she obviously knew how to cook.
Although maybe I’d text her on my way back and see if she wanted me to pick something up for her. She’d been working on her car almost nonstop today. She had to be hungry.
But she could take care of herself.
I drove to Gram’s and parked outside. I could tell by all the cars out front that everyone was here, and I was the last to arrive. I felt a pang of guilt at that too.
But they were used to it. I was busy. Owning your own business meant time spent not working was time spent not getting paid. I couldn’t just finish my shift and go home.
Jack was outside his house next door, with his stepson Elijah. It looked like they were building something. They had a table saw and a stack of lumber. Jack lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey, Evan.”
He said something to Elijah, then started toward me. I walked over to meet him about halfway between the two houses.
“Hey, Jack. What are you guys building?”
“Some new bookshelves. Naomi wants more storage, and Elijah wanted to help. Listen, I’m sorry about the car.”
Like Jack had said they would, the feds had impounded the Mustang. But since scoring the Pontiac, I’d practically forgotten about it. “It’s okay. I found another project.”
“Good. I figured you would. I haven’t heard anything from the feds, but I don’t really expect to. It’s out of my jurisdiction. Whatever they’re doing, they’ll keep it to themselves.”
“Yeah, of course.”
“I’ll let you get to dinner. Tell Gram and your brothers I said hi.”
“I will. Thanks, Jack.” I waved to Elijah. He took his hand out of his pocket and waved back.
I went over to Gram’s house but paused on the front porch to check my phone. Not that I was thinking about Fiona or anything. Just in case.
I did have a text, but it wasn’t from Fiona. It was from Jill.
Jesus.
Jill: Hey gorgeous! I haven’t heard from you. Is everything okay?
Why was this girl texting me? I’d ignored her last text but apparently she wasn’t taking the hint. I didn’t even know how she’d gotten my number.
I pocketed my phone without answering. She’d figure it out.
As soon as I walked inside, I was greeted by the familiar din of noise coming from the back of the house. Voices mostly, plus pots and pans, plates and silverware. The clink of metal, ceramic, and glass. Logan laughed at something. Chances were, he was laughing at his own joke. He thought he was hilarious.
Hesitating near the front door, I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of this place. There was something about this house. It smelled like home, but not in a way that made me feel at ease when I was here. It was hard to walk through that door and not feel loss.
It bothered me that I couldn’t get rid of that feeling. I still had Gram. Still had my brothers, as much as they drove me crazy. And that was enough. I didn’t need anything else. I didn’t want to need anything else. I was fine.
The floors creaked beneath my feet—they always had—when I walked to the kitchen. Gavin was at the stove next to Gram plucking hot dinner rolls off a baking sheet and dropping them into a basket. Asher and Grace sat at the table, their chairs pulled close so Ash could drape his arm behind her. Levi and Logan sat across from each other and whatever Logan had just said had actually made Levi crack a smile.
“Hey,” I said as I came in. I walked over to Gram and kissed the top of her head.
“There’s the Lone Wolf.” She turned and eyed me up and down, her forehead creasing. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Where is she?”
“Where’s who?”
The kitchen quieted.
“The girl who’s staying with you,” she said.
“Fiona,” Gavin offered.
I shot him a glare. “How do they know about that?”
He put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I don’t know.”
“Right.”
“I didn’t say a word. But seriously, where is she?”
“She’s working on her car, where else would she be?”
“But it’s dinnertime,” Gram said.
“Wait, Evan, you really have a girl staying with you?” Grace asked. “I figured that was just a rumor.”
Groaning, I briefly closed my eyes in frustration. “Rumors already? She’s been here less than twenty-four hours.”
“Do you remember where you live?” Grace asked. “Jessie Montgomery and Kaitlyn Peterson were talking about it in the café today. Kaitlyn said she heard you got a mail-order bride.”
“What?” I asked, my voice