How anyone could walk away from their own kid, let alone eight of them, was beyond him. He actively resented Chloe, a woman he barely knew, for what she’d done to her son tonight. For someday, in the not-too-distant future, Caden would find out that his mother had rejected him, and he’d never be the same.

Grayson had never been the same. He took another deep sip of the scotch, letting the searing heat soothe him.

“What’s that stuff?” a little voice next to him asked.

He looked over at the girl with the red curls who’d sat next to him in his quiet corner that wasn’t so quiet anymore. “It’s scotch. You ever had it?”

She wrinkled her adorable nose. “Of course not. I’m a kid. Kids don’t drink scotch. My Pop likes it, though, so that’s how I know what it is.”

“What do you drink?”

“I like apple juice, but Mommy says it has too much sugar, so it’s a special treat.”

“Your mommy is very wise.”

“She’s very pretty, too.” Pointing, the girl said, “That’s her right there.”

He followed her finger to the blonde he’d met the night before, and had to agree that Lucy’s sister, Emma, was indeed gorgeous. Her daughter took after her aunt Lucy with her red hair, green eyes and pale skin, whereas her mom was a willowy blonde with big blue eyes.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Who wants to know?” he asked, amused by the girl’s blatant matchmaking.

“I do.”

“And what’s your name?”

“Simone.”

“That’s a pretty name. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No! I’m nine. Nine-year-olds don’t have boyfriends. You’re like Colton,” she said of his cousin, who was engaged to Lucy. “He knows nothing about kids.”

Grayson knew more about kids than any childless man his age, but he didn’t share that information with the girl. “What kind of stuff should I know?”

“Well, you should know that nine-year-old girls don’t drink scotch and have boyfriends.”

“I guess you don’t smoke, then, either, do you?”

She dissolved into giggles, and he lost a tiny piece of his heart to her. What a cutie. “No! I don’t smoke. Smoking is gross, and it kills you.”

“That’s exactly right. Stay away from that stuff.”

“What do you want for Christmas this year?” she asked.

God, what a sweet question. What did he want anyway? How about some peace and a whole new life? That’d be a great place to start. “I want a pair of socks. What about you?”

“Socks? Who wants socks for Christmas?”

“I do, and it’s my Christmas list, so you don’t get to make fun of it.”

“That’s true. Sorry.”