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He crossed his arms and braced his feet shoulder width apart. “I’m here to eat brunch and enjoy time with my family.” The guy’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit at his emphasis on my, and he tilted his head slightly. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with us pretentious pricks?”
“Your father is setting up a foundation for veterans. We’re going over some of the details today.”
Your father, not our. Loyal lifted his eyebrows at that distinction as well as the news he’d revealed. “So much for not wanting our money.”
“If it helps my brothers who fought for your freedom to sit here on your privileged high horse in your gilded little castle, yeah, I’ll take the fucking money.”
“You don’t know shit about me,” he ground out.
Grayson simply shrugged as if he didn’t care one way or the other. They stood in silence for a long moment, until a light whine from the dog drew Loyal’s gaze down. When he looked up again, his half-brother arched his brow.
“So, what’s the deal here?” Grayson asked. “You gonna try to keep me from going in or what?”
He clenched his fingers on his biceps at the word try. Of course the asshole could be cocky with a guard dog at his side. He’d love to lay him out right here in the driveway, but even if he managed to get one good swing in, he doubted the dog would let him get any further than that.
Much as Loyal would prefer to walk ahead of him and show him this was his territory, the idea of that damn dog at his back made the hair on the nape of his neck tingle. He stepped back and to the side for Grayson to go first, then followed him and the German Shepherd.
They stopped at the formal entrance, and Loyal shouldered by on the opposite side of the dog to open the door. He stood aside, and Remy swept through to do a swift recon of the foyer, then circled around to his half-brot
her’s side as the guy stepped inside.
Grayson murmured, “Good girl,” the dog nudged his hand, and then the two of them went through to the family dining room where everyone was likely waiting, leaving Loyal to close the door.
His jaw clenched with the realization they’d been there before. But the guy didn’t belong here, that much was obvious just by looking at him. Did his dad realize he was only there for the money?
Their family gave generously to support the veterans in any way they could, but much of it was done anonymously. His dad always said he wanted the political work he did to benefit the people to stand on its own merit. He didn’t seek out big donation photo ops, because he didn’t need or want to buy his way into the hearts of the voters.
But all of a sudden he was going to set up a foundation for veterans? What the hell was that all about? He didn’t want to buy votes, but he was okay with buying his son?
And why in the hell is this the first I’m hearing about any of this?
He hung back at the dining room entrance and watched his mom and dad greet his unwanted half-brother without a word about the dog at his side. Dogs weren’t allowed in the house when they were growing up—or now. They stayed in their luxury kennels in the stables and enjoyed the run of the grounds.
Father and son exchanged a very brief, businesslike handshake, while his mom pulled him close with a tight hug, giving the guy the same treatment she’d give any of her own children currently sitting silently at the table. Loyal was amazed at her capacity to forgive. Back in May, he’d been convinced his parents would divorce over Grayson, and here she was five months later, embracing him and welcoming him into the family with a warm smile.
Her eyes widened when he caught her gaze over the guy’s shoulder.
“Loyal!” She stepped around the German Shepherd and hurried across the room. “I didn’t know you were home.”
He met her halfway. “I got in late last night.”
As she hugged him, he noted with some surprise she was wearing jeans. Granted, he hadn’t been around much the past six years, but all his life, his mother dressed in the latest fashions that did not include denim, especially for Sunday brunch. He stepped back and turned to face his dad—also in jeans instead of his customary business casual.
What the hell?
There was a strange pause before he and his father moved in for a one second half-hug and back slap. His chest tightened at the awkwardness. Why the caution on his dad’s face? Did he feel bad about showing his usual affection in front of Grayson after their formal greeting?
After they stepped apart, he made his way around the room to hug Grandpa Ira and Grandma Irene. His sister, Celia, also got a hug, but he shook hands with her husband, Robert. They were newlyweds after first postponing the wedding because of the family scandal, then rushing to rebook everything.
His baby sister, Shelby, added a kiss on his cheek with her hug, while his youngest brother, Merit, stood to offer a hand clasp, shoulder bump, and slap on the back.
“Loyal.” He uttered his name like an insult, even as he grinned his welcome.
“Mooch.”
For as many times as he’d used the nickname with animosity, today he injected a note of genuine affection. The Diamond siblings—true Diamond siblings—had to stick together.
As he pulled out the empty chair at his usual spot, he noticed his dad carrying a chair over from the corner of the room while his mom hurried to get another place setting from the side china hutch. She directed Grayson to the new seat just as the weekend staffers carried in brunch dishes from the kitchen. Remy lay down beside her owner’s chair when he sat.
