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Brunch was always served after the last person arrived, and it appeared they’d been waiting for Grayson—who would’ve sat in his spot if he hadn’t shown up.

A spurt of jealousy flared at the thought of the guy taking over his seat at the table. In the family. The guy was older than him by about three months, so he’d already taken that position by default.

Loyal’s jaw clenched with irritation. It was childish to let any of it bother him. He didn’t doubt his parents’ love, and he didn’t want for anything financially, both because of a generous trust fund and his own hard work, so it wasn’t like Grayson could actually take anything away from him. Feeling insecure while not understanding why was extremely unsettling and annoying.

All along, he’d told himself he didn’t give a fuck, and yet here he was…discovering he gave a fuck.

And that pissed him off, because he didn’t want to give a fuck.

His father quieted the side conversations for a quick prayer to bless the meal and those eating it, and then his mother officially started brunch by passing the first dish—to Grayson.

“Why didn’t you stay here last night, Loyal?” His mom caught his eye as she lifted a second plate piled high with bacon and sausage. “You know I hate the thought of you in a hotel.”

“I’m using Asher’s apartment,” he fibbed. He had used it last night, he just wasn’t going to use it anymore. Which meant he’d be looking for his own place sooner than later, so when his mom found out he’d moved to a hotel, she wouldn’t badger the heck out of him. She didn’t understand his aversion to moving back into the family home at thirty years old, but it wasn’t going to happen.

“Is this it then?” Shelby asked. “No more Texas?”

“Yeah. Uncle Matt’s audit is all wrapped up, and I wanted to come back before election night. As soon as I find my own place, I’ll have my things shipped back.”

He thought he heard a snort from Grayson’s corner of the table, and when he cut his gaze to the guy, he was shaking his head with a smirk. Loyal ignored him. A person didn’t have to be rich or privileged to pay a moving company. He was providing someone with a job, and they were earning a damn good wage for their work. Same as he did for his own job.

“We’re thrilled you’re finally home,” his mom said.

“What are you doing for a job?” Grandpa Ira asked gruffly. “Don’t forget, idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

Loyal gave a soft snort and arched his brows at his brother next to him.

“Don’t look at me,” Merit brushed him off. “I keep my hands plenty busy.”

His emphasis on plenty made Robert choke on a laugh. Celia elbowed him in the ribs as Grandpa guffawed, Dad frowned, and Mom sighed.

Well, his youngest brother did keep his hands busy—with a different girl each week. Or so he’d heard.

When he noticed the others watching him, Merit huffed out a sigh. “Why do you guys always try and turn this on me? Grandpa asked Loyal the question.”

Noticing Grayson’s judgmental gaze taking everything in, Loyal took pity on his youngest brother and turned it back on himself. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, Grandpa. I’ve been kicking around the idea of starting my own accounting firm. After the last couple of years, though, I’m going to take it easy at first. Maybe start with a select few clients.”

Across the table on the corner, his half-brother’s knuckles turned white as his hand gripped his fork. His glare was full of resentment, and Loyal could guess why. He’d hired a private investigator to look into the guy back in May, and knew since getting out of the military, Grayson worked odd jobs and barely scraped by most months.

But that wasn’t his fault, was it?

At the head of the table, his dad cleared his throat. “You know, this move of yours has come at a very opportune time.”

His muscles tensed, and he fought to keep his expression impassive as he warned, “I have my own plan, Dad, and politics don’t figure into it. I’m going to register to vote so I can get my ballot in, and that’s it.”

“Don’t worry, Loyal. I gave up on my sons following in my footsteps a long time ago.”

His shoulders relaxed, until he noticed the sideways glance his dad cast toward Grayson. He narrowed his gaze as his pulse ticked up with a resurgence of resentment. Wouldn’t that just take the cake if his new son decided to step up to the political plate where he, Asher, and Merit had refused.

His dad set his silverware down on the edge of his plate, then sat up straighter as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Grayson and I have been discussing starting up a foundation for our veterans.”

“So he said outside,” Loyal commented tightly.

“I think that’s awesome,” Shelby chimed in.

Loyal noticed their mom lay her hand on his baby sister’s arm and give a light squeeze. His sister pressed her lips together and sat back in her chair.

What the hell was that about?

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