He knew that tone. Grey didn’t get emotional often, but when he did, it was obvious—at least to Ian. Maybe a sign of things to come as Greyson became a father?
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it?”
Grey shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. Ian had made a career of watching for clues. Reading body language. He didn’t blame his brother for being nervous. Ian was scared as hell Màiri might ask to stay. And she would be within her rights to do so. He had, after all, offered.
“I can’t believe you suggested it,” Grey admitted. And his tone revealed what Ian had already known—Grey was pissed about it.
“How could I not? Unlike Marian, she has family here. I can’t presume her family is less important to her than ours is to us.”
“Marian had family here too.”
Ian made a sound in his throat. “Yeah, a father who tried to marry her off to some Scottish noble dickhead. Nice guy.”
What would Grey have done if his wifedidhave family here she loved and wanted to be with . . . Would he leave her? Force her to leave them? They both knew the answer, but his brother wouldn’t admit it.
“If she wants to stay, it would kill me, Grey,” he said, his voice breaking a little. “You know that. I’m the most sentimental of the bunch.”
They all knew that was true. His brother couldn’t deny it.
“Not knowing if Dad was OK. Not to mention it would screw with my head royally to know you don’t even technically exist yet.”
The idea of it baffled them both. Normally, they just didn’t talk about the strange paradoxes of time travel.
It occurred to him that it was probably time for him to bring up something else they didn’t talk about. If he and Màirididgo back to New Orleans, would he really step back into the role he hated? No. It wouldn’t be right to ask her to step out of her comfort zone if he was too much of a coward to be real with the people in his life. Fuck it. Time to grow up.
“I don’t belong there.”
Grey just stared at him. It took him a solid thirty seconds to say, “In the future?”
Ian thought of their home. The food. The music. The flushing toilets. Fuck no, he definitely belonged in the future. He loved New Orleans almost as much as he loved his family.
“No. I mean at McCaim.”
He couldn’t believe he was finally saying this. But it had to be said.
“When Dad first told us about his plans for the company, our roles in it, everyone assumed I would handle our public relations.”
Grey frowned. “Because you love that shit.”
“Loved.Back in college. But who the hell knows what they really like in college? Or what they want to do for the rest of their lives?”
He thought of his brothers, all of whom had seemed to know that very thing.
“Don’t answer that.”
He expected his brother to look confused. To ask questions. To flip out. Instead, he just shook his head, his lips pressed together. As if . . .
As if he already knew.
“It’s about time, asshole,” Grey said at last.
Ian’s mouth dropped open.
“Mom told you?” He couldn’t believe his mother had betrayed his confidence. She’d promised to keep their conversation to herself, and besides, he hadn’t even told her the extent of his dissatisfaction.
“Mom? No. She didn’t say a word. I’m your brother. We are your brothers.”
“We?”
