“Bright and early,” I agreed. “I’ll lock up.”
I didn’t move an inch while I listened to my father busy himself around the office, packing his computer away and getting his coat from the rack. His routine was predictable, his early departure was not. Once he was safely out of the building, I dropped my forehead against the table and groaned.
Eventually, I peeled myself out of the chair. I knew when I got back to my office the note would still be on my phone, waiting to be sent. It was admittedly more than he asked for, but it was the only way to answer my end of our weekend agreement. And all complications aside, I was interested in Marshall. He was handsome, he was competent, he was clearly dominant, but beyond that…. I liked the way I felt around him.
Marshall’s arms were like a weighted blanket, a warm and welcome kind of restraint. When he’d touched me, it was with nothing less than tenderness, consent…want. And fuck, how he wanted. The things he’d said had my brain hazy from the promise of it all.
I’d only ever known him as my father’s biggest competition, the threat to our livelihoods, but all of that had shifted now. He was so much more than the box I’d helped my father push him into, and little pieces of him unfurled with every conversation or exchange we shared.
Lincoln and I had played for so many years, wondering about the ideal kind of man for each of us. We both knew Ineeded a dominant man who wasn’t scared of a challenge, but I’d spent years settling on boys playing pretend. I realized, much to my horror, that if I could have crafted a partner for myself from scratch, he would have looked a lot like Marshall Covington. Maybe he would have been a little closer to my age, but the gap in our years did the opposite of turn me off. At the end of the day, Marshall had been there when I needed him, and he was ready to be there now that I wanted him.
In my office, I slid my laptop into my bag and grabbed my things. The office felt safe without my dad haunting the halls, but I needed fresh air. Getting out of work early meant there wasn’t any traffic, so I made it home in record time. Once I was inside, I dropped my bags and went straight into a shower. Marshall showed no signs of leaving my brain, so after I dried off and got dressed, I dug my phone out of my back pocket and carried it to the couch. Swiping open to the notes app, I reread the paragraphs I’d put into it earlier, then I copied it, pasted it into a text message, and hit send. For the first time in my life, the direction of my future was in my own hands. There was no going back, and even if there was, I didn’t want to.
CHAPTER 10
MARSHALL
It was a curious thing, how I’d gone thirty-nine years without speaking to Silas daily, but after plucking him off that bench on a Friday and very nearly kissing him on a Saturday, six days of silence was akin to absolute torture.
“You,” Finn said, sliding into his usual seat across from me, “look distracted.”
“You just got here,” I drolled, taking a lazy drink of my wine.
It was Friday night again, time for our usual dinner, and I was first, as always, with Finn not far behind. I gestured to the drink I’d already ordered for him and leaned against the back of the booth with a weary sigh.
“You’re exhaling dramatically,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Are you seeing someone?”
“Why would my breathing indicate my dating status?”
“That’s not a no.” He grinned at me and scrunched his nose.
“What’s not a no?” Smith was next to arrive, taking the seat beside me. I’d also ordered him a drink, and one for Hunter as well.
I glanced at Smith from the corner of my eye, trying to notcatalog the similarities and differences between him and Silas. Just because they were the same age didn’t mean anything. It meant nothing. My brother was as much his own man as I was, and same with Silas. The age was nothing. My relationship with his father…also nothing.
“Marshall is seeing someone,” Finn said helpfully.
“I am not.”
“You are?” Smith asked, shoving my shoulder like he was angry I’d been keeping a secret from him. In reality, if I did confess about Silas to any of my brothers, Smith would probably be the first to hear about it, with Finn being the last. Though Hunter was a vault and would probably take the secret to the grave if I didn’t willingly tell the other two.
As if to prove my point, he arrived last, taking his place next to Finn and not asking any of us to bring him up to speed on the conversation.
“I’m not,” I said again.
“Not yet.”
I glared at Finn, ready to snap. My nerves had been frayed all week, and I wasn’t sure if it had to do with work or with the way my brain never wanted to stop thinking about Silas. The way we’d left things on Saturday after lunch was painfully open-ended, but there’d been so much promise in his words.
Tucking my hands under the table, I rubbed my thumb mindlessly over the spot he’d kissed and bitten. I wanted to taste him for real, more than the aftertaste that came with pressing my own mouth against the heel of my hand after he left, chasing after anything I could get of him. I wanted his teeth on me again, I wanted him hurting and desperate and snapping at the bit.
There was something wrong with me.
“Let me up,” I said to Smith, knocking my shoulder into his.
“Calling your boyfriend?” Finn teased.
“I have to piss, you degenerate.”
