He met her halfway. “I got in late last night.”
As she hugged him, he noted with some surprise she was wearing jeans. Granted, he hadn’t been around much the past six years, but all his life, his mother dressed in the latest fashions that did not include denim, especially for Sunday brunch. He stepped back and turned to face his dad—also in jeans instead of his customary business casual.
What the hell?
There was a strange pause before he and his father moved in for a one second half-hug and back slap. His chest tightened at the awkwardness. Why the caution on his dad’s face? Did he feel bad about showing his usual affection in front of Grayson after their formal greeting?
After they stepped apart, he made his way around the room to hug Grandpa Ira and Grandma Irene. His sister, Celia, also got a hug, but he shook hands with her husband, Robert. They were newlyweds after first postponing the wedding because of the family scandal, then rushing to rebook everything.
His baby sister, Shelby, added a kiss on his cheek with her hug, while his youngest brother, Merit, stood to offer a hand clasp, shoulder bump, and slap on the back.
“Loyal.” He uttered his name like an insult, even as he grinned his welcome.
“Mooch.”
For as many times as he’d used the nickname with animosity, today he injected a note of genuine affection. The Diamond siblings—true Diamond siblings—had to stick together.
As he pulled out the empty chair at his usual spot, he noticed his dad carrying a chair over from the corner of the room while his mom hurried to get another place setting from the side china hutch. She directed Grayson to the new seat just as the weekend staffers carried in brunch dishes from the kitchen. Remy lay down beside her owner’s chair when he sat.
Brunch was always served after the last person arrived, and it appeared they’d been waiting for Grayson—who would’ve sat in his spot if he hadn’t shown up.
A spurt of jealousy flared at the thought of the guy taking over his seat at the table. In the family. The guy was older than him by about three months, so he’d already taken that position by default.
Loyal’s jaw clenched with irritation. It was childish to let any of it bother him. He didn’t doubt his parents’ love, and he didn’t want for anything financially, both because of a generous trust fund and his own hard work, so it wasn’t like Grayson could actually take anything away from him. Feeling insecure while not understanding why was extremely unsettling and annoying.
All along, he’d told himself he didn’t give a fuck, and yet here he was…discovering he gave a fuck.
And that pissed him off, because he didn’t want to give a fuck.
His father quieted the side conversations for a quick prayer to bless the meal and those eating it, and then his mother officially started brunch by passing the first dish—to Grayson.
“Why didn’t you stay here last night, Loyal?” His mom caught his eye as she lifted a second plate piled high with bacon and sausage. “You know I hate the thought of you in a hotel.”
“I’m using Asher’s apartment,” he fibbed. He had used it last night, he just wasn’t going to use it anymore. Which meant he’d be looking for his own place sooner than later, so when his mom found out he’d moved to a hotel, she wouldn’t badger the heck out of him. She didn’t understand his aversion to moving back into the family home at thirty years old, but it wasn’t going to happen.
“Is this it then?” Shelby asked. “No more Texas?”
“Yeah. Uncle Matt’s audit is all wrapped up, and I wanted to come back before election night. As soon as I find my own place, I’ll have my things shipped back.”
He thought he heard a snort from Grayson’s corner of the table, and when he cut his gaze to the guy, he was shaking his head with a smirk. Loyal ignored him. A person didn’t have to be rich or privileged to pay a moving company. He was providing someone with a job, and they were earning a damn good wage for their work. Same as he did for his own job.
“We’re thrilled you’re finally home,” his mom said.
“What are you doing for a job?” Grandpa Ira asked gruffly. “Don’t forget, idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”
Loyal gave a soft snort and arched his brows at his brother next to him.
“Don’t look at me,” Merit brushed him off. “I keep my hands plenty busy.”
His emphasis on plenty made Robert choke on a laugh. Celia elbowed him in the ribs as Grandpa guffawed, Dad frowned, and Mom sighed.
Well, his youngest brother did keep his hands busy—with a different girl each week. Or so he’d heard.
When he noticed the others watching him, Merit huffed out a sigh. “Why do you guys always try and turn this on me? Grandpa asked Loyal the question.”
Noticing Grayson’s judgmental gaze taking everything in, Loyal took pity on his youngest brother and turned it back on himself. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, Grandpa. I’ve been kicking around the idea of starting my own accounting firm. After the last couple of years, though, I’m going to take it easy at first. Maybe start with a select few clients.”
Across the table on the corner, his half-brother’s knuckles turned white as his hand gripped his fork. His glare was full of resentment, and Loyal could guess why. He’d hired a private investigator to look into the guy back in May, and knew since getting out of the military, Grayson worked odd jobs and barely scraped by most months.
But that wasn’t his fault, was it?
At the head of the table, his dad cleared his throat. “You know, this move of yours has come at a very opportune time.”
His muscles tensed, and he fought to keep his expression impassive as he warned, “I have my own plan, Dad, and politics don’t figure into it. I’m going to register to vote so I can get my ballot in, and that’s it.”
“Don’t worry, Loyal. I gave up on my sons following in my footsteps a long time ago.”
His shoulders relaxed, until he noticed the sideways glance his dad cast toward Grayson. He narrowed his gaze as his pulse ticked up with a resurgence of resentment. Wouldn’t that just take the cake if his new son decided to step up to the political plate where he, Asher, and Merit had refused.
His dad set his silverware down on the edge of his plate, then sat up straighter as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Grayson and I have been discussing starting up a foundation for our veterans.”
“So he said outside,” Loyal commented tightly.
“I think that’s awesome,” Shelby chimed in.
Loyal noticed their mom lay her hand on his baby sister’s arm and give a light squeeze. His sister pressed her lips together and sat back in her chair.
What the hell was that about?
“With my campaign ramping up these next nine days before the election,” their dad continued, “I can’t devote the time I’d like to get it up and running with him.”
He looked back to find his dad’s gaze locked on him.
“And if the vote goes in my favor, God-willing, I’ll be in Washington quite a bit, and still won’t have time.”
He did not like the sound of where this was going. “What’s your point, Dad?”
“I’d like you to take a seat on the board with Grayson.”
“What?” Grayson stiffened so fast, Remy leapt to her feet beside him with a soft growl. His hand on the Shepherd’s head immediately quieted her.
“You want me to work with him?” His astonished laugh contained no humor. “That’s not gonna fucking happen.”
“Loyal,” Grandma Irene admonished from his left. “Watch your language.”
He cringed, but kept his focus on the right end of the table.
“That was not part of the deal.” Grayson seemed equally shocked at the unexpected offer. And pissed off, too.
“No, it wasn’t, but it is now,” his dad said in a firm voice. His father glanced at his mom, who gave a subtle nod. They were back to making decisions together, like they had ninety-nine-point-nine-percen
t of their married life—Grayson being the result of the point-o-one-percent they hadn’t.
“You will still be head of the foundation,” his dad assured him. “You’ll make the main decisions of where and how to focus the charity, but Loyal will be the CFO and oversee the money.”
“You don’t trust me?” he bristled.
“No offense, son, but I don’t know you well enough yet.”
“Offense taken, Mr. Diamond.” He tossed his napkin on his plate. “A month ago you tried to give me a million dollars. No strings, you said, and I said no.”
Loyal barely kept his mouth from gaping open even as he registered a soft gasp from one or more of his siblings. His dad had tried to give the guy a million dollars?
And he turned it down?
“But I come to you about an honest charity to help veterans in need and suddenly I have to have a fucking babysitter for your fucking money?” He snorted with disgust. “I’ll take the million instead.”
“That is no longer on the table. This is what I’m offering. Take it or leave it.”
Grayson’s jaw clenched tight as he switched his glare from their dad, to Loyal. Then he shoved away from the table and headed for the door with Remy trotting dutifully at his side. Halfway to the door, he came to an abrupt halt and half-turned toward the table.
“Thank you for the meal, Janine.” He shifted his gaze to Grandma Irene. “I apologize for my language, ma’am.”
With that, he continued out of the room and slammed from the house. Loyal actually understood and wouldn’t mind following suit.
“He didn’t actually say no.” His mom broke the silence.
“Oh, my God, that was such a no, Mom,” Shelby exclaimed.
Merit, Celia, and Shelby all started talking at once, but their dad held up a quieting hand as he caught Loyal’s gaze. “He just needs to calm down and think about it. Like someone else I know.”
“I’m perfectly calm, Dad. The answer is still no.” He let his gaze convey his commitment to his answer, then dropped his attention to the eggs on his plate, lifted his fork, and said, “Did you guys know Roxanna’s apartment building burned down last night?”
As expected, the news elicited shocked exclamations.
“Oh my God, is she okay?” Mom asked.
“She is. No one was hurt,” he assured them as his father recognized his distraction tactic and sat back in his chair with resignation.
“Did she lose everything? Where is she staying?”
Shit. He hadn’t thought about that when he’d said earlier he was staying at Asher’s apartment.
“You let her know she’s welcome to come stay here with us for as long as she needs,” Mom declared.
He frowned at the assumption everyone kept making that he would relay their messages. “You let her know. I’m not going to talk to her.”
“Because you’re a jerk,” Merit chimed in.
“I don’t know why you don’t like her,” Celia said as she lifted her juice for a drink. “It’s not her fault Lisa turned out to be such a flake.”
And just like that, his distraction shifted in a direction he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. The family got on Merit for his lack of ambition. They got on Loyal for his dislike of Roxanna. He didn’t care—not much, anyway. Besides, it didn’t take long for the conversation to morph in a different direction, so he kept quiet and rode it out.
With Grayson and Remy gone, the meal settled into their regular family rhythm and ended with a lengthy discussion of the upcoming Halloween fundraiser for the Children’s Hospital on the thirty-first.
His mom was hoping to top last year’s totals, and since it would be one of the last big events before election night, she was going all out. Loyal had been able to get away with a large monetary donation in the past, but now that he was home, she made a point of letting them all know they’d be expected to attend for the sake of the children and their father’s campaign.
Which meant in addition to a place to live, he’d also be looking for a costume that would keep him incognito from the rest of the crowd after he put in the obligatory appearance with Mom.
As was customary, the staff had gone home after serving, and the kids were in charge of cleanup as their parents and grandparents shared one last cup of coffee. And, as was usual, Merit carried his plate into the kitchen, but quickly disappeared, leaving the rest of them to pick up his slack.
A half hour later, Loyal wiped off the kitchen island counter and tossed the washcloth to Robert at the sink. His brother-in-law had stepped up in cleaning duties from the first brunch he’d attended over seven years ago.
“I’m gonna take off,” Loyal said. “See you guys around.”
“I’m so glad it’ll be more often now,” Shelby said with a grin.
“Like you’ll even notice with your nose stuck in your books all the time, Bells,” he teased with a tug on her dark ponytail.
She side-ducked out of his reach. “I’m just following my plan, like everyone else.”
“Like everyone else? And what’s Mooch’s plan?”
“To not have a plan.”
“Can’t argue that he’s not following it,” Robert pointed out.
“No,” Loyal agreed. “Definitely not.”
“You’ll have to come over for dinner soon,” Celia urged. “I want you to see the new house.”
“Text me and let me know when,” he said as he backed out of the kitchen. “I gotta go before Dad corners me about that CFO crap again.”
“You know, Grayson’s not so bad,” Shelby said. “And Remy is a sweetheart.”
Of course she’d say that. Their soon-to-be veterinarian loved any animal, no matter what.
“That dog doesn’t like me anymore than he does,” Loyal said. “Feeling’s mutual,” he added over his shoulder before moving out of sight.
He almost made it to the front door when his dad’s voice stopped him in the foyer. “Loyal. Your mom wants to talk to you before you sneak out.”
Crap.
He halted and turned back. “I wasn’t sneaking.”
“No? Then where’s my goodbye?”
He rolled his eyes and stepped up to give the old man a hug. Despite the eye roll, he didn’t actually mind one bit—as long as he didn’t bring up working with Grayson again.
This time, his dad gave him a tight squeeze before easing back. He kept a hand clasped on his shoulder as they shared a smiled, but then his dad sighed.
Here it comes.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I’m going to ask you again to consider the board position for the foundation.”
He started to shake his head as his mom hurried toward them with a huge, square, linen-lined basket.
“I’d really like you to do this for me,” his dad insisted. “For the family.”
Nothing like laying on some family guilt. It hadn’t worked back when he wanted him to get into politics, and it wasn’t going to work now. His dad would just have to accept that, too.
Loyal didn’t say yes or no, or even that he’d think about it as he backed out from under his dad’s hand and his mom pushed the basket into his arms. It was heavier than he expected, with a number of competing scents wafting up from the items piled inside.
“What is this for?”
“I want you to take it to Roxanna.”
Sonofabitch.
Neither one of them would give him any peace, would they? He grit his teeth as he inhaled. “Mom—”
“It’s a care package I threw together to replace some things after the fire, and a couple of gift cards I keep on hand. Your dad and I are leaving for Grand Junction in an hour for the final campaign tour, and we won’t be home until Thursday. I don’t want it to wait that long, so don’t be an ass about it and get going. Please.”
That last word was supposed to soften the ass, but it also added guilt, especially when she raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “It will not kill you to be nice to
her for the one second it’ll take you to drop it off.”
No, it wouldn’t kill him. Yes, he was being an ass about it.
It just annoyed the shit out of him that he was being guilted into dealing with the two people he most wanted to avoid. One, he didn’t quite know why his resentment was so damn strong.
The other he knew exactly why, and needed to stay the hell away from her.
Chapter 6
Seeing her burned apartment building in the daylight was worse than when she’d watched the flames shooting toward the sky. Roxanna realized she’d been in shock last night, and even during her walk, a small part of her kept hoping it had all been a bad dream.
Unfortunately, it was all too real. She commiserated with a few of her neighbors on the scene where the firefighters were still working, and they thanked her for the early warning. Most of them knew what she did for a living, and not one of them asked her how come she hadn’t been able to stop it. And even though she had helped get people out in time, she wished her gift gave her the ability to keep bad things from happening.
But as she’d told Loyal, it didn’t work that way. If it did, none of her neighbors would be homeless right now. She wouldn’t be homeless. And she wouldn’t have had to pay cash for the cheapest phone available because her cell, license, and other ID had gone up in flames with her purse.
When she returned to her shop after making one additional stop for underwear, bras, and socks, she tossed the smoky blanket from last night out into the back hall and put her purchases down on the chair. The coolness of the hanging beads against her fingers offered physical grounding as the musical harmony of them clinking together soothed her spirit.
A blinking light on the phone near the cash register indicated a message, and when she moved over to listen, the concern in Asher and Honor’s voices made her chest tight with renewed emotion.
She dialed them on her new phone, but because she’d been able to transfer her number, Asher didn’t bother with preliminaries when he answered. “Thank God you’re okay.”
“Hey, Rox.” Honor’s voice told her they had her on speaker. “How are you doing?”
Love Loyal and True Page 4