“Driving while distracted is dangerous.” The words come out flat, but they still feel like swallowing glass.
“Right, right,” York shakes his head, his tone dismissive.
Right.
Fuck.
I stride back to my vehicle and run him because it’s what I’m supposed to do. Brother or not, this is the job.
Even though I knew he’d come back clean, I blow out a relieved breath all the same. When I take his papers back to him, I lean down more to his level.
“I’m going to give you a warning this time, but you need to pay attention. You’re basically driving around in a battering ram.”
One side of his mouth twitches and I wish this could be different. He opens his mouth and closes it a few times before nodding, his voice hoarse, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He might have blown me off before, but I can see the sincerity in his eyes this time. He’s not just telling me what I want to hear.
That’ll be a hard habit to break. Especially since he learned from the best.
“Drive safely,” I tell him, meaning it.
Even though there is a rift between us now, he’s still my brother. I don’t feel bad for the decision I made; I’d do it all over again.
Because I know where I’m going when I get off shift. And I can’t fucking wait.
Just as I’m about to turn away, York blurts out, “Aiden, I know things are bad right now, but I miss my brother. I don’t want dad and his shit to ruin our relationship.”
I study my brother’s face, looking for the lie and the slick politician spin. But I just see a sliver of the man he used to be.
“I’m not going to keep my mouth shut about Dad and I will not tolerate a bad word said about my woman or her friends,” I warn him.
“You drive a really easy bargain,” he gives me a small smile, amusement in his tone.
“Oddly enough, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”
York gives me an odd look but then shrugs. “Can we get together for a drink soon?”
I knock on the top of his car and nod. “Of course. I miss my brother too.”
As I’m walking away from his car, I feel lighter. Working on not completely losing my relationship with my brother is a good thing. I just hope he understands how serious I am about the lines I’ve drawn. If he crosses them, I’m done.
I’m exhausted by the time I make it to Greylin’s house. My body relaxes when I step inside. It’s her lemon and verbena scent. It’s everywhere and it’s home.
Not wanting to waste time when I got here, I showered at the station and changed. The last fucking thing I was going to do was stop at home to change or shower. Fuck. No.
The first place I go to is the closet where I lock up my service weapon. When she gave me a key, it was the first thing I added.
As I strip out of the sweats I threw on, my eyes take in Greylin. She looks so fucking peaceful right now, her pink lips parted and her eyelashes fanning across the apple of her cheeks.
So damn pretty.
I slide under the sheet in just my boxers, my hand finding the soft skin of her thigh where the oversized shirt she’s wearing has ridden up. She mumbles something I can’t make out before stretching.
“It’s okay, darlin’,” I murmur and a smile curls her lips while her eyes stay closed.
“You’re home late,” she mutters. “Everything okay?”
Home. The word rattles around in my chest and changes my understanding of the concept.
