I chuckled to myself. Ghost wasn’t social. But I wanted to check in on him.
Me:
I told the guys you might be a good fit for the junkyard out here. It’s pretty quiet. Mostly the dogs for company. Axel is a laid-back boss. He’ll let you do your thing.
Ghost:
You must trust me. Snake was dying for that job, and it was a no go.
Matteo:
Snake is no longer in the program for a reason.
Me:
You’re all good guys. I trust all of you. Except maybe Tex.
Tex:
Hey! I resemble that remark!
Bailey came into the living room, hair still a bit damp and curling around his ears. “Hey, you ready?”
I pocketed my phone. “Yeah, I’ve been ready.”
He went into the kitchen and grabbed his foil-covered casserole dish, and then we went out to his car. He’d insisted on driving me home Tuesday night. Insisted on taking care of me.
It was sweet. I would have been fine, but damn, ithadbeen nice to be washed and kissed andlovedso thoroughly. He’d continued the TLC all through the next day.
Just thinking of it made me squirm with a mix of guilt and arousal. Bailey had takenverygood care of me in bed too.
It was difficult for me to accept that I deserved that kind of care, but I’d heard Bailey. I was trying to open myself to it. Because he wanted an equal partnership, not another big brother figure, and I could respect that.
Hell, I didn’t want to be his brother either.
When we got to the house, it was chaos. Holden was yelling something about a missing platter. Gray was rolling his eyes so hard it looked as if he might stroke out. The dogs were running around, excited by all the food smells.
Emory nearly tripped over Shiloh, who was bent down, searching a cabinet. A bit of gravy sloshed on the floor, and Taz and Banshee broke out into a growling match over who should lick it up.
“For fuck’s sake,” Holden growled. “I will kick all you dogs out if?—”
“Sugar!” Emory cried out.
Axel’s rottweiler, the best-behaved of the bunch, stole a roll off the table and ran into the living room with her bounty.
“Wow. Is it always like this?”
Bailey grinned like the train wreck in the kitchen was the best thing he’d seen in years. “Yeah, man. It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving if Holden didn’t blow a gasket or the dogs didn’t steal food.”
I laughed. “Okay, then.”
Holden straightened when he saw us. I tensed a little, still unsure of my reception today. They’d seemed okay when we left the other night, but I’d dropped a hell of a bomb on them.
Now that they’d had more time to process, who knew if they’d feel the same?
“Hey, guys,” Holden said a little stiffly. “Glad you could make it.”
“Glad to be invited,” I said awkwardly.
