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Again, I try not to flinch at the word home. The truth is, Santa Monica is his home now.
“I’m glad you’re staying…not just because of me, but for East. I think he needs you more than he’ll ever admit.” I think all three of the Swift brothers do. I touch his foot with mine. “And you don’t have to get a hotel room, dumbass. You can stay with me tonight. It’s a big sacrifice, but I’m willing to make it for you.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s terrible having to share a house with me. I don’t know how you’re going to survive it,” he teases back, then nudges my foot too, only Morgan leaves his there, close and resting against mine. “I might not deserve you, but I sure as hell am thankful for you. Every day. Even while I was gone, Dust.”
He doesn’t understand what words like that do to me. The way they pump blood through my heart, making it swell and grow.
Making me hope.
“You deserve me. You’ve never seen yourself as clearly as I see you. You deserve the whole damn world if you want it.”
Morgan doesn’t reply, but he drops his head against my shoulder and doesn’t lift it for a long damn time.
CHAPTER NINE
Morgan
We finish eating, and then Dusty gets up to start working again. I would have no trouble continuing, but I think about the fact that he’s been working all day and hasn’t been home since this morning. He looks beat. He has to be exhausted.
“That’s good for tonight. We should get you home to get some rest. You’ve had a long day.”
Dusty stretches, arms in the air and his shirt lifting enough to show me a sliver of his golden-skinned belly. My eyes dart away before taking it in too much. Dusty has always been fucking gorgeous. I remember looking at him when we were young, before I had my sexuality figured out, and the tingle that always swam around in my gut…the way my skin would flush sometimes, and I didn’t understand why. The older I got, I realized I was attracted to my best friend in ways Rhett and other guys talked about being into girls. We were so damn close, almost inseparable, so how could he not have been part of my sexual awakening?
Eventually, we both came out, having told each other first, and I learned to tame my attraction to him because Dusty was my whole damn world and what if I was like my dad? What if I loved him as strongly as he loved Mom? Plus, we had the twins, of course, and I was too busy to worry about boyfriends and shit like that. I’d hooked up and nothing more, but I would never have risked that with Dusty.
Something about him now feels different to me, makes my gaze want to linger, to soak him in more, like I have to retrain myself to stifle my attraction to him. Wanting him would be dangerous. As much as I wanted to leave when I was younger, as much as I needed it, I don’t know if I could have left him if I hadn’t seen him kissing Rhett.
And I fear I would have resented him for it, which probably isn’t fair. It wouldn’t have been his fault, but sometimes those feelings don’t care about fair or not.
A shop towel hits me in the face. “Why are you staring at me?”
I shake it off. “Sorry. Spacing out, I guess.”
“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs to get some rest.”
We put everything away, Dusty turns on the shop’s alarm, and then we lock up and leave.
“You want to follow me to my place, or should I give you my address?” He heads toward what I assume is his Jeep Wrangler.
Shit. I don’t even know where Dusty lives. The thought hits me out of the blue. How did I let it get so bad that I don’t even know where Dusty lives?
The image of him with his lips on Rhett’s fills my head, makes my damn skin crawl.
“Why do you look pissed?”
“I’m not.” He cocks a brow, and I roll my eyes. “Pissed isn’t the right word. More like…sad. Let’s just go home, Dust. I’ll follow you.”
He watches me, wheels clearly spinning in his head, then nods. “Okay. Let’s go home.”
I climb into my rental and follow Dusty through downtown Birchbark, then down Waterfall Road, which leads out of town. About ten minutes later, he’s pulling down a driveway on a rural, secluded road, to a white house with a detached, three-car garage, which I have no doubt is where Dusty works on cars at home.
I don’t know why, but Rob flashes into my head. He would hate a place like this and would have chosen a hotel over staying here with Dusty, but damn, does it look perfect to me. And I know it’s perfect for Dust.
I park beside him and get out. It’s about ten. The sun only went down about half an hour ago, so it’s not pitch-black out yet. My feet move in a circle as I take in Dusty’s property, the army of trees around us, the sugar maples he always smells like.
“This is yours?” I ask.
“That’s what they say, but I’m not sure the bank would agree.” Dusty chuckles. “I know it’s probably not what you’re used to, but it’s perfect for me. This is home. It’ll always be home.”
