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“I don’t know,” I say, leaning back against the island again. “Maybe because Cian finger fucked her?”
Ronan simply nods and takes a seat, while Harper puts plates down in front of everyone. “You didn’t have to cook for us,” Ronan tells her. “We have a chef come in and precook a lot of food.”
“Good, because my skill set is pretty much limited to pancakes and pasta.”
“And fucking,” Cian boasts, shoving an entire pancake into his mouth.
Van snags Harper’s arm as she passes and pulls her into his body. He doesn’t even attempt to hide his hand squeezing her ass. “What’s your plans for today?”
“Sleep. I didn’t exactly get any last night,” she says, followed by a giggle.
“It’s not my fault you begged me to eat both your pussy and ass before I fucked you,” Cian says. “I’m down for some sleep.”
“Good,” Ronan says. “Van, you’re with me today.”
Van mumbles something under his breath.
“I have to pick up the girls and take them to a birthday party, some Build-a-Bear shit. Can’t I just pay Maddie or Reid to take them?” I gripe.
“No,” Harper says. “You need to bond with them, and you can’t do it while hiding behind babysitters. Plus, Maddie went to her mom’s yesterday, and Reid has the day off.”
I see Ronan pull his phone out, no doubt messaging Maddie. He worries too much about the girl; she isn’t his responsibility. He paid her father well when he worked for the family, and though he lost his life, her mother was well compensated, even if she has now wasted the money. Maddie refuses charity, and it’s why Ronan has secretly funded a scholarship for her to attend university, because she won’t touch the blood money she inherits when she turns twenty-one.
“Fine, but if someone dies, it’s not my fault.”
“You’re not killing anyone. The girls need to make friends, even if it’s with the filthy rich.”
I laugh. She can tell me not to kill anyone, but I make no promises.
Returning to The Range has been amazing. I never knew how much I needed to be around the friends I have made at work, but they have become such an important part of my life I don’t think I could live without them now.
Dylan struts into my new office and flops down into the chair opposite my desk. “How long do you think your babysitters will be here for?”
I chuckle at that. The Range has been reopened for two weeks, and every shift I am here, one of them is with me. “Honestly, most likely forever. They want me to feel safe.”
“They look at me like they want to kill me. Harp, I’m one sneeze away from death.”
“I will talk to them. How’s your night going?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“Good, I have a booking an hour. Oh, I remember why I came to find you . . . Cian is in the break room.”
I raise a brow at him, not understanding why that’s a problem—I know he and Cian get along.
Dylan laughs. “He may have told me to keep my mouth shut, so you didn’t hear it from me, but he is sawing his cast off with a serrated knife.”
“You could have led with that information.” I sigh and push out of my chair.
Dylan shrugs. “I had to give the man a fighting chance. He’s had a chopstick wedged down the thing all night, complaining it’s itchy. Also, if I’m honest, I want to see how gross his leg is underneath.”
Shaking my head at Dylan, I storm out of my office and up the hallway to the break room. As I push the door open, Cian looks up at me like a deer in headlights and smiles widely. His cast is ninety percent sawed through and he moves the knife a few more times, and it falls off.
“Seriously?” I ask, exasperated, and he nods.
“I’m done with it. I didn’t want it on in the first place and it was so fucking itchy. It wouldn’t be the first broken bone I’ve left to heal on its own.”
“Ew, gross,” Dylan says, moving past me and squatting down next to Cian. “And it smells so bad! Harper, come smell it.”
“No, thank you. Cian, let’s shower the funk off your leg in my office—people need to eat in here. Since you are so fascinated by it all, Dylan, you can take the cast outside to the garbage.”
