33 - Lauren
Lauren
“Clara! Come on in,” I said, welcoming my best friend with a hug.
“It’s been too long,” she said, squeezing me tightly before I closed the door behind us and led her to the watch office so she could take a look at the renovation progress.
“It’s been three weeks,” I laughed.
“Uh, yeah. And so much has happened since then. Hence why I decided to bring this bad boy along to join us for dinner,” she said, reaching into her canvas tote to pull out a gorgeous-looking Cabernet Sauvignon. I chuckled, linking my arm with hers.
“Excellent. I still have our last bottle chilling in the fridge,” I winked.
“The more the merrier, especially if we’re a dinner party of five,” she said.
“Speaking of, please ignore the mess,” I said, helping her sidestep pieces of plaster and random bricks among other things. “With the new blueprint for the museum and everything, the guys have had to essentially re-screw the house. Worth it though, of course.”
“Of course,” she agreed. Her face lit up. “Which actually brings me to the news I came to tell you.”
“It can’t wait until dinner?”
“I’m honestly too damn excited,” she admitted.
“Well, you may as well make a single announcement, then,” I said, nodding in the direction of the construction sounds.
She hummed her agreement. When the guys saw her, they immediately stopped what they were working on to greet her.
“Clara has some news for us and it can’t wait until dinner,” I said, looking at her expectantly.
She grinned. “I am very pleased to inform you all that the pushback on Lauren’s occupation is officially over.
Neighbor Tim is also out of the picture after it turned out that he was trying…
less savory methods of getting the council to turn on your permits.
He’s not very good at keeping his tracks covered. ”
I jumped in excitement and pulled Clara in for another hug. I knew that she probably had way more to do with getting him off my back than she was willing to admit and I appreciated her for that.
The guys cheered with Cal wolf-whistling.
“It’s about time,” Brock said, nodding in respect and acknowledgment at Clara.
“I think we should celebrate with food and alcohol,” I said, clapping my hands once together.
“Music to my ears,” Rafe said, happily jumping from the scaffolding he’d been perched on and attempting to beeline for the kitchen.
“Uh-uh,” I said, stopping him with my palm. “You three are not sitting down at my dinner table with chunks of drywall in your hair. You can use my shower to clean up.”
“That’s generous of you,” Rafe said breezily, leaning against the scaffold structure. He tilted his head. “You can always join us if you want. Make sure we really get clean.”
My face heated up and I sputtered, embarrassed that he’d actually said that in front of Clara, who actually choked on air.
Rafe and Brock laughed, and Cal dipped his head as they walked past us. Clara and I watched them leave, waiting until they were out of earshot before we both dissolved into giggles.
“Well, damn,” she said, fanning herself.
“I’m sorry about that,” I groaned. “He just…says things sometimes. It’s a good thing he’s hot.”
“That’s an understatement,” Clara laughed now. She took my hand in hers. “But I’m just happy to see you happy. You glow when you’re around them.”
I squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”
Once the guys were clean, the five of us each took a seat around the dinner table sequestered away from the rubble of the office area.
Cal and I had worked together to prepare a feast of red-wine braised short rib ragu, steaming over beds of buttery polenta and sourdough bread for mopping up the sauce.
Cal insisted on doing something to redeem the burned pizza effort, and did he ever redeem himself.
Everything was delicious, especially when paired with the wine.
As the evening unfolded and the drinks continued to flow, the five of us drifted in and out of conversation as we caught everyone up on what was happening.
I told them about how my bookings had been skyrocketing since the exhibition and the band shoot, and that it looked like I was finally going to even out my cash flow sooner than I thought I would.
Clara told us about someone new she was seeing and how promising it looked, and that she was certain her bad luck streak of dating was finally coming to an end. Rafe knocked on wood.
And then, perhaps the most startling of all, Brock announced that Nick would no longer be a problem anymore. Clara had already been informed of the situation so it was a unilateral pause of surprise around the table.
“What?” I asked. “How’d you manage that?”
Brock smiled. “The fellas at Cornerstone don’t take too kindly to someone threatening one of our own.”
Rafe’s shoulders tensed. I realized that I wasn’t the only one who was just discovering that they truly did have a family here.
“You told them?” he asked Brock.
“Just what they needed to know to correct Nick’s thinking that he was welcome in this city,” Brock shrugged. “He was so grateful for said correction that he returned all the hardware. Untouched. The boss is happy, so there’s that.”
Rafe’s eyes glistened and he stared down at his plate. I put a subtle hand on his thigh under the table. He looked at me and smiled softly.
It truly was a night worth celebrating.
*
After we saw Clara out, I pulled Brock into a hug.
“You did amazing,” I said.
“I did what I had to,” he answered, just holding me. “I don’t like leaving threats unanswered.”
I felt warm and bubbly inside, partly because of the good food and wine, and partly because it was one of those nights that I just realized how lucky I was to have crossed paths with these men. And almost instantly, the mood changed. I knew the look in Brock’s eyes when we broke apart.
It was the same intentful stare I saw in Callum’s as he stood at the foot of the staircase and waited. The very same one that brought Rafe up behind me and pushed his body to mine, his hands resting on my hips.
“I have an idea if you want a private celebration,” Brock mumbled, slowly starting to backwalk the three of us toward the stairs.
“Oh yeah?” I asked and he nodded kissing my lips once. I closed my eyes.
“Hmm. I think that Merrick can warm you up.”
Another kiss. A hand on my ass.
“And then I’m going to break you.”
A hand slipping up my dress and a thigh pressed between my legs.
“And Cal can put you back together.”
I finally opened my eyes. We now joined Callum at the foot of the stairs.
All three men were watching me eagerly, waiting for my permission the way they always did right before they turned my whole world upside down.
I placed a hand on the side of Brock’s face and he turned into it, his lips pressed into my palm.
My other hand was on Rafe’s chest and Cal wrapped his arms around my waist so that I was touching all of them.
Connected. Grounded. Part of something bigger than myself.
“I think that’s the best idea you’ve had, Lawson,” I answered.
His answering smile was both a warning and a beacon of affection. Rafe rubbed my hip and Cal kissed my ear softly.
“Welcome home, darlin’.”