Page 41 of Carver’s Craving

“Is this where we share our heartfelt secrets?” I observed everyone, making fun of the cozy scene because I liked it a bit too much.

“This is where I ask you how you feel about pineapple with your ham.” Ryan grinned.

“Gross.” Carver. In no uncertain terms. “Oops. That was rude. Of course I’ll eat whatever you prepared. And with gratitude.”

“Oh honey, that’s not necessary.” I winked. “I’ll eat yours.”

And we were off.

Chapter Eleven

Carver

Despite the inauspicious beginning, dinner turned out to be a jovial affair.

Ryan did share some secrets. He talked quite a bit about his time as a soldier in Ukraine. And then, once he realized Styx knew how to be serious about serious things, about his injury. About his despair of the war ever ending.

The expressions on Simeon’s face ranged from distressed to empathetic to proud. That pride shone through and he even ventured a few words of praise. Which, of course, Ryan deflected.

Styx overshared about everything—except Frank’s death. He didn’t shy away from talking about Dyre Crossing. Which meant our hosts could search the band once we left.

As I drove to work the next morning, I could admit I’d had a good time. Not that I’d ever say such a thing to Styx. He had to understand that manipulation was wrong—under all circumstances. Yes, we’d enjoyed a delicious meal with wonderful company. Sure, the dogs had enjoyed their treat of ham. Hell, even I’d relaxed at one point and talked a bit about work and the folks I’d grown close to.

None of that made up for the fact I wouldn’t have accepted the invitation in the first place.

I parked on the street across from the construction site and eyed the sky. Damn well cold enough for snow—just hard to say if we’d actually get it. My job today was to recheck all the scaffolding and then help with the exterior work on the building. Easy enough—if my hands and balls didn’t fall off from the cold.

A knock on my passenger side window caught me off guard.

Foster waved, pointed to the building we were working on, and then sauntered across the street to the site.

I loved my boss. He was truly one of the best men I’d ever met. His meticulousness aided my stress about potential accidents. We did our utmost to ensure nothing bad happened. He ran a tight ship—but was also good with folks taking time off if they were sick or something. He trusted his people—but verified everything. No inspector would step foot on the site to sign off on something until everything was perfect. We always passed safety inspections.

After I grabbed my lunch bag, I exited my SUV, set the alarm, and headed to the site.

Foster stood scanning the building, clearly taking in where we were and envisioning where we needed to go.

We shared the same dark skin and shaved head. Both of our bald pates were covered by toques on this frigid morning. We were also about the same height, and both had muscles from physical labor for so many years.

“You have a good weekend?” Foster’s voice was a little slow—and then he yawned.

“Great. Yours? You look…tired.” I tried to never comment on people’s looks—unless, apparently, I was telling Styx he was fine. Sheesh. Never going to live that one down.

Foster yawned again. “Malika had a rough night. I was so excited, along with Arnav, when Joshua started sleeping through the night. Malika still has nightmares, though.”

“That’s rough. How old are they now?”

“Malika’s nine and Joshua’s about to turn two.” He rubbed his forehead. “She remembers their mom. And what came before they arrived at our house. Joshua, obviously, is clueless. He still underwent upheaval though. So much in their short lives.” He winced. “We try to make it better, you know?” He swallowed. “Even with a husband for a lawyer, we can’t speed up the adoption process. I think Malika’s old enough to understand what this all means. And how a piece of paper means so much security. She’s still seeing a psychologist up at Healing Horses Ranch. Even after all this time, though, she’s not finished fighting her demons.”

“That’s gotta be rough.” And this made me all the more grateful I didn’t have kids. Some days I could barely keep my own shit together. I couldn’t imagine being responsible for not one, but two other souls.

“I love them. It’s as simple as that.”

“What’s simple?” Lorcan joined us. “It’s looking really good. You were thinking we might be done by Christmas? It’ll be a push, but I think it’s possible.” The man’s dark-brown hair had a bit more gray than when I’d met him a year ago. I would’ve been hard-pressed to find anything he didn’t know about construction. He used to own his own firm before his first husband fucked off with all their money. Lorcan wasn’t shy about sharing that story. Or about how he turned his life around, thanks to Foster’s husband Arnav—his lawyer. And then, in the end, Foster as well.

Foster smiled. “I think so. How’s Cody?”

“Tired. We both are. We’re fostering another litter of kittens. They’re four weeks old, and so they don’t need round-the-clock bottle feedings. I don’t know how Cody managed in those early weeks.” Lorcan nudged Foster. “Although not quite the same stakes as having kids.”