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“I…” Lachlan’s face flushed pink. “That would be up to Foster.”
My fingers gripped his knee. “Of course I want you there with me.”
We shared a smile as Dad asked, “Have you ever visited Chicago?”
“I haven’t.” Lachlan likely hadn’t given travel plans a second thought this past year. Why would he? He was just trying to survive. And I didn’t know if he had before. Did he like to travel? There was still so much to discover about each other, something I was looking forward to.
“Good.” Dad winked. “Then we’ll have plenty to show you.”
Lachlan grinned. “Can’t wait.”
“Don’t worry,” Chase said, “we’ll try not to overwhelm you. Mom promises not to bring out the photo albums from when we were kids.”
Mom mock-scoffed. “I never promised any such thing!”
She’d done the same with Chase’s first serious girlfriend, so it was a running joke in our family. I had a feeling Lachlan would eagerly page through anything Mom showed him. And I’d do the same if his mom were alive.
While Chase teased Mom about it, I murmured, “Think you’ll be able to ask for time off for the holidays?”
He shrugged. “I can’t imagine why not.”
Yesterday Lachlan had called Carlos and worked out the job details, and then in the evening went to his shift at the restaurant and put in his notice. I could tell he felt guilty about the latter, but he was also excited about working for Carlos. Not only would he have a steady, full-time paycheck on par with his skill level, but health insurance as well.
Damn, a lot had happened in his life the past couple of weeks—and for the both of us the past few months. No wonder he still seemed a bit shell-shocked.
“Which reminds me,” I said when my family grew quiet. “Lachlan has some news.”
“Oooh, what is it?” Mom asked, and he blushed again. He was coming out of his shell a little more each day, and I loved seeing it, especially knowing what he’d been like in his former life. Marcie had described him well, but that was at work and with friends. His home life had been altogether different. He didn’t feel safe there, and I despised Clint for smothering that electric thunder inside him.
“I got a job at a barbershop,” he said as if it was no big deal. “I start in another week.”
Chase whistled. “That’s amazing!”
Mom and Dad smiled and clapped. They knew what that meant to him. After missing the video call when Lachlan talked to them, I took the week to think about everything, then called my family and explained how we met and what Lachlan had been through. Not only about Clint, but also about why he left his previous job at the salon, how talented he was, and what he was doing for those experiencing homelessness.
My family had been amazed and incredibly supportive. Mom had chastised me for not being more open about my depressive episode, and she’d been right. Maybe there wasn’t much they could do, but at least they’d know I was struggling instead of trying to guess why I was dropping the ball with texts and calls.
After the video call ended, I nudged Lachlan. “I hope they didn’t put you on the spot too much.”
“I’m thrilled to be included.” He shook his head. “I haven’t had real family since my mom died.”
I wanted to ask about Clint’s family, but I didn’t want to sour the mood. If he and Clint had been hiding what was happening from everyone around them, then the relationship with Clint’s relatives probably hadn’t been genuine. So instead I said, “Well, prepare to be bombarded with calls and texts if they get a hold of your number. I’m surprised they haven’t already asked. And if you end up getting your own place, expect—”
“I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” he said, just as my cell rang.
I was on pins and needles, wondering what he was about to tell me, so I almost ignored the call.
“Who is it?” Lachlan asked, in that tone he used when he was feeling wary, which reminded me that despite all the good things happening, he was still waiting for everything to come crashing down around him.
I looked at my screen and frowned. “I don’t recognize the number.”
“You don’t suppose it could be…” He trailed off and grimaced. He meant Clint or Clint’s lawyer, and of course, I had the same alarm bells going off.
“I’ll put it on speaker,” I said, and pushed the Answer button.
“Hello?”
“Hi, um, is this Lachlan Byrne?” The male voice sounded shaky, fragile.
When our eyes met, I could see the dread in Lachlan’s, and honestly, I wasn’t any better. Shit, was this really happening? “Can I ask who’s calling?”
“My name is Jeremy, and I…well, Jesus, this is hard. I’m Clint’s boyfriend, and I saw a photo in his phone of a dog collar with this number on it, which I assumed was Lachlan’s.”
