Chapter 17 Lofton
LOFTON
“Tofton.” The voice broke through my slumber, threading itself through the edges of a dream I wasn’t ready to leave.
“Mmm,” I hummed, stretching out like a cat, only to immediately curl back up, fighting consciousness.
“Wake up.” A small hand patted my cheek. “We have bacon.”
The words floated through the fog approximately half a second before the scent infiltrated my nose.
Bacon.
Real, actual, greasy bacon.
I made a fresh batch for my dad every morning since I’d been home. If I were going to dream about breakfast, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be bacon.
My eyes flew open.
Zoey’s face was approximately four inches from mine. She was sporting her favorite pink pajamas with the tiny rainbow backpack she never left home without strapped to her back.
I stared at her in utter shock.
And she stared back, happy as a clam.
“Hi,” she chirped.
“Um, hi,” I breathed.
She waved a hand in front of her face. “Ew, you need to brush your teef.”
Yeah. Definitely not a dream.
I sat up so fast I nearly launched her off the bed.
“Whoa!” she laughed, catching my arm to keep from falling.
A familiar voice came from the door. “I told you she was crazy when she wakes up.”
I looked over to find Brooke leaning against the doorframe, a mug of coffee in her hand and a playful smile lighting her face. “Good morning, sunshine.”
What followed was not my finest moment. I scrambled from the bed like a baby giraffe discovering its legs for the first time. And there was a noise—something between a gasp, a hiccup, and a cat in heat—that I’d probably never hear the end of from my best friend.
But who gave a shit? My best friend was there, and she’d brought my best girl with her.
“Oh my God,” I croaked.
Hooking Zoey around the waist, I lifted her to sit on my hip, peppering kisses across her chubby cheeks. She laughed hysterically as I carried her across the room to wrap Brooke in a one-armed hug. The three of us became a tangle of affection.
“You’re going to make me spill my coffee,” Brooke said, but she was holding on to me just as tightly.
“What are you doing here?” I froze, my life coming back to me like a blast of cold air. Setting Zoey on her feet, I backed away from them. “Wait, you can’t be here. It’s not safe.”
“Relax.” She took a long, pointed sip of her coffee. “Bossy McAsshole arranged everything.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You know. Captain Control Freak. Agent Overkill. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dic—” She shot Zoey a tight smile. “Your bodyguard, Lofton. Devon called.”
I stared at her. “What? When?”
“Around ten last night.” She paused. “I guess midnight your time. This time change is killing me. Anyway, he said you needed a little normal and asked if I could make it happen. He offered to cover the flights, by the way, so don’t let him bill you for that.
I only booked first class because it was on his dime. ”
Emotion lodged in my throat. “He said I needed normal?”
“Yep. We caught a red-eye and slept on the plane.” She lifted her coffee into the air. “But don’t worry, caffeine to the rescue.”
Oh my God.
Devon.
I’d had a rough night, confided in him, and he’d not just listened, he’d taken it upon himself to ease that pain.
And let me just tell you, he’d knocked it out of the park by bringing in Brooke and Zoey.
I’d missed them so much. After everything Zoey had been through and then Leo pointing out that they were safer when they were away from me, I hadn’t allowed myself to even think about seeing them until whoever was after me was behind bars.
But Devon had told me the farm was secure.
And he’d brought them there.
So I could have normal.
My chest got tight, my nose stinging as I drew in a shuddering breath.
“Don’t,” Brooke said immediately, pointing at me. “Do not cry. We just got here and I am not emotionally prepared.”
“I’m not crying,” I lied.
“Tofton.” Zoey patted me on the leg and then handed me a dirty tissue she’d produced from rainbow backpack. “It’s okay to cry. That just means your body is getting the scared out.”
Brooke smiled warmly at her daughter. “Did Ms. Connie teach you that?”
Zoey nodded, eyes wide with wonder. “Yeah. Then she let me dump a whole cup of water on the table and the glitter went everywhere just like the sad.” She threw her hands out in front of her as if she had been Moses parting the Red Sea.
Brooke never tore her eyes off her daughter as she spoke to me. “Ms. Connie is Zoey’s therapist. I think she likes hanging out with her more than me most days.”
“Ohhhh,” I breathed, relief and understanding dawning on me. “I am so glad you found someone. Please send me the bill.”
She curled her lip. “Would you stop with that nonsense? You don’t have to pay for everything.
Besides, I’ve been lounging by a pool without so much as opening my computer for the last few weeks.
As your friend, I would highly advise you to dock your assistant’s pay this month.
Though, as your employee—who you got horribly addicted to Louboutin and the deeply irresponsible belief that I can afford them—please don’t. ”
I barked a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe, but now you’re not crying anymore.” She bumped me with her shoulder.
I nodded, swinging my smile between them. “Mission accomplished.”
Zoey inched over and plucked the tissue from my hand, shoving it right back in her bag. “Can I ride Snickers after breakfast?”
My head snapped back. “Crap, I haven’t even fed the horses yet. What time is it?”
Brooke glanced at her watch. “Ten twenty-seven.”
My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. Shooting to my feet, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand. “What happened to my alarm? Is Dad up?”
“Yeah, he was eating breakfast when we got here. Not to brag or anything, but old Larry only called me a shitty bitty once. He fawned all over Zoey, though, even made Jenn give her a lollipop.”
Okay, I’d been wrong. That was when my eyes nearly bulged out of my head. “Jenn’s here?”
She scoffed. “Right? I tried to warn Devon that there wasn’t anything even remotely normal about your sister, but he was all concerned about having somebody to distract Lawrence.
I tried to tell him I was old Larry’s favorite.
But he muttered something about two pit bulls fighting, and I was already looking at flights, so I didn’t ask questions. ”
I bit my lower lip.
That man.
That freaking gorgeous, incredible, thoughtful man.
“You’re going to cry again, aren’t you?”
Tears filled my eyes even as I defended, “I didn’t cry the first time. You can’t say again.”
She pushed to her feet and extended her hand to Zoey. “All right, pretty girl. Let’s go downstairs so Lofton can dump out all the glitter while she gets dressed.”
I laughed, my tears once again drying from Brooke’s silly joke.
How had Devon known this was exactly what I needed?
And why did the idea of him recognizing that—when I didn’t even realize it myself—warm me in all the right places?
Sebastian had set the bar so low for all future men it was practically on the ground. Devon wasn’t even mine yet, and he’d already raised it sky-high.
“Just give me ten minutes,” I told Zoey as Brooke guided her out of the room.
“Five,” she negotiated over her shoulder.
I squinted one eye. “Seven and a half.”
Her nose crinkled adorably. “Fine, but hurry up!”
Now that I could do.
I spent the next seven minutes on a quick shower, not bothering with washing my hair, and then threw on a pair of jeans and a pink tank top with spaghetti straps. It was just enough cleavage to drive Devon crazy without giving my father a heart attack.
I didn’t have time for makeup, and honestly, I didn’t feel the need. Though I did swipe mascara through my lashes before heading downstairs.
A lively mixture of chatter and laughter hit me before I reached the bottom of the stairs..
And as I turned the corner, taking in the room, more of that Devon Grant specialty warmth traveled through me.
Jenn was at the counter, pouring a mug of coffee, while her husband manned the frying pan on the stove. However, it was the two teenage girls staring down at their cell phones that made my heart swell in my chest.
Courtney noticed me first. “Aunt Lofton!” Her black oversized hoodie bounced as she jogged over, revealing a short pair of volleyball spandex underneath. She was fourteen and the oldest of Jenn’s girls. For as long as I could remember, volleyball had been her passion—and uniform.
Abby wasn’t far behind her. I hadn’t seen them in about six months, but it looked like she’d finally eclipsed her sister in height.
If they were anything like me and their mother, they probably stood back-to-back arguing over it nightly.
She too was in her volleyball finest, which wouldn’t have been complete without white Nike socks and a pair of Birkenstocks.
Courtney hugged me hard, only releasing me when Abby wedged her way between us. They immediately started bickering, and I didn’t even try to hide my amusement.
“Girls,” Terry scolded. “Let’s bring it down a notch, okay? Grandpa already tried to kick you out once.”
I flinched. “What’d he say this time?”
Courtney rolled her eyes at her dad, looking just like her mother, and then shot me a wicked grin. “He told me he wasn’t running a strip club and to put on some damn pants.”
“Hey, watch your mouth,” Jenn snapped, ambling over. “It’s still cussing even if you’re just repeating it.”
Abby shot me an eek face. “In that case, he told me, bleep, bleep, bleep, mother bleep, get your bleep, bleep, bleep out of my house.”
I tipped my head up to the ceiling. “Shit.”
Abby snapped and pointed at me. “Yep, that was one of the words.”
I shook my head. “You know he doesn’t mean it. The day y’all were born—”
Courtney waved me off, her pink and purple braces catching the light. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We know. He cried and said I was the most gorgeous baby in the world. Then he lied to Abby when she was born two years later.”