Shortbread and Shadows - Amy Lane Page 0,50
of her life to go easy on him if Lachlan couldn’t get him out of it.
But Bartholomew wasn’t going to bring Lachlan to his apparently toxic home and say, “Mom, Dad, here’s this guy I like and he really makes me happy!” Bartholomew would probably have a heart attack and die should that day ever occur. Lachlan was going to have to man up and take his grilling like a champ.
And since Bartholomew’s mom and dad weren’t the ones with the filet knives and the sense of responsibility, it would be the Nordic god looming over Lachlan by a good three inches, currently assessing the shelves in Bartholomew’s specially kitted and tiled garage with blue-eyed steadiness.
“Mixers there, right?” Lachlan said, reaching for one and pretending this wasn’t going to happen.
“Stop right there,” Jordan said mildly. “We can both see where the mixers are. My dad helped him redesign this place at cost, you know. I think my stepdad had to offer sexual favors to the appliance store for that big walk-in refrigerator in the corner—I’m not even kidding.”
Lachlan gave him a grin. “That’s not true,” he said with certainty. “Tolly told me you love your stepdad stupidly, and your dad sounds like a good guy. So go ahead. Do your worst.”
Jordan arched a pale eyebrow. “Clarify.”
“You want to make sure I don’t hurt your friend.”
Jordan shook his head. “I want to make sure you don’t hurt my brother. You both may think I haven’t noticed, but that’s some pretty snazzy jewelry you’re both sporting there. Bartholomew has always been a lot more powerful than he believes, but those amulets and the ones he made us? I’ve been studying—he did some amazing work in the span of an afternoon. This thing with you? It has opened his heart to some really powerful emotions, do you understand me?”
Lachlan swallowed. He really did. “Look,” he said, “I think I get you. You’re afraid… I mean, he was so quiet, right? So terrified of even talking to me. Like, we’ve known each other for two years, and I swear I’ve been in love with him for a year and a half, but I was going to give up. He was so terrified of showing me who he was, I didn’t think he liked me even a little, right?”
Jordan let out a snort that was at least two-thirds frustration. “We are all aware.”
Well, of course Bartholomew would tell his family. Hell, even Morty knew about Lachlan’s helpless crush on Tolly. The only reason Lachlan’s parents and Erin didn’t was that it was so damned serious. He hadn’t wanted them to fret about him, so he’d kept this one card, this one person, close to his vest.
“So I get it,” Lachlan continued, thinking guiltily about his parents and how they didn’t know Lachlan’s one real love was a man. “I get that you’d be a little nervous of me, suddenly in on your magic, in on your coven—”
Jordan gave him a direct look. “Nervous doesn’t cover it. The only reason, and I mean the only reason, I am not on the phone to my dad and stepdad to come over and check you out and run your finances and do a computer deep dive on you is that you totally stepped up today. You seemed like a decent guy from a distance. Fun, chatty, a little shallow—but until I saw you running after Bartholomew to keep him safe, I thought you were sort of this big bright ball of gas with no matter. But you kept him safe, you helped him cast spells, and you haven’t batted an eyelash. So you have lots of points in your favor here. But I need you to tell me right now why I should continue to trust you with my brother’s heart.”
“Because of all the surprising shit I’ve seen today—and brother, this snazzy necklace? And the one on your neck? That was some wicked-awesome shit. But of all of it that I’ve seen, the way he looks at me, the things he’s said about wanting me for two years, that’s the most amazing thing of all. That’s the real magic in my life. I’m not taking any of that for granted.”
Jordan nodded, looking to the side in that way smart people did when they were mulling over possibilities and trying to come up with anything they’d missed.
“Okay. Fair enough.” Jordan’s expression hardened. “You know those sitcoms where the wimpy brother tells the potential suitor that he’d better not be