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That wasn’t love.
“May I have another garlic knot, please?” I asked.
“Take as many as you want.” Archie slid the bread basket closer.
“Thank you so much.” I grabbed three more.
Best meal I’d had in ages. Half the table was filled, almost, with dishes they’d had for dinner and lunch all week. Roasted potatoes, rice, pasta, chicken, schnitzel, one pot of really delicious tomato soup with spicy sausage, and a couple casseroles.
I yelped with my mouth full of bread when Bandit nipped at my toes, so I quickly pulled up my legs and crossed them under the table.
“Rex, Odin,” Greer summoned.
I watched with great amusement and wonder as the two alpha dogs arrived and ushered Bandit toward the hallway. Talk about discipline!
“You’re one scary Master, Sir,” I said with a grin.
He winked at me from across the table and shoveled some food into his mouth.
Not that the table separating us meant I was safe. I had Sloan next to me, and he’d showered after his walk with Odin and Bandit. So now he was sitting there in just a pair of jeans and a bunch of tattoos.
I eyed them on the sly, ’cause I was slick that way.
The one along his left side had to be dedicated to Greer. I’d heard Sloan call him Shep and Shepherd, and the man in the shadows in that tattoo was for sure a shepherd. He was also holding a combat helmet, and Greer was a Marine.
Music seemed to be the theme for his sleeve. Music and old cars and his children.
They’d been drawn with stunning details and flawless shadow work.
“I think Corey has questions about your ink, sweetheart.”
Fuck. Greer had caught me. Smug bastard.
“Hmm?” Sloan looked around, having been immersed in his food, glancing down at his body.
“Corey is an illustrator,” Archie supplied.
“Oh yeah?” That had Sloan’s interest.
I didn’t wanna talk about it.
“Yeah, I guess.” I shrugged and popped another garlic knot into my mouth. “If you drew those yourself, you’re crazy good, Sir.”
He smiled. “Thank you. What kind of illustrations do you work with?”
“Nothing interesting or challenging,” I assured. “But if it pays the bills, it pays the bills. I hope to do my own comic strip one day. And graphic novels. I wanna do graphic novels. And I guess I could start in my spare time, but I’m a teensy bit lazy.”
He chuckled.
“Oh no, he said the L-word,” Archie bemoaned playfully.
“Yeah, we can do something about laziness out here, boy,” Greer commented.
Pardon?
Sloan cleared his throat and gave Greer a pointed look. “Maybe we should talk to Corey about that other thing before we give him a list of chores.”
What other thing?
What chores? I wanted chores! Chores meant I could contribute and be part of something and keep busy and feel productive.
“You’re right.” Greer inclined his head and faced me. “I met up with the other founding members this morning after Reese called. We have a shit-ton of work ahead of us, so we’ve already started. And included in our duties is the responsibility toward our members, for which we’ve appointed Lucas and Lucian to be in charge. Lucas started last night—maybe you remember he sent a text to every member who wasn’t present at the fire.”
I nodded hesitantly. I remembered Sloan mentioning it. Like a roll call—a text to inform about the fire and to ask members to check in.
“In that message, Lucas assured everyone no one had been injured seriously,” Greer went on. “But is that enough not to reach out? Because you haven’t talked to Marcus yet, have you?”
I shook my head. “But I haven’t told him…” I trailed off when the obvious smacked me in the face. Oh fuck. I didn’t have to tell him about the fire because Mr. West had already done that. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
I shrank in on myself and hugged my middle as worry tightened my stomach.
“Shep asked Lucas specifically if Marcus had confirmed reading the message,” Sloan murmured. “He did. Marcus responded shortly after the text went out.”
Crap, crap, crap. “I have to call him,” I mumbled. I had to call him right now. “He’s going to be so mad I didn’t tell him sooner.”
I scooted back my chair, but before I could stand up, Sloan cautioned me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“We want you to think this through, sweetheart,” Greer said patiently. “If someone you care for is in an accident or even close to a place where something’s happened, what do you do?”
I knew what he was getting at, but it wasn’t the same. “I reach out to make sure they’re all right and to see if there’s anything I can do, and I get it—I get what you’re saying, but I have a history of not letting him know things in time. I forget. Especially if I’m excited about something. I just rush ahead with a new project at work and forget to tell him about it till much, much later. Or if I’m making plans with my cousin to hang out and I forget to tell Marcus. So, like, right now…? He’s waiting for me to call.”
