gone home to them when her world had fallen apart, rather than driving out into the middle of nowhere and insisting that a grumpy stranger put her up.
Lori directed him to a ranch house on a suburban street in Palo Alto. He could feel her excitement growing with every mile they got closer to her mother's house.
"I can't wait to see how big the babies are." She'd told him all about one niece from her brother Chase and a niece and nephew from her sister Sophie. "They're so cute, it's crazy. And Summer is the perfect older cousin for them. She even changes diapers," Lori added with a scrunch of her nose at the thought of it. "The three dogs take it up to the perfect level of craziness, just like when we were kids." Her smile faltered slightly as she said, "I wish Sweetpea could have come with us today. She would have loved being in the middle it all."
He reached up to stroke a hand over her hair. "I wish Mo was here too, because then I could have used her as a big furry shield."
She smacked his hand away in mock irritation, but she was laughing again as they got out of the truck. Walking hand in hand down the sidewalk, he could hear the laughter and conversation coming from her mother's yard. Lori sped up and pulled him toward the front door. She didn't ring the doorbell, just walked in. The living room was empty and the French doors out to the back were open wide.
Of course, the second they walked into the backyard, every eye in the place turned to them - the babies and animals sensing something big was up, too - and Grayson was glad for those stressful years on Wall Street where he'd learned not to let anyone see him sweat, no matter how bad the pressure.
Crap, he thought as he saw just how big each of her brothers was in person. He was screwed.
"Everyone," Lori said, "this is Grayson." She rattled off the names of her siblings and their other halves and children one after the other.
He hadn't been expecting a warm welcome from her brothers, and he wasn't disappointed when they all scowled at him. In perfect contrast, a beautiful, gray-haired woman came forward with open arms and a ready smile.
"Grayson," she said in a warm voice that sounded so much like Lori's as she reached for his hand with the same elegant fingers, "I'm Mary, Lori's mother. I'm so glad that you could come today."
He stared at her, stunned as he realized he was looking at a picture of Lori in forty or so years...and that she would be even more beautiful than she was today.
In that moment, he wanted to tell Mary that he was in love with her daughter. But as he looked into Mary's eyes and said, "Thank you," something told him she already knew exactly what he felt.
Lori, of course, immediately ran off to lift one baby after another into her arms. Grayson stood with Mary and watched her shower them with love.
"She missed them," he said to Mary in a low voice. "She missed all of you. I tried to get her to go back home, but she wouldn't leave my farm."
"Of all my children, Lori's always been the most stubborn, even when she's wrong about something." He felt Mary's eyes on him, wise and surprisingly calm, considering the chaos all around her. "She isn't always the easiest personality for everyone to like," Mary admitted, "but she's impossible not to love."
A baby reached for Grandma Sullivan and as she moved to pick her up, Grayson remained apart from everyone for a moment to better take in the scene in front of him. Everyone in Mary's backyard was paired off. Some had children, some had pets, some were engaged, some were pregnant, but all of them were clearly happy.
But even crazier was that, instead of making him uneasy, he realized why Lori had been so irresistible from the start. Love - pure, unconditional love - was all she'd ever known.
And that same love was what she'd given him, even when he hadn't deserved it, and hadn't believed he'd ever be capable of giving it back to her.
But he did love her. So much that even though there was nothing more he wanted than to keep her holed up with him on his farm until they were old and gray, he knew he had to set