Gray chuckled. “Told you he wouldn’t want to be a prison warden.”
“What?” Holden asked.
“He’s just joking,” I said. “No one called you that.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” He waggled his phone. “I put in an order to Sauced. Hope you all want pizza.”
“I’m down,” Gray said. “Did you get lots of meat?”
“You know it,” Holden said. “Is that okay by you, Flynn?”
“Yeah. Let me know what I owe you.”
I’d packed a peanut butter sandwich. I was trying to save money so I could send most of my paycheck to Aiden. He’d had to get by on his own for seven years, but now I could help.
But pizza sounded a lot better to my growling stomach. If I ended up working past dinner, it would hold me longer too.
“Don’t worry about paying anything,” Holden said. “Just keep working hard.”
“I will.”
Gray shook his head. “Don’t say that to Flynn. He’ll take you too seriously.”
“Right,” Holden said. “I forgot you’re not one of my lazy-ass brothers. Work hard, but not too hard.”
“Okay, thanks.” I turned back to the SUV, but Gray cleared his throat.
Right. Lunch.
I turned back around, and Gray raised an eyebrow. “Pizza and beer first, Flynn. Don’t make me kick your workaholic ass.”
I smiled reluctantly. The brothers were pretty cool. I was pushing myself too hard. Harder than they wanted. But I needed to prove myself before it was too late.
I really didn’t want to go back to square one, like Winslow had said. It would be depressing to start over after the time and energy put into training for this job.
“I just want to do a good job for you guys,” I said. “Losing Bailey was hard on you all. I’m trying to fill his shoes, but I know it’s not the same.”
“You’re doing just fine,” Gray said. He was a nurturer at heart.
Axel was the sarcastic one who’d crack jokes all day. Holden was the bossy one who held the family and their business together.
Bailey was?—
Gone.He was the brother who was gone, and I should really not think about him any other way. At nineteen, he was too young for me. Too naïve. Too sheltered.
Too everything for a felon.
But mostly, too out of reach.
Holden’s office phone rang, and he held up a finger. “Be right back.”
Gray went to the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers. “Drink up, Flynn. Work will be waiting after lunch.”
He tossed a beer my way, and I took a hurried step forward to catch it as the throw came up short.
“Good save,” Gray said with a grin.
I cracked the top and took a gulp. I was hot and thirsty. Summer had extended into October this year, and we were still regularly having eighty-degree days.
