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“Hey, Loyal,” she greeted. “Do you know what happened?”
“Not really. Just that she showed up at the apartment at three o’clock in the morning because of the fire. She’s not exactly chatty with me, you know.”
“Whose fault is that?” his brother accused.
He ignored the flash of guilt the question sparked. “Whatever. I drove past the building earlier. There won’t be much to salvage, if anything.”
“I can’t believe this. I have to call her.”
“I don’t think she has a phone,” Loyal advised. “I didn’t see one last night, or this morning.”
“Then tell her to call us as soon as she gets it replaced.”
“I’m not going to see her. I told you I won’t be staying there. I already booked a hotel.”
“We can call the shop,” Honor said.
“Yeah, that’ll work,” Asher agreed. “I’ll let her know she can stay in the apartment as long as she needs. Or hell, she can even just move in.”
“That would make sense,” his fiancé said. “How come she never did that before? Seems like that would be ideal with her shop right below.”
“I offer every so often, but she’s funny about that stuff. She doesn’t want anyone to think she’s taking advantage of our friendship.”
Loyal shifted impatiently in his seat. He didn’t want to hear how noble and good Roxanna was. It clashed with his inner narrative and made him feel…kind of like an ass.
Frowning now, he asked, “Do you two need me for this conversation?”
“Not really,” Asher replied.
“Then I’m gonna go. I just got to the house for brunch.”
He waited for, Talk to you later, but instead he got silence.
Then Asher asked, “You’re going to brunch?” in a voice that was equally surprised and cautious.
Loyal frowned at his screen. “I always go to Sunday brunch when I’m home. Why wouldn’t I?”
No more than the question was out of his mouth, a rusty, red pick-up truck turned into the driveway behind his Land Rover. He glared at the rearview mirror as a flash of white-hot heat was followed by icy cold.
“Are you kidding me? What the fuck is he doing here?”
Chapter 5
Loyal slammed his door as Grayson Cole opened the one to his Ford F-250 truck. The red hunk of junk was an eyesore, like his half-brother. He hadn’t seen the guy since the day he and Asher had gone to meet him after the whole secret son/brother scandal erupted at the start of his father’s senatorial campaign five months ago in May.
After the DNA test their family had done confirmed he was indeed the result of his father’s one night stand thirty-one years ago, Loyal stayed in Texas except for Celia’s wedding in August. Thankfully, Grayson hadn’t gone to the wedding, because Loyal hadn’t wanted to see the guy then any more than he did now.
And yet, here they were.
When Grayson got out of his truck, his big female German Shepherd, Remy, leapt to the ground beside him. Loyal recalled the dog from their visit to his house and kept his distance. The animal sported an olive-green vest with an American flag patch on the left side, and second patch on the right proclaiming Service Dog. He didn’t remember her wearing that the last time.
Remy remained at Grayson’s side, and Loyal shifted his gaze to his half-brother. Looking at the guy was like looking at himself in a cheap mirror. He wore old jeans, scuffed army boots, and a tan T-shirt under an unbuttoned black and blue plaid flannel shirt.
Loyal adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt under his custom tailored sport coat as he growled, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Grayson shut his truck door and murmured a command that brought the dog up against his leg as he faced him squarely. “The same thing as you, I imagine.”
Last time they met the guy was all, “Get the fuck off my property before I call the cops.” Animosity still rang in his voice, but now they were on Loyal’s home turf. Much as he’d like to return the favor, more so he wanted to find out what was going on.
