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“That,” Lydia said, nodding, “is true.”
“I can’t wait to burn his ass to the ground after Dad retires and we take over.”
“Wow,” Zann noted dryly. “Guy sounds like a real winner.”
“He is honestly the worst,” Lydia confirmed. “Like, just your typical, spoiled white man who thinks the world revolves around him. His father wasn’t a bad guy, I actually quite liked him, but after Frank passed and Mark took over, things went to shit. But because dad was friends with Frank, he’s convinced he can try to save the thing.”
“It’s stupid,” Jon muttered.
“Sounds like it,” Zann agreed.
Lydia hummed encouragingly when Zann’s hand on the small of her back slipped beneath the hem of her shirt and began scratching back and forth along the waistline of her jeans. “That feels good.”
Zann pressed a smile of a kiss to her forehead. “Good.”
“Nuh-uh-uh,” Jon clucked. “Hands where I can see them, Silva.”
“Like this?” Zann replied playfully, and Lydia laughed when the hand on her lower back returned to its previous position on her ass.
“Like, the opposite of that,” Jon deadpanned, his thoroughly unimpressed tone tinged with amusement. “Seriously, though. Do you guys need anything else? I promised Lily that I’d grab dinner on my way home, so if you’re as done for the day as you’re looking right now, I’ll get out of your hair.”
“I think we’re good,” Lydia told him. The movers had assembled their furniture before they’d left, so all that was left was the minutiae of unpacking and figuring out where everything would go. She groaned and patted Zann’s chest. “Stay. I’ll walk him out,” she said as she rolled off her. She stretched her arms over her head and smiled tiredly at her brother. “I know I was just giving you shit, but thank you for helping today.”
Jon grinned. “Yeah,” he groaned as he heaved himself off the sofa. “Any time, Lyds. You know that.”
“Jonny,” Zann called, holding out a hand. “Thanks, dude. Setting up my office would’ve taken forever without your help.”
“My pleasure,” Jon said, and Lydia’s heart squeezed as he leaned down to slap Zann’s hand. “Oh, and good luck with that thing we were talking about earlier.”
Lydia arched a brow. Thing?
“You are such an asshole,” Zann laughed. “Get out of here.”
“Hey! I’m on your side!” Jon protested, smirking and holding his arms up as he began walking backward toward the gallery that acted as a hub between the bedrooms at the back of the condo and the kitchen, dining, and living rooms.
“Do I want to know?” Lydia asked Zann as she half-turned to follow him.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Jon answered from behind her, sounding impishly pleased with himself.
Zann laughed and flipped him off as she rolled to a sitting position. “Good night, Jon.”
“Good night,” he replied in a saccharine, sing-song voice. “I’m rooting for you, Zee.”
“Fuck off, Jon!”
Lydia rolled her eyes at their antics. “I’ll be right back,” she told Zann.
Zann nodded and blew her a kiss. “I’ll be here.”
Lydia touched two fingers to her lips and then turned them to Zann, and smiled as she went to find her brother. She found him sitting on one of the narrow, upholstered chairs in the foyer, putting his shoes on.
“So…” She crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned against the wall opposite him. “What was that about?”
“No idea what you mean.” Jon finished tying his laces and winked at her as he pushed to his feet. “You guys are coming to Rachel’s party on Sunday, right?”
Lydia arched a brow at him. “Is there a reason we’d miss our niece’s birthday party?”
“I love that you consider her your,” he stressed, wagging a finger from Lydia to the living room where they’d left Zann, “niece.”
