tricks of time ― grayson hawthorne [the inheritance games]

EPILOGUE

Leslie looked from me to the fireplace. "Well," she said as chipper as anyone wearing her other I EAT MORNING PEOPLE shirt had ever sounded, "what are you waiting for?" I looked down at the trust paperwork, up at the fireplace— and tossed it all in. As the flames licked at the pages, devouring the legalese and, with it, the option to foist the power and responsibility I'd been given off on anyone else, I felt something in me begin to loosen, like the petals of a tulip opening to the slightest bloom.

I could do this. I would do this.

If the past year had been any kind of test— I was ready. I was ready for anything.

___

I found Grayson at the edge of the Hawthorne maze. Around us, pink lillies were blooming. He was wearing a white tuxedo that fit his body far too well and standing next to a picnic.
I ran like the ball gown wasn't weighing me down. Grayson caught me, our bodies colliding. "Happy birthday."

Some kisses were soft and gentle— and some were like fire. Eventually, the realization that we had an audience managed to penetrate my brain. Oren was discreet. He wasn't looking at us, but my head of security clearly wasn't about to let Grayson Hawthorne and me be alone for too long. Too much had happened; so much that even a picnic on the grounds of Hawthorne House could not be taken lightly.

And especially not today.

"I should warn you," he whispered in my ear, "I may have gotten a little help from Jameson, but I am dangerously good at birthdays."

___

The picnic was just the beginning. Grayson Hawthorne never leveled for proficiency. Achieving mastery was the only thing in his eyes.

A hidden picnic.

Book shopping.

A helicopter ride to the Gulf.

Slow dancing, barefoot, on the beach.

The ocean. A cliff. A wager. A race. A dare. I'm going to remember this. That was my overwhelming feeling on the helicopter ride home. I'm going to remember it all.
Years from now, as I grow old with Gray, I'd still be able to feel it. The weight of the ball gown,the wind in my face. Sun-warmed sand on my skin and chocolate-covered strawberries melting on my tongue.

By sundown, we were almost home. It had been the perfect day. No crowds. No celebrities. 

"Party," was the only word I said as the helicopter approached the Hawthorne estate, and I took in the view below. The topiary garden and adjacent lawn were lit by thousands of tiny lights—and that wasn't even the best of it. "That had better not be a dance floor," I told Grayson, in awe of both him and the view below us.

Grayson took the helicopter in for a landing, threw his head back, and smiled. "You didn't really think I was finished, did you?"No wonder he'd needed to get me out of the House.

"I think I agree with Leslie. You might actually be God."

As we disembarked and walked toward the topiary garden that we'd shared a picnic together just hours before in, I glanced at Oren, who was waiting for us at the end of the maze.  I narrowed my eyes, but I was smiling. "You knew about this," I accused.

"I may have been presented with a guest list to vet for entrance onto the estate."

My head of security's expression was absolutely unreadable...until the party came into full view. Then he almost smiled. "I also may have vetoed a few names on that list." And by a few, I realized a moment later, he meant almost all of them.