Chapter 10 #2
The silence felt patient, kind, and resolute, so I knew who was waiting for me before Vaughn’s handsome face came into view.
He was the one I couldn’t easily ignore or shove down the steps.
We were all roughly the same age and had contributed the same amount of startup money, but Vaughn was the unofficial leader of the business and a fatherly figure to the group.
None of us, especially me, wanted to disappoint him.
Vaughn’s blue eyes didn’t express anger, frustration, or even disappointment.
All I saw was sympathy and understanding, which was why I stepped into his open arms without hesitation.
He hugged me tightly and kissed my cheek.
“Stop hiding and talk to us, yeah? We love you.” Vaughn’s voice was gruff with humor and affection.
“I love you guys too.” And I did. This brotherly love was the only kind I would permit in my life, and I cherished it more than my next breath. If given the choice between my life and theirs, I’d always choose them.
Vaughn patted my back and pushed me out to arm’s length, holding my gaze with his steady one. “Nothing is so big my smoked barbecue ribs can’t fix it.”
“Not so sure about that.”
“It’s okay to want, Hawk.”
It didn’t surprise me that Vaughn knew the reasons I’d kept to myself the past two weeks.
Archer had blabbed to everyone about my initial reaction to Atticus, and he’d somehow learned about my shared lunch with him by the pond.
Thank god Arch hadn’t found out about my failed hookup attempt in April, or he never would’ve relented.
But the secret felt too burdensome to carry alone, which was why I confessed everything to Vaughn, turning the silent stairwell into a confessional.
He listened without judgment, his strong hands bracketing my shoulders and his steady gaze holding mine. Vaughn didn’t say anything until I finished, and then he pulled me in for another hug. “I got you, Hawk. Always.”
Relief turned my legs to spaghetti noodles, and I sagged in his embrace. Vaughn supported my weight until I was ready to stand on my own once more. When I stepped back, he ruffled my hair and met my gaze.
“Do you think it might be better to act on your attraction to Atticus?” Vaughn asked. “Avoiding it and trying to convince yourself it’s wrong or unsafe only seems to make you feel worse.”
Swallowing hard to dislodge the sudden lump in my throat, I said, “I can’t. I’m not ready.”
“Okay,” Vaughn replied patiently.
My refusal to move on from Javier’s gut-wrenching death had changed over the three years, but the reason for my stubbornness had shifted.
Sadness and guilt would always play a big part, but survival had become the name of the game, both mine and whoever had the misfortune to fall in love with me.
Daydreaming about what I could have with Atticus always led to nightmares of a rocket-propelled grenade ripping through the lead car in our embassy convoy and knowing the love of my life was trapped inside the vehicle and burning alive.
There’d been nothing I could do to save him, and I would’ve died trying if not for my guys.
They’d gotten me out of Budapest alive; they’d made sure Javi’s remains were returned stateside, and they stood beside me when we’d laid him to rest. I would’ve died a hundred deaths since then if not for Archer, Vaughn, Ethan, and Nico.
They deserved better from me, so I pulled myself together.
“Barbecue ribs sound good.”
Vaughn searched my gaze, looking for hints of deception, and nodded when he found none. “Good. You’ve got macaroni and cheese duty. I bought all the ingredients, so you’ll just need to combine everything together.”
“Doubt it,” I teased.
My mom’s old recipe called for cheap, individually wrapped American cheese slices, but Vaughn’s blue blood wouldn’t tolerate something so basic unless it was a dire emergency.
He’d likely bought an expensive hunk of cheese from a specialty store, but I’d use it because it made him happy.
Didn’t mean I wouldn’t give him shit about it.
It was our weird love language. Vaughn squeezed my shoulders, then nudged me through the stairwell door and followed me into our communal space.
The conversation lurched to a halt, and four pairs of eyes assessed me from head to toe.
“He lives!” Ethan exclaimed, his green eyes shimmering with humor. I ruffled his dark brown hair before hugging him. Ethan was the golden retriever of the group, always welcoming us with a huge smile and good-natured energy.
“I live,” I agreed.
Nico stepped into my space, silently wrapping me in a hug. He was a solid, quiet presence and the most like me, but Nico’s edginess hadn’t quite reached my level of standoffishness, and I hoped it never did.
Patting his back, I said, “I’m good, Nic.”
Archer appraised me as he spooned something into his mouth, but his twinkling green eyes spoke loud and clear.
He thought I was a fool, a cowardly one at that, to walk away from something—someone—so good.
If he dared voice his opinion, I’d divert everyone’s attention to a discussion about Bobby.
Archer saluted me with the spoon before dipping it back into his bowl, but the smirk tugging at his lips promised my reprieve was only temporary.
I fucking loved that ornery bastard, so I closed the space between us and hugged him tight.
“Love you too, asshole,” Archer grumbled.
I got a whiff of strawberries as I stepped back and peered down into his bowl. “Ice cream?”
“Freshly made in that fancy gadget you gave me for my birthday.” Archer spooned a big bite into his mouth and shimmied his shoulders.
“That good, huh?” I asked.
“The best! I’ve really nailed the process.” Archer waggled his eyebrows. “If you’re nice, I’ll share.”
“I’m contributing macaroni and cheese for dinner.”
Archer grinned and said, “I am definitely saving ice cream for you.”
Vaughn, who’d donned an apron declaring him Smokin’ Hot, gestured to the kitchen island with a pair of tongs. “Speaking of the mac, I’ve laid your ingredients out for you. I’m going to wrap the ribs and let them rest a bit.”
“Thanks.”
Nico followed me into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “I’m putting together the Caesar salad.”
And by putting it together, he meant opening the kit from the store and tossing the greens with shredded parmesan cheese, seasoning, and the creamy dressing.
Ethan would’ve grabbed a fruit or veggie tray on the way home, and Archer’s contribution was his latest ice cream concoction.
My favorite had been the s’mores ice cream with pieces of toasted marshmallow and chunks of graham cracker, but the vibrant smell of strawberries ignited my senses and made me think of Atticus enjoying my summer salad.
I squelched the thought before it could morph into other suggestions for his gorgeous mouth.
Nico gave me a soft nudge with his elbow. “If you want us to stop worrying about you, then you’ll need to stop staring into space. If you don’t want us to mention his name, then stop smiling about memories we don’t share or thoughts we can’t hear.”
“Who says we want to hear his thoughts about you know who?” Ethan asked.
Archer raised his spoon. “I do. Every naughty last one.”
“Pervert,” we all replied collectively.
Archer laughed and shrugged while I gave Nico my attention.
“There are no thoughts or memories to share,” I lied.
Nico rolled his eyes and lifted his right leg. “Pull this one, and it plays ‘HOT TO GO!’ As in, you’re hot for—”
I covered his entire face with my hand to shut him up.
Nico laughed as he squirmed free. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be good.”
Dinner was delicious, though I still thought the macaroni and cheese would’ve been better made with single slices.
There was just something so creamy about Mom’s method.
Or maybe it was just the pleasure I got from making it the way she used to on special occasions.
Most of the time, she’d bought the boxed dinner with the powdered mix because it was cheaper.
Using a whole package of sliced cheese for one meal wasn’t something a single mom on a shoestring budget could afford.
But man, what a treat it was when Mom served it, usually with discounted steaks or fried chicken.
“Who wants ice cream?” Archer asked once we finished.
“I gotta get going. I want to swing by Silver Maple’s library to return a book and check out a new one.
” Books were my favorite way to wind down, and losing myself in a thriller sounded like a perfect way to spend my weekend off.
“Thanks for dinner.” I saw the protest in their expressions, but none of them asked me to stay longer. “Brunch tomorrow?” I asked.
Vaughn gave me an approving nod. “I’ll make my sausage gravy and biscuits.”
A cheer rang out behind me as I left.
“How’s it going, Clint?” I asked when I pulled up to the guard shack.
“Just settled in, boss, but Jenkins said it’s been a quiet day so far.” He held up crossed fingers and grinned crookedly. “Hoping it stays that way.”
“That makes two of us. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
I drove around to the side of the administrative building, where I noticed a gold scooter parked near the employees’ entrance.
I’d never seen it before and couldn’t imagine who in the hell drove that flashy death trap.
Grabbing my bag from the passenger seat, I headed into the building.
Atticus was always gone when I arrived for work, and his office door was usually closed.
But this time, it hung wide open, and the lights were on inside, making it impossible to miss a gold helmet with cheetah spots sitting in the middle of the desk.