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Unless you’re gonna train her replacement, stop fucking my servers.
He texts me back, and after reading it, I shove my phone in my pocket like it burned me.
Lochlan:
Don’t be jealous. I’d much rather it was you.
1. Play “Creepin’” by xryce
Chapter 2
Family First
Stella
“ Don’t forget the flowers!” Cash hollers after Lochlan, who dashes back to the office at the Den to grab a bouquet of pink and orange roses.
“Okay, now I’m ready,” he says to me. “I’m parked out front.”
He falls in stride next to me as we walk through the dining area, passing Veronica subbing in at the hostess stand. I watch out of the corner of my eye as he slows down and tilts his head slightly, dragging his gaze up and down her body as we pass. Her cheeks pinch like she’s fighting back a smile. She meets my eyes and quickly looks down to shuffle some menus. She doesn’t know that I couldn’t care less who she fucks, especially if it’s Lochlan.
One drunken fuck doesn’t change that.
As we step outside, I remind him with a light laugh, “When you break that poor girl’s heart and she quits, I swear to god, I’m putting you on doubles until I have a replacement.”
The sky is a vibrant purple and copper on this mild summer evening, and it’s a short walk to Lochlan’s truck. “Thanks for the ride, by the way,” I say, climbing into the cab.
“Of course. Though I don’t know why you won’t just let Cash buy you a new car.”
“I like my car,” I protest. “And it’s not broken, just needs a little TLC.”
“Either way, I don’t mind being your chauffeur until it’s fixed,” he says genuinely. Placing his tattooed arm on the back of my seat, he looks over his shoulder while backing up.
Once we’re on the road, he asks, “So, how was your date last night?” I think I pick up on a forced unconcerned tone but can’t be sure.
“Oh,” I scoff, sure I was imagining it anyway. “He canceled last minute—forgot he had plans to watch the game with his bros. His words, not mine.”
“The fucker wasn’t good enough for you anyway,” he says all too casually, but his jaw clenches. I eye him suspiciously, trying to determine whether that was a generalized statement or if, against my wishes, he looked him up anyway. Despite the quick tensing of his jaw, he doesn’t give anything away, eyes cool and calm on the road.
When we arrive at my grandparents’ home for our weekly family dinner, cars are double and triple parked in their driveway. Lochlan parks down the street and gets out to walk with me down the middle of the slow residential road. The sky in front of us is now an inky blue, the moon bright and full.
“Are you staying for dinner?” I ask as we head down the brick path that cuts through their lawn and note the neatly trimmed edges.
“I wish, but I have a meeting later.” He sighs then adds enthusiastically, “I’ll pick you back up after though.”
“Don’t worry, Ruby will give me a ride home.” He looks down at me with a raised brow and I loop my arm in his, answering his silent question with a small laugh. “Yes, I’m sure.”
The air smells like wet grass and gasoline. My grandpa takes his lawn very seriously. My mom used to send me and my siblings over on the weekends to help as kids, but he always ended up taking over because we would rather play in the sprinklers than learn how to perfectly weed whack along the curb.
Stepping up to the door, I can already hear the boisterous laughter and conversation inside. Their ranch-style home can fit way more people than you’d think, like the physical manifestation of a heart overflowing with love. Between aunts and uncles, cousins and their kids, my siblings and their kids, there’s at least twenty-five people.
Family has always been the most important thing in my life. Generations sticking together, seeing each other often. My cousins are like siblings. Maybe that’s why I fit right in with the Foxes.
Before knocking, I turn to Lochlan and take in his casual jeans and loose linen short-sleeve shirt, unbuttoned nearly to his navel, with two silver chains hanging against his chest. His ruffled long hair is all over the place after driving with the windows down.
“Hmm.” I scrutinize him before buttoning up his shirt almost all the way, my fingertips grazing his hot skin. Then I run my fingers through his hair, containing it a little more, tucking it behind his ears. He dutifully stands there with nothing more than a ghost of a smile and lets me fuss over him. His eyes look distant though, like he’s remembering the last time I had my fingers in his hair. How he moaned my name and how crazy I made him. How crazy he made me.
I try to clear my head of the hungry sound with a swallow. “Now, you’re appropriate for Nana.”
