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The only good thing about how long this damn family dinner has gone on is the fact that I’ve been able to look at Lennon the entire time. I can’t stop myself from staring at her and I don’t see a reason to. I’m not going to sneak around and hide what the hell is going on. It would be a disservice to everyone involved.
If our parents have a problem with Lennon being our woman, we’ll deal with it. It’s not like it’s as wrong as it sounds on paper.
We didn’t grow up together.
We’re grown ass adults.
She’s ours and we’ll treat her like the fucking queen she is.
I’m not going to assume dad and Abigail will freak out, but I also know we need to get Lennon on board first. Then we can deal with letting our parents know the truth Lennon has been fighting against since the night we spent together.
She was so damn careful that night with avoiding asking our names. I knew seeing us at work a few days later would be a shock. And it was.
I saw her face when she saw us for the first time within the context of Winston Realty. She was not happy about it and was more than a little surprised and embarrassed. I hated it, but not as much as I despised giving her some space for the last few days.
We need to have a conversation and I’ve been biding my time. I know she’s going to try and put it off and ignore what needs to be said. I won’t let her get away with it for long. The moment I see an opening, I’m taking it.
Dinner has been awkward as fuck, but I’m more than happy to endure it because I get to be close to our woman. The memories of the night we spent together have had to sustain me while giving her the space she’s needed to process who we are.
When Abigail stands up to start clearing the table, Kemp is quick to help her. Normally, I would be the first one on it, but I’m distracted by Lennon.
Lennon turns toward Dad to ask, “Where’s the bathroom?”
I’m quick to stand up and offer, “I’ll show you where it is.”
The pride and happiness in the smile Dad shoots me is undeserved, but I’ll take it anyway. The silence stretches between Lennon and I as I show her where the guest bathroom on the first floor is.
The house is massive. It was one of the first things he bought when the business took off. I remember the day we moved in because it was a pretty massive upgrade from the house we were in before.
Dad could see our surprise and he chuckled, “We’ve earned this, and we deserve it. I want a place where you have your own space where you know you can always come home if you need to.”
As Lennon slips inside the bathroom, I lean back against the wall on the other side of the hallway. When Jordan walks up, I’m not surprised to see him. He’s been just as eager as I’ve been to be around Lennon.
“You think she’s going to run?” His voice has a forced casualness to it as he leans against the wall next to me, but I can see how much the thought of our woman running from us hurts him.
He’s always been the softest of us and we’ve fostered that. Maybe it’s because he’s the baby of the family, but we never wanted him to change. I still have some memories of our mom. Kemp has a few, but less than I do. Jordan never had the chance to make any. Maybe that’s why we’ve always given him leeway whether he deserved it or not.
“She’ll consider it,” I admit because I know she already has. It would be easy for her to do, but I also saw how much she loves Abigail. “She won’t though because she loves her mom and would do anything for her.”
Jordan nods as he stares at the door. The moment it opens, something comes over me and I push my way into the bathroom, my youngest brother doing what he’s always done and following right behind me.
Lennon whisper-yells, “What are you doing?”
I’m glad the bathroom is big enough for the three of us to fit inside comfortably or else this would be beyond awkward. It’s already strange enough.
“We need to talk,” my voice drops an octave with how close I am to our woman.
Jordan is grinning from ear to ear as he looks at her. “You’ve been avoiding us,” he tells her softly as he gives her the biggest puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen.
Lennon crosses her arms across her chest and huffs out an annoyed breath. “I don’t think this is the appropriate place for us to have this conversation.” There’s a challenge in her voice as she arches her eyebrow and looks between us, “Do you?”
“I think if we allow you to continue to ignore us and avoid this conversation then you’ll talk yourself into some bullshit and try to forget the night we spent together,” my tone isn’t hard, but I’m not leaving a lot of room for argument either.
“Oh, so you want to talk about the night we spent together.” Her eyes are narrowed in a way which has alarm bells ringing in my head, but I’ve come this far and I’m not going to give up now. “Did you know who I was when you pulled my key?”
“Yes,” I answer her question without giving her anything else.
I learned a long time ago to only answer the question I’ve been asked. There’s no reason for me to offer her more of an explanation right now. Not yet. But, at the same time, I won’t lie to her.
