Four grandsons. I couldn’t keep my mind from going back to the one Hawthorne I’d already met. Grayson. The perfectly tailored suit. The silvery gray eyes. The arrogance in the way he’d told me to assume he knew everything. Alisa gave me a knowing look. “Take it from someone who’s both been there and done that—never lose your heart to a Hawthorne.” “Don’t worry,” I told her, as annoyed with her assumption as I was with the fact that she’d been able to see any trace of my thoughts on my face. “I keep mine under lock and key.”
