see anyone approaching the house, and Keith had promised regular police drive-bys.
I can’t even begin to process the difference in the response from law enforcement here, as compared to the apathy I encountered in LA. I guess in part because they all seem to know Kyle, but I also have a feeling, here in Durango, people look after their own. What chokes me up is after only living here for a year, I seem to have been embraced as one of theirs. It gives me a strong sense of belonging I don’t think I’ve felt since leaving home twenty-some years ago.
“You sit by me.”
The black woman introduced to me as Lisa—who seems to rule the roost inside the clubhouse—indicates the chair next to her at the massive dining table. Kyle takes the chair on the other side of me.
I first realized I’d forgotten about my contacts when Brick mumbled, “Well, I’ll be damned,” as he stared at me, walking into the garage ahead of Kyle. He didn’t say anything else, but did invite us into the clubhouse to meet Lisa. She insisted we stay for dinner, and one glance at Bryce’s pleading eyes had us accept.
“Gotta say,” Lisa says in a low voice, leaning toward me. “Never thought I’d be breaking bread with a celebrity.” She catches my eyes darting over to the bar and quickly adds, “Don’t worry, only reason these Neanderthals have their eyes on you is because it’s been a while since they’ve seen a new pretty face at the table.”
The Neanderthals she’s referring to are a handful of rough-looking men at the bar, all focused this way.
“I’m guessing they’re not much for daytime TV?”
Her responding laugh has more than just my head turn her way. It turns the rather stern-faced woman warmly vibrant and infinitely beautiful. Brick, the gray-bearded, gruff-looking mechanic definitely notices too. He’s sitting across from us, flanked by a couple of the teens I saw with Bryce earlier on one side, and two younger kids I understand to be Lisa’s on the other.
Dinner is a lively event here. The kids chatter, especially Kiara, the little girl who doesn’t at all seem impressed or intimidated by all the testosterone represented, and is so busy talking, she has to be reminded several times to eat.
The food is the kind that sticks to your ribs and is absolutely delicious, which means I’m struggling to finish what’s in front of me. Lisa—who is a gorgeously rounded woman—raises an eyebrow when she notices my plate.
“Dinner is incredible, I’m just not a big eater.”
“Hmm-hmm,” she hums, keeping that eyebrow high.
“She makes killer dessert, though,” Bryce announces loudly, just as Kyle puts a hand on my leg under the table.
“He’s right.” His fingers give my knee a quick squeeze.
My knights in shining armor.
Lisa doesn’t look convinced, but after a few of the kids clear the table and everyone digs into the cinnamon buns, she seems to change her mind.
“Dayum,” is all she says, but I get the sense coming from her it’s high praise.
“Ready to go?” Kyle asks not much later.
The kids are hanging around on a large sectional at the back of the cavernous space, watching something on TV. Brick has joined the other men at the bar, and I just helped Lisa clean up in the kitchen.
“Sure.”
I’m not actually all that sure. As unfamiliar as the clubhouse is, I feel oddly safe here and sense Bryce will be too.
“Hey, kid,” Kyle calls out, and I snicker when at least three heads turn around.
“May wanna be a little more specific,” I tease him.
“Bryce, we’re leaving,” he tries again.
His boy gets up and ambles this way, his teenage swagger a lot more confident than when I first met him.
“Cool.”
“You’ve got your phone?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re okay spending a little time here?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” Kyle says, not getting much more out of the kid. “I’ll give you a call in the morning.”
“Cool.”
“I know you have more words in your vocabulary, kiddo,” I jump in. “I heard them myself. You should give them a try, for variation.”
He ducks his head to hide his grin. Little smart-ass.
“Give me a hug.”
I already have my arms around him and give him a firm squeeze before I let go.
“See ya, Annie.”
My face splits into a wide grin.
“You too, brat.”
Then he turns to Kyle and holds out his hand, which his father grabs. They do one of those man hugs, which is really more of a shoulder bump, and I swallow the sudden lump in my throat.
“Talk to you tomorrow, Son.”
The