which had bugged the hell out of him. Then Ray had moved off to greet friends, looking like he was settling in.
Kyle made a show of glancing around the room, then shrugging. “Who the hell knows?”
“Huh. Saw him earlier—thought he was coming.”
Kyle looked slightly worried, as he’d done ever since the night last October when Ray had been smashed up in an accident, but he quickly masked his expression. “I don’t know what the hell Ray does these days.”
Grant shrugged, but the statement didn’t make him feel better. Ray had been dating Christina off and on for the past year—everyone in town knew that. So Kyle saying he didn’t know what Ray was doing tonight annoyed him.
It shouldn’t. Grant and Christina hadn’t been a couple in a long time, so why would Grant care who she went out with?
But he did. Ray now got to be the one lying with her in the dark, touching her beautiful body, sliding his hands under her full breasts, tasting her mouth …
Grant tried not to think about it, but it was impossible. Every time Grant saw Ray, he barely resisted the urge to punch the shit out of him.
Tyler lifted his beer bottle and toasted Adam. “To my big brother, Adam, who’s sticking his head into the noose tomorrow morning. Trapped forever into a life of shopping for rugs, buying furniture, kitchen appliances …”
“Didn’t you and Mom buy a new stove last week?” Ross yelled at him.
“Shut up,” Tyler said. “Here’s to Adam. Boldly going where none of his brothers have gone before.”
“You mean down on a woman?” someone called.
Tyler gave him the finger. Adam stood up and raised his own beer.
“Eat your hearts out, losers,” Adam said. “I snagged me the best woman in town.”
No one could dispute him about that. Bailey was a sweetheart, and Grant had long considered her a good friend. She’d been a friend to him even after Christina broke up with Grant. Adam, his lucky-ass older brother, always landed on his feet.
The party got started. Beer flowed, chili was served. Grant got his usual compliments of Shit, this is hot—what did the hell did you put in here? To You gotta give my dad this recipe, Grant, come on.
Grant only grinned and told them to piss off. The secret of Grant’s chili had been handed down from his grandfather, passed on to only one male Campbell of each generation. He remembered the day his mom had given him a sealed envelope, saying, You’re old enough to have this now.
Grant had been sixteen, and he hadn’t known what to expect from the envelope—the sex talk written down? Secrets to financial success?
He’d been stunned to find his grandpa’s chili recipe, written out in his dad’s handwriting. Grant had memories of his father standing over the stove, winking at anyone who asked him what he put in the chili and refusing to answer.
The recipe hadn’t gone to Adam, the oldest boy. It had come to Grant. Mom had explained that the honor wasn’t reserved for the oldest, but the one who would take best care of it. Grant had been very, very proud to be chosen.
Not even his mom, Olivia, knew what was in the recipe. It was a secret that Grant would pass along to his son, when he was ready.
Except it was looking more and more like Grant would never have kids at all. The thought etched sadness into his happiness for Adam.
Grant took a break from the poker table after a while and wandered outside to breathe the clean air of the balmy Texas night. Spring came early in Hill Country, with grasses turning green, and bluebonnets carpeting the sides of the roads and along the streams. Right now, the moon was high, the night cool and clear, but winter’s chill was gone.
Tomorrow Grant would stand up—the best he could after a night of pouring beer down his throat—as best man to Adam, the brother he was closest to. He was happy for him, but sad to say good-bye. Adam and Bailey would be heading back to California after their honeymoon in New Orleans, to work together on a movie Adam was the stunt coordinator for.
Bittersweet. That was the term for what Grant was feeling.
“Hey, Grant,” Kyle Malory said. He stepped off the small porch and moved down the drive to where Grant stood, taking in the night. “Been meaning to talk to you.”
“’Bout what?” Grant remembered Kyle eying him earlier, and faint interest perked through his