"I think it's okay to miss one day," he tells me, humour in his dry tone.
I slap his shoulder playfully and immediately regret it when it pulls on my ribs. I groan and rest my hand where it's sore.
Luc steps towards me, concerned but doesn’t make a move to touch me. "Do you mind if my friend has a look later? He's got EMT training. He's super smart."
"Yeah," I nod, slowly, "that's fine. I think only one's broken, the rest are just bruised."
Luc nods, a dangerous, protective look in his eyes. Oddly, it doesn’t make me nervous or scared. Honestly, that look reminds me of Drake.
Regardless, I ignore it and start eating. It doesn't take long until it's gone. I haven't had a home-cooked meal in a long time, at least one I haven’t cooked.
"Can I get you anything else?" Luc asks, taking my plate before I can object. I walk around to where he's standing.
"You can let me help you clean up. I'm perfectly capable of putting my plate in the dishwasher." I roll my eyes.
"My grandmother would skin me alive if I let her Butterfly clean up," he reasons.
"Your grandmother is a strong, independent woman who doesn’t let anyone do anything for her,” I shoot back.
I tug the plates from his hand and put them in the dishwasher. I have to hold back a groan when I’m reminded of my ribs.
He gives me a knowing look when I slowly straighten and I stick my tongue out at him.
"Be careful, Butterfly," he murmurs, heat in his gaze. "I can think of a couple of uses for that."
By the time I've controlled myself, he's turned away, humming as he goes.
"You're dangerous," I tell him.
Luc grins. "It would be rather odd if I wasn't." His smile widens at my confused look.
"My name's Luc Beckham," he tells me. I give him the 'duh I know that' look. "As in Lucifer."
My mouth drops open. "Oh. Ohhhh." That…makes sense.Who names their kid Lucifer?
I put the carton of eggs back in the fridge while he wipes down the benches. He smiles to himself as he does.
"You're not one of those people who like cleaning, are you?" People who enjoy cleaning make me concerned that they’re cultivating their skills for one day cleaning up more nefarious things than food on benches.
Luc looks over at me like I've grown a second head. "What?"
"You're smiling. While you clean," I inform him.
He chuckles. "Nah. Just thinking about what the guy's reaction to you will be. It'll be hilarious."
I hesitate before asking, "Will they be okay that I'm here?"
Luc stops what he's doing and walks over. He puts his hands on my shoulders and I tilt my head up to look at him.
"Rory, I asked you to stay here. My grandmother's asked you to stay here. You've chosen to stay here." I open my mouth to interrupt but he gives me a look that has me swallowing my words. "The guys will be fine. Some of them may take a bit to warm up to you because of a few things that have happened lately but they will never make you feel uncomfortable or like you don't belong." Luc squeezes my shoulders gently and I slowly nod.
"Okay, Luci."
"Wait. What?" Luc raises one eyebrow.
"You just told me your name was Lucifer. What do you expect me to do?" I grin as he groans.
"But that's a girl's name!" He whines, pouting.
