“Would you like a drink?” Grayson asked. He and Xavier were alone in the parlor at the castle. Their father was out, and Quinn was at a photoshoot.

“It’s only twelve-thirty in the afternoon!” Xavier chuckled. “Besides, I thought you’d given up drinking.” He crossed the room, picked up a glass from the bar, and turned it upright.

“In the immortal words of Jimmy Buffet, it’s five o’clock somewhere.” Grayson laughed. “I slowed down, but I never said I ...