the desire to help others, Justin started a prosthetics company. And because he was Justin, it wasn’t long before he turned it in to a Fortune 500 company, making him and Darren extremely wealthy.

It was almost a year ago that Grayson joined Jacobs Brothers Prosthetics as Vice President of Operations. Until then, even as an adult, he’d felt like the odd man out in their happy little family. Sometimes, he still felt that way. Despite a seven year age difference, Justin and Darren were tight, something Grayson couldn’t relate to as an only child.

Now his perfect cousins had amazing wives. Danni and Darren met in high school, after his accident, and married a year after graduating college together. While Darren ran a business, Danni was doing the stay at home mom thing with their two month old son, Preston.

Justin’s wife wasn’t the type of woman Grayson expected his cousin to go for. Chelsea was beautiful and sharp tongued and Grayson loved her sarcastic sense of humor. She was also the first full figured woman his cousin had ever dated.

Having gotten to know Chelsea, Grayson could understand why Justin would fall for her. Chelsea was strong and smart and when Justin had testicular cancer, she uprooted her life and gave up a successful public relations career in Los Angeles to be by his side.

Grayson wanted what his cousins had. He wanted someone at his side, a partner who was not only devoted to him but strong and independent, someone to build a life with. He couldn’t blame Shayla for wanting the same and she was right. As long as they clung to their ruse, neither of them could have what they wanted.

Grayson stepped into the room. I’m sorry.

Shayla frowned. Why are you sorry? I’m the one moving out.

I’m sorry I dragged you into this and made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were unhappy.

I’m not unhappy, Gray. It’s just not enough anymore. I need to move on from the illusion of us.

I understand, Grayson said, looking around the room. So, when are you officially moving on and moving out?

Um, I was going to start tomorrow while you were at work.

Grayson sucked in a breath. Okay, then. Do you need any help?

No, Marissa’s going to help me. We’re taking the day off.

Grayson ground his teeth together to keep his thoughts of Marissa from escaping. Of all of Shayla’s friends, Marissa was the only one he didn’t like and the feeling was mutual.

Listen, why don’t you use my car tomorrow?

Shayla’s eyes widened. You’d let me do that?

Sure, I’ll drive your convertible to work and you can take the Pilot.

But you just got that car.

It’s fine. I trust you. Besides, moving will be easier with the bigger car.

I guess, but I thought you’d hate me.

I could never hate you.

I wouldn’t blame you if you did or if you were mad at me.

I’m not mad, not anymore.

That’s good. You’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose that.

Grayson pulled her in for a hug. We’ll always be friends.

Leaning back in his embrace, Shayla gave him a tentative smile. This could be a good thing for you too, you know.

Grayson knew what she was getting at, but it wasn’t going to happen. Eventually, he would have to tell his family she moved out. Everyone would assume they broke up and when they tried to press him for details, he would just tell them he didn’t want to talk about it.

His family was never going to know he was gay.

"Come on, Cris. You have to come out with us."

If he wasn’t tethered by a blue tooth device because he was driving, Cris would have pulled the phone from his ear. As much as he liked his friend, Eric Scott was the stereotypical homosexual from his effeminate voice and eye for fashion to his cute bubble butt.

Hell, the guy was an esthetician for God’s sake. If that didn’t scream gay, Cris didn’t know what did. God help the person that said Eric was a hairdresser, or worse, a beautician. At the uttering of either of those words, Eric’s claws came out.

It wasn’t like Cris had a butch job though. As soon as he told people he was a dance teacher, the assumption was that he was gay. All male dancers were gay, at least according to the stereotype.

Not even being a hip hop dance teacher excused him from the assumption. No one ever thought he was a hip hop teacher. People heard the words dance teacher and concluded it was ballet or tap or both. Yes, he was trained in ballet and tap and jazz and contemporary and even ballroom dance, but his favorite was and always had been hip hop.

As he’d aged, putting on serious bulk, he looked less like the skinny ballet dancer he’d been as a teen. It didn’t matter though. The word dancer always evoked thoughts of ballet in people.

Come on. It’s been forever since you broke up with Dane the dick. It’s time to put yourself back out there.

Cris cringed at the mention of his ex. Not because he still felt the pain of the loss but because he hated the reminder of his poor choice. In his defense, Dane’s true colors didn’t come out in full force until Cris lost his parents, but it was a hell of an eye opener; one that made him leery of getting involved again.

I can’t.

"Yes, you can. You have to. If you don’t, Dane wins."

No, I can’t. I’m having dinner with my brothers, same as I do every Sunday.

Oh. Eric’s voice pitched even higher. Is it your turn to host? Because if it is, I would be happy to modify my plans to spend an evening with the Kinkaid boys.

This wasn’t the first time Eric tried to pull an invitation from him and he wasn’t the only one to try. All of his gay friends had a thing for his older brothers. The fact that none of them were gay did not factor in to the equation. His friends were happy for any opportunity to ogle his brothers, including at the weekly softball game the five of them played with a team sponsored by his older brothers’ auto shop.

With the summer softball season starting soon, his friend would be at every game he could manage. Though he would say it was in the name of supporting Cris, they both knew that was the excuse Eric used to scam on his brothers.

You’re not modifying your plans, Cris said. Just go out and have a good time.

You’re no fun, Eric said and Cris could easily envision him pouting.

So you’ve said before. I need to go. Be safe tonight.

Honey, I always have safe sex.

Cris laughed. I said nothing about sex.

Yeah, well, you should have. One of us needs to be getting laid.

Goodbye, Eric.

Cris hung up before his friend could say anything else, but Eric wasn’t wrong. The last time Cris had gotten laid was the night he and Dane had the last hurrah break up sex. It had been angry but passionate enough that Cris had to be careful not to convince himself that he could forgive Dane.

Shoving aside thoughts of his ex, Cris pulled his car in front of the house his brothers Max and Marc shared. Their brother, Reese, was already there, but Austin’s car was no where in sight.

At thirty-two years old, Maxwell and Marcus were the oldest of the Kinkaid brothers. Being identical twins, they’d done everything together since birth, including buying the house with their share of the money from their father’s life insurance policy.

Besides sharing the house, they ran Kinkaid Automotive Repair together, having taken over when their father passed away. The old man died of a heart attack right there in the shop. It had taken Cris months to work up the nerve to go back into the place, but his brothers, who’d already been working there as mechanics, didn’t want to let go of the legacy.

The twins didn’t just share a job or a career. They also liked to share their women, which they insisted was the reason they were still single. Until they found a woman willing to be with both of them, neither one was going to be in a relationship.

Cris didn’t have anything against polyamory, but he could not imagine being in a poly relationship with one of his brothers. It would be too weird. Apparently not many women could deal with it either since their relationships never lasted. According to his brothers, the women were okay with the threesome as a one time thing, but they didn’t want it to be long term.

Grabbing the twelve pack of MGD he’d brought along, Cris emerged from the car. When he reached the front door, he rang the bell but entered before waiting for an answer. They all did it and the twins expected it, which was why they left the door unlocked.

Max and Marc only locked the door if they weren’t home or they were sleeping, proclaiming they could handle any unwelcome visitors. Something Cris didn’t doubt. The twins were six-three and a solid two hundred twenty pounds of muscle. Not many people wanted to mess with them, but on the off chance something did come up, they were armed. Both had concealed weapons permits, something they felt was a necessity as business owners.

Cris went straight for the kitchen, where he could put the beer in the fridge and where he could hear his brothers talking so loudly they might as well have been shouting. Growing up in a house with five boys, Cris was used to the shouting. It was sometimes the only way to be heard.

Hey, Twink, Reese said, entering the kitchen with the twins trailing behind.

Screw you, Buttercup, Cris gave his standard retort and the others cracked up.

They all had obnoxious nicknames for each other. Max and Marc were The Tweedles or Dee and Dum. Reese was Buttercup since the kids in elementary school called him Reese’s Pieces or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. Austin got saddled with Oddball which was supposed to be a play on the fact that the first part of his name sounded like the word Odd. Bringing up the caboose of the nickname train was Cris who got stuck with Twink.

If anyone asked them, his brothers would say they called him Twink as a shortened version of the nickname Twinkle Toes, but it was a damn lie. They used to call him Twinkle Toes. Since he was a dancer, it was a fun and somewhat logical way for them to tease him. It was Austin who got the bright idea to call him Twink since a Twink was an effeminate, stereotypical gay guy; like Eric.

Cris may have been gay, but he was no twink. Besides being too old now at the age of twenty-six, he didn’t look the part. He was too tall, at an even six feet. And he also did not wax his body hair. Once, he let Eric talk him in to waxing his pubes and it was the single worst experience of his life, especially the itch when the hair grew back.

He also didn’t worry about his wardrobe. Cris wasn’t a slob, but he dressed for comfort, not style. He was happier in a T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans and not skinny jeans. Just because he had the body for them did not mean he wanted to wear the crotch constrictors.

Cris opened the fridge and shoved the beer inside, placing it next to a dwindling twelve pack already there. Grabbing a cold one, he asked, What are you losers making me for dinner?

Hot dogs, Max and Marc spoke in unison, something they often did.

They broke in to laughter when he gave them a one fingered salute.

Even though his brothers liked to give him shit about being gay, it wasn’t homophobic shit. It was brothers have to give each other a hard time shit. None of his brothers had an issue with him being gay.

Sure, they gave him shit about it, always making gay jokes, but they never let anyone get away with bullying him. Not many people wanted to bully him when they got a look at Marc and Max. No one wanted to take on the twins who would have happily gone to jail defending Cris against being bullied for his sexuality.

Where is everyone? Austin called, entering the kitchen moments later. I figured I’d find you guys in here if I just followed the smell of assholes.

Reese raised his eyebrows. Explain to me how you know what assholes smell like, Oddball.

Austin shrugged. Been spending too much time with Twink, I guess.

The others guffawed while Cris treated his brother to a flip of the bird.

If that’s an offer, I’ll pass. Austin jerked his head toward the twins. You might have a shot with the Tweedles. They’re in to that incest thing.

The twins weren’t exactly in to ‘that incest thing’. They shared their women, always in a threesome, but they insisted they didn’t fuck each other.

We can dance if you want, little man, but you’re liable to get your toes stepped on, Max told Austin.

See. Austin looked at Cris. They’re perfect for you. They like to dance around in tights too.

Cris saw the attack coming. So did Austin, no doubt, but there was no where to go with the five of them crowded in the kitchen.

Max grabbed Austin, wrapping an arm around Austin’s neck and dragging him down in a standing headlock. You’re too slow, Oddball.

Damn, Dum, did you forget to shower today? Austin asked, though he sounded short of breath. Or is that Dollar Store deodorant letting you down already?

Max wedged Austin’s face tighter against his armpit. Get in there and take a good whiff.

You’re killing me. Austin flailed in Max’s grip.

Just so you know, if he does kill you, I’ll make sure I offer Kyra my condolences. Reese smirked. I’ll offer her my condolences all night long.

Go ahead, but she won’t care since she dumped me last night, Austin said.

Max let go of Austin. There was no kicking a guy when he was down, especially when that guy was your brother.

Why’d she dump you? Marc asked.

Austin shrugged. She said she realized I’m not marriage material.

Ouch, Max and Marc said.

What the hell does that mean? Reese asked.

You’d have to ask her, but it’s not a big deal, Austin said. She was starting to get on my nerves anyway. The sex was good, but that’s about it.

She lasted what, six weeks? Marc asked.

Eight, Max corrected.

Damn, guess that means I lost the pool, Reese said. I had four weeks.

Max looked at Marc. Yeah, well, I think I had eight weeks so pay up.

Marc reached into his wallet and extracted a twenty and handed it to Max and Reese followed suit. Cris shook his head. He thought they were kidding when they said they had a pool going.

Austin watched the exchange with raised eyebrows. Why are you guys worrying about how long I go out with a woman anyway? Living vicariously through me since I’m the only one getting any?

Max grinned. Don’t choke on those big words.

Don’t choke on my big dick, Austin retorted.

Marc mirrored Max’s expression, as usual.

What’s that shit eating smirk about? Austin demanded.

The twins traded glances, but it was Max who answered, We bet on your love life because you’re easy money.

What the hell are you talking about?

You’re a commitment phobe, Marc replied. Every time a woman gets serious, you do something to get on her nerves so she dumps you.

Bullshit, Dr. Phil! Austin snapped. Just because I haven’t found the right woman doesn’t mean I’m a commitment phobe. It means I’m selective, which I think I should be since I have to spend the rest of my life with her.

Are you gay? Cris asked, grinning at his brother.

Reese snapped his fingers. You could be on to something, Twink. The signs are there. Lots of closet gays use women to make other people think they’re straight and they stay single for a long time.

I hate to break it to you, Sherlock, but the signs are there for you too, Austin pointed out. All of you as a matter of fact. Not one of you supposedly straight fuckers has even come close to being married and the Tweedles fuck each other for God’s sake. It doesn’t get any gayer than that.

Do you want an ass kicking? Max asked.

I think he’s deflecting again, Marc said.

Look, I’m not gay, Austin said and then added, No offense, Twink. She wanted me to do dinner with her parents tonight. I said no so she gave me an ultimatum. Dinner with you guys as a single man or dinner with her and the parents. I chose your sorry asses, though now I’m beginning to wonder why.

They all nodded solemnly. It wasn’t the first time one of them had been forced to choose between family and a significant other. They’d all been with at least one person who was jealous of their closeness and tried to force their hand.

The me or them ultimatum never ended well for the one issuing it. Growing up, the five of them had always been close. When they lost both of their parents in the same month, their bond became unbreakable.

Cris had yet to meet a guy that didn’t get jealous of his brothers, but no one was going to make him choose between family and a lover. Family would win every time, but just once he wished he could meet someone that didn’t make him choose.

Was that too much to ask?

Chapter Two

One second; that was all it took to wreck Cris’s Monday morning in the most literal sense of the word.

One second he was sitting in his car, waiting for the red light to flicker down to green and bam, some asshole plowed into the back of his car. The impact sent him and the car forward in one quick, violent motion.

Taking a minute to assess the damage to himself and deciding there was none, he let out a few choice curse words. Words that would have had his mother shaking her finger in his face if she had been there to hear them, but damn it all. He did not need this.

Cris popped his glove box open and grabbed his insurance card and registration before emerging from the car to trade information with the other driver, and more importantly, inspect the damage to his car. With any luck, they could make this quick and he wouldn’t be late to his first class.

His mouth fell open when he approached the rear of his car. Cris expected to find the other driver, perhaps a blue haired old lady clutching an oversized white purse, standing by his car ready to lavish him with apologies.

Instead, a man dressed in a three piece suit stood by his bumper with a cell phone pressed to his ear. On seeing Cris, he held a finger in his direction, a dismissive gesture that had Cris clenching his jaw so hard it hurt.

Cris looked at the other guy’s car and snorted. It figured the asshole would be driving a convertible.

Vanessa, its Grayson. Do me a favor and let Darren know I’m going to be a few minutes late to the meeting. Grayson paused to listen to the woman’s response. I know, but I’m having car trouble.

Car trouble? Cris rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to shout the truth into the guy’s phone.

I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Grayson shoved his cell phone into his jacket pocket. Cris readied himself for a long overdue apology, but the guy didn’t say anything. His blue eyes traveled the length of Cris’s body and damn it if Grayson’s slow perusal didn’t give him butterflies in his gut as if he was some kind of pre-pubescent boy instead of a twenty-six year old man.

The guy was ridiculously good-looking, like someone who had just emerged from the pages of a fashion magazine. His three piece suit did nothing to hide his broad shoulders and chest that tapered down to a slim waist and long legs.

Grayson’s mouth quirked upward, as if he could read Cris’s instant attraction to him. His gaze lingered on Cris’s face for