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I know Kevin went to her place this morning to collect the milk because I have already spoken to his mom. As a token of appreciation, I had Lacy take up a few bags of groceries to help her and the kids out for the next few weeks. The local church assists her out with these things, but I try to support where I can.
Now walking around the warehouse at the distillery, Iam waiting for Connor who came back this morning to go over our stock for the month. I scroll through Victoria’s social media, looking at image after image, seeing her ideas come to life. She is talented, there is no doubt. Why she hasn’t been working in this area of interior design, I have no idea.
I spot a new photo on her social media from this morning of her foot elevated, resting on the arm of the sofa. I feel the stress leave my shoulders a little, knowing that she at least got downstairs safely this morning. When I double-click the image, a heart pops up on the screen, then I follow her page.Isn’t that what kids do these days?
“Why are you on social media?” Connor asks from over my shoulder, and I jump so high my cell almost flies from my hand.
“Dammit, Connor,” I growl at him, although not upset, just surprised.
“What are you doing?” he presses, eyebrow quirked as he tries to peek at what’s on my phone.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, then close the screen and pocket my cell.
“Who are you following? You hate social media.” His eyes thin in question.
“No one.” I wasn’t about to text her… see if she needed anything.
“Bullshit,” Connor says, walking in front of me with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Don’t speak to your father like that,” a new voice says jovially, and we look to the side to see Huxley, Hudson’s brother and our longtime family friend, strolling into thewarehouse. He spends a lot of his time in Baltimore these days, but we are happy to have him back in town.
“Like he said,” I tell Connor, smiling. I love my son, but now that we are both older, we are even better friends.
“Are you texting a woman?” Huxley pins me with his gaze as he walks over to where we are standing. Shaking hands, he backslaps Connor, the two of them friends since they could walk.
“No!” I huff as I shake his hand in greeting and hug him just the same. Since he married the love of his life, Lucy Bloomer, here in Whispers, he and Lucy have become a regular local couple and spend as much time in Whispers as they can at his ranch on the outskirts of town. The luxurious ranches of the many wealthy people who come here are spread all around Whispers. I have a vacant plot ready for building, on what locals call Billionaire Boulevard, but I prefer to live here, close to town, in my home at the back of the distillery, right where I need to be. Connor has built his own place, also on distillery land near mine. This is our home, always will be.
“He is just looking at her social media,” Connor teases.
“Holy shit. Who is she?” Huxley asks, pulling back and looking at me in shock.
“No one,” I tell them both as Connor smirks my way and Huxley looks dumbfounded.
“From Whispers? Who is it? I know everyone in Whispers.” Huxley continues trying to get it out of me. He doesn't knoweveryone.
“None of your business,” I say, just as Connor says, “Our new neighbor.” That earns him scowl.
“You know you can have a girlfriend, Dad. I have been waiting for the day that you actually commit to someone.” Connor’s smile doesn’t waver.
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I reiterate, but they don’t care. By the looks on their faces, they are having a fucking field day.
“Who’s the new neighbor?” Huxley asks, his interest now fully piqued.
“Hudson didn’t tell you?” Connor says, and the two of them start talking all about Victoria like I am not even here.
“My brother hasn’t mentioned her…”
I am surprised by that, because Huxley and Hudson are joined at the hip, the two of them always meeting here as one lives on the East Coast and one on the West Coast.
“She is from the city, lives in Marie’s old place. Her niece,” Connor says. “I think Dad likes her…”
“She is half my fucking age.” Although the visions of Victoria practically naked at my feet last night are still very vivid, regardless of our age difference.
“So?” Huxley asks, and I’m already shaking my head.
“That’s what I said. Age is just a number.” Connor gives me anI told you solook.
“I mean… you will need someone to wheel around your wheelchair soon,” Huxley jokes, and I roll my eyes.
