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“Now that my brother has stolen my thunder,” Nate says, turning in his chair to face me, “you’re invited.”
“Grand opening for VIPs and family only,” Archer supplies.
“Sounds fancy. I have just the shoes for it.” I don’t have to turn my head to feel Nate’s approving smile.
An hour later, we’re in his Tesla when he turns from the restaurant’s parking lot. “You did well in there.”
“No thanks to you. You not only surprised me with your brothers, but you sprang parents on me too.”
“The Owens are—”
“Good guys. I know, I know.” I consider the easy conversation and the way Will listened when his sons spoke. “They’re supportive of you. All of you.”
“They are.”
“They don’t seem to favor Archer, even though he’s their biological son. It must bother him.” It’d have to, wouldn’t it? I was overlooked by my parents for years, for reasons other than adopted siblings, but it’d have to feel similar.
“I’m not going to say Arch didn’t have his share of teenage angst, and God knows I came to that house resisting stability. But, we adjusted. We’ve had a lot of years to learn who we are—all of us. It’s not wrinkle-free, no matter how well-adjusted we seem, but Ben and Arch, and the Owens, have my back.”
“And you have theirs.”
“Yes.”
“I smell white knight syndrome,” I tease.
“I like to think of it as a savior complex. But if you find a dragon you want me to slay, baby, say the word.” His murmured “baby” coils around my heart and squeezes. He takes my hand, resting our linked hands on my leg. Our interwoven fingers are an attractive sight, his thick digits and my narrow, slender ones. His blunt, wide nails and my painted pink ones.
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asks.
“Go home. Check on Walt. House chores. The usual weekend things.”
He’s already shaking his head. “That’s no good.”
“Why not?” I ask through a laugh.
“I want you to come home with me. Which is fucked-up, Vivian.” He slants me a look hinting he’s only half kidding. “I like living alone. I like to work. I usually go to a job site on weekends and stay up too late agonizing over details to ensure we’re done on time or early. Then came you.”
He’s too much. I’m flattered. I can’t help it. I’m only human. “And I’m ruining your work ethic?”
“You’re ruining me.”
It’s a touch too honest for the interior of the car. There’s nowhere to escape. The air conditioning blows on my face, chilling the sweat on my brow.
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.
He stops at a red light and leans toward me. “Look at me.”
With little choice in the confines of the small car, I turn my head.
“It wasn’t a complaint. Kiss me.”
I hesitate. The light turns green. The car behind us honks. He doesn’t move. “Vivian.”
I set my lips to his for a brief kiss, but he cups my jaw and holds me there. The other car swerves around us, the driver yelling as he drives by. Nate lingers another second before taking the wheel.
“Thank you.”
“Welcome,” I say, touching my fingers to my lips to hide my smile. He wears his shamelessly. He really is too much.
