2. Grayson

Grayson

H alf an hour later, just when I think my son will never run out of things to talk about, he suddenly gets out of my lap and sprints to the sandbox. TJ, Sam's three-year-old son, and both the twins are already in there, flinging grains of sand every which way like an explosion of silica.

I watch my son go, already missing his voice. The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the yard, and I take a deep breath, savoring the salty ocean breeze. When I turn back around, Tilly is taking a seat with a woman I don't know.

"Grayson, this is Penny, Sam's sister," Tilly says. The resemblance strikes me immediately. The women look very similar with their copper hair and matching smiles. I met Sam briefly last year, and let's just say, if she wasn't married, I would have happily made a move. She has an easy way about her, a freedom that is enchanting to watch. Discreetly, I check Penny's ring finger. Damn.

It was a long time in jail—not as long as others get—but still. I missed women. Dating was a curious thing before prison. I had fun on occasion, but nothing of note. Relationships of any kind were practically forbidden under my family's thumb. Now that I'm out and there is no longer the family to contend with, I'm suddenly very curious. Alright, I'll admit it. I'm feeling lonely. The pleasant company of a woman would be more than welcome.

Unfortunately for me, both Sam and her sister are off-limits. I'm not that interested anyway. In fact, the only thing that strikes me about either of them is the resemblance to a certain auburn-haired detective. I never knew I had a thing for redheads, but here I am, pining over everything with a slight reddish hue.

"Hi, Grayson. Nice to meet you," Penny says, holding out a hand. I shake it as two more kids run out into the yard. "Annie, keep an eye on Clark," Penny calls after them. The ten-year-old girl rolls her eyes but follows after the younger boy with bright curly red hair. "Ignore her; she secretly loves watching out for all those boys."

The group grows quiet as everyone watches the kids start arguing over a bright red shovel. One of the twins starts crying, but Annie grabs a different shovel and guides his hand to it.

That must be Drew. Right, he's blind. Drew feels along the toy, then smiles and starts digging. All is peaceful in the sandbox once again, and the adults settle back into their conversations. Penny was right; Annie is great with them.

Penny clears her throat. "So, Grayson, what are your plans?"

I sip my beer. There's no probation for me, which I'm very grateful for right now. The drink slips down my throat, bitter and delicious, soothing my entire body. I savor the flavor and set the bottle down. "Erm, get a job and a place, I guess."

"Any ideas where?" Tilly asks.

I shake my head, and the group takes turns studying each other's faces. Miranda is the first to speak. "Penny has been doing the books with me, but she lives in Monterey and has her own things going on."

Penny nods along. "Not that I don't love helping. But Miranda tells us you're a guru with accounting."

"I was, I suppose." I can already see where this is going and shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"When can you reapply for your CPA?" Penny asks.

"Now. There's no guarantee they'll approve it, though." There's a collective nod. Felons can apply, but the state of California has the final say on whether to issue it or not.

"Would you be willing to work for us?" Tilly asks, her voice hopeful. "I'd like to be a real family, Grayson. What you did for us… we want to take care of you. No strings attached. You can go whenever, and we would never expect anything in return."

I almost laugh. Of course, she would reiterate that. Our blood family had been the exact opposite. Every favor was just waiting to be cashed in, even with my own mother.

My mother-in-law, Lori, with her gray hair shining in the sunlight, leans forward. "We'd love to leave George with you today, Grayson."

I take a breath and study each of their faces. Everyone is wearing expressions of cautious optimism. What in the world is happening? They're being so… nice. It makes me shudder.

But it's as if all my dreams are being displayed on a plate right in front of me. All I have to do is reach out and take a bite.

I smile. "I'd love to, Tilly. I should be the one asking you, really."

She laughs. "You know that's not true. None of us went to jail or sacrificed two years with their kid. We all have kids, Gray. We know exactly how hard that would be."

"Not all of us. Some can still keep their legs closed," Miranda says. Lori actually gasps, but the rest of the group laughs.

Penny is already getting up. She flips her hair back and smiles at me. "I have a few things for you to sign. Let's go to Tilly's office."

"Tommy's office too!" Tommy says, but that makes everyone laugh even harder. Tommy is a professional surfer. His aloof and goofy personality doesn't really align with a business mindset. I'd eat my hat if the man did anything in the office other than lock the door to watch porn.

I rise to my feet and follow Penny. Before I go inside, I take a look over my shoulder at Georgie with his… cousins? Wait, no. Second cousins. He looks very happy. But his cheeks are already growing pink in the hot overhead sun.

"Hey, Miranda? Can you put some sunscreen on Georgie?"

She's staring at her phone, her feet up on a second chair. "No," she says without looking up.

Tilly stands up and glares at her sister. "God, Miranda." She slaps her sister's feet off the chair. Miranda glares back but doesn't say anything. Tilly waves me away. "I got it, Gray. Go sign your stuff."

Nodding, I follow Penny. She walks quickly through the house, like she's been here a dozen times before. Near the garage, she stops in front of a door. It has a childproof case on the handle, but Penny opens it expertly and walks inside.

The paperwork is spread out on a corner desk. They were definitely prepared for me to say yes. Penny sits and rolls the chair forward before pulling up a single sheet off the stack. "W4 first." I sit in the extra fold-out chair and quickly work through it. When I'm done, she brings out the CPA application next. That takes a while longer, but eventually, I finish it as well.

The final stack of papers is very thick, and Penny hands it over without meeting my eye line.

When I see an address on the top page, I look at her. "What's this?"

"Tilly got you a condo," she says with a wince.

My eyes widen. "She what?"

Penny holds up both hands. "I'm a real estate agent, and she got a great deal. But technically, she would be your landlord."

I put my head in both hands. "No. Absolutely not."

But Penny swivels her chair around to face me. "You're helping her out. She wanted to diversify, and this was the perfect excuse."

"A condo? This is a joke, right? Jesus, how much money does she have?"

Penny shrugs, but the way it happens, I have a feeling she does know exactly how much money Tilly has. As her real estate agent, I suppose she would have a good idea. "If you're worried about the state of the home, I have pictures—"

I hand the stack of papers back. "It's too much. I'll find my own place."

She crosses her arms. "Grayson, if you have a home and job, George can stay. Have you thought about that?" My eyebrows bear down. Being put in my place is not a favorite pastime. But Penny doesn't stop. "Where else will you go? Stay here? Sleep on their couch? How is that different from staying at another one of her homes?"

Damn. She's right about that. "Look, as someone who's killed a person, I can tell you, just move on. This is your chance to restart."

"Killed?" I ask.

"You don't know the story?" she asks with a furrowed brow. I certainly do not. If I did, I might not be in this office alone with her. She flaps a hand in the air. "It doesn't matter anyway. Don't look back, right? Tilly can tell you if you're curious. Point is, I get it. Being labeled sucks."

She slides the stack of papers back my way. "But we aren't doing that. You're her hero, Grayson. You deserve this."

I look at the rental agreement and back at Penny. "I'm not someone who likes handouts."

Pursing her lips, Penny clicks a pen and holds it out. "Everything comes out of your check. It's a leg up, not a handout." Like she's taunting me, she clicks the pen again multiple times before I finally snatch it from her. Quickly, I sign everything, feeling a little piece of my soul slip away with every dotted line I cover.

A smirk dancing on her cheeks, she says, "Great!" The papers are tucked into an envelope, and she stands. "So, last thing. It's furnished, but if you need anything…" She pulls out a credit card and hands it over. "This is under Tommy's name, but he added you as a signer. The minimum payment for whatever you spend will come out of your check."

I don't bother arguing but deep down know I'll never use it. Penny holds out her hand, and I shake it once. "Welcome to the surf shack family, Grayson."