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I tore into the parking spot next to the truck, killed the engine, disconnected my phone—fuck yeah, eighty-four percent battery—and gathered my trash. Then I rushed out to start unloading the car.
Yikes. I’d bought seven of those extra-large reusable bags, and they were packed to the max. Plus, tons of soda and beer.
I grabbed one bag and a case of beer, and I was greeted by Buddy and Beast at the gate.
“Hi, my babies. I bought treats for you too, I promise.” I grunted and pushed through the gate. “No jumping, no jumping, please. We’ll wrestle soon.”
Funnily enough, I saw Greer and Sloan drinking the very beer I’d just bought, so that was good! I’d bought a few kinds just to be sure.
Oh. They were smoking cigars too. How strange and weirdly sexy.
Like, bizarrely fucking sexy. Greer quirked a brow at me and looked a little amused, and at the same time, he took a puff from the cigar. Hot, hot, hot.
“What on earth…?” Sloan rose from his chair and hurried to meet me down the porch steps.
“Yeah, I did a thing,” I grunted. “You don’t have to help, Sir. Go sit down.”
“No, I’m fairly certain I decide for myself what to do, subbie.” Oh, he was gonna play the Dom card. Okay, then.
“I’ll go get the rest.” I blew out a heavy breath.
“There’s more?” Sloan asked, surprised.
“Uhh…” I chuckled.
When I walked away from the porch, I was hit by a cold wind that made me think back. The porch had been warmer. Greer and Sloan weren’t wearing anything more than jeans and hoodies. They must have heaters on.
By the time I reached the car again, both Greer and Sloan were walking toward me.
“You don’t have to help!” I grated out.
“We know,” Greer mimicked. “We don’t feel forced either. We just wanna know what you’ve been up to.”
I huffed and grabbed two bags this time.
“Jesus.” Sloan was the first to peer into the car.
Greer was next. “Kid, are you organizing a food drive?”
“It’s just some things!” I hollered over my shoulder.
This was a great workout. I huffed and puffed all the way up the porch, only to notice the D-types were helping after all! Man! I’d told them… They carried so much more than I could too. Greer lugged two bags and two cases of beer up the path, and Sloan had stacked all the soda and the rest of the beer in his arms.
“This wasn’t supposed to turn into a muscle contest,” I muttered.
“An explanation for all this would be great, pet.” Greer set the bags on the porch.
“This is the deal.” I shrugged. “If you want me to really be able to relax, a couple chores aren’t enough. I gotta contribute.”
Greer furrowed his brow. “You’re our guest, Corey. We’re not expecting anything in return.”
“Yeah, you really didn’t have to do this, sweetheart.” Sloan looked more concerned than anything.
I scratched my nose and hopped down the porch steps. “I know. I didn’t feel forced either.”
Greer narrowed his eyes at me. “Did you just use a Dom’s words against him? When did that ever work?”
“Won’t stop me from trying!” I grinned and ran away from them. If my math was correct, two bags remained.
Back at the car, I made sure I hadn’t gotten any stains or crumbs all over, and I readjusted the seat since Archie was a few inches taller than me. Then I grabbed the last of my findings and hurried toward the porch.
While Greer had resumed his spot at the table with his drink and cigar, Sloan was carrying bags into the kitchen.
“Come sit with me for a moment,” Greer said.
I paused in the doorway and squinted. “But the bags… I bought so much sausage and chicken and steak, and I’m thinking they’ll go in the freezer.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Sloan and Archie will take care of it. I wanna talk to you.”
Had I done something wrong? Oh God, had I overstepped an invisible boundary I didn’t know about?
I swallowed nervously and set down the bags, then went over to the table and took my seat across from him.
Sloan’s abandoned cigar was still a teensy bit lit.
“Did I do something wrong, Sir?” I unzipped my windbreaker. Or Jason’s windbreaker, I should say. Evidently, we were the same size, which the others had found funny.
“Yeah, you automatically worry you’ve done something wrong.” Greer leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “Do you feel like you can trust me, Corey? Listen to what your gut says.”
My gut was hungry.
I shifted in my seat, knowing that wasn’t the answer he wanted.
“Yes? I mean, yeah. I do.” Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to relax so quickly around Sloan. “Trusting your judgment was kinda my ticket to assuming your partners are good guys.”
He chuckled quietly. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad. But then maybe you can also trust me when I say we want you here, pet. We want to help you get back on your feet. You’re out-of-this-world sweet for taking on chores and apparently stocking our pantry and freezer, but it’s really not necessary. You don’t owe us a damn thing.”
