“Is that wrong?” He looks so terribly confused that I have a hard time staying upset. Dammit, he’s too adorable for me to keep the scowl on my face. “I thought it’d be a nice gesture for Valentine’s, Letti.” My heart sinks into my chest—maybe I’m being too hard on him becausehisheart was in the right place.
“It is,” I clarify. “Thank you for being thoughtful and ordering them for us. I didn’t think of it in the context I should have.” I walk over to where he’s leaning against the wall and lift up on my toes, kissing him under the chin since it’s the only place my short stature will let me reach. His beard tickles my nose which causes it to twitch.
He gives me a speculative glance before bending down and lightly grazing his lips across mine. “You’re welcome. The order will be here soon. When the doorbell rings, let me answer it, okay?”
“Okay,” I answer before asking, “did you remember the tip this time?”
“No, they ask too much, it’s highway robbery. I give cash for the tips,” he informs me, scowling. “That way I can see what kind of car they’re driving to know how much gas they’ve used.”
“It’s not just about the gas, Viking, it’s about their time too,” I say, sighing. “Be generous, they’re losing time with their familyto bring the goodies to us. You never know, it could be a single parent needing the cash to pay a bill.”
“Huh. Never thought of it that way,” he grumbles.
I smile, pat his chest and get back to work, letting him ponder my words.
When the buzzer rings, I continue working while he goes to the door and answers it. My eyes widen when I hear him begin interrogating the driver. I lean around the corner and notice it’s a pimply teen who looks scared half to death when he takes in my man’s imposing stature.
“You have any kids?” he asks the delivery driver.
“No, sir,” the kid basically wheezes out.
“You do drugs?” he continues with his line of questioning.
“Absolutely not,” the kid answers, sounding offended. “I’m getting a scholarship, I can’t afford to lose it or I can’t go to school.”
“Good,” Viking grunts, crossing his beefy arms across his barreled chest. “Tell me why I should give you more in a tip than what you need to cover your gas.”
“Icer!” I snap, ready to call him out for being rude and invasive. When he holds his hand up stopping me, I pause in my tracks. What the hell is he up to?
“I don’t understand what you’re asking, sir,” the kid says, fumbling around his words.
“You claim you don’t do drugs, so I’m assuming you don’t drink either?” he poses the question to which the kid nods. “What would you use the money on if I don’t give you more than the three bucks it took for you to drive these two blocks to me?”
“I split the tips I make with my mom. My dad died six months ago of cancer which is why I took this job in the first place. I graduated last year and pushed college off by a year to try and help her so that when I eventually leave, she’s not struggling so badly trying to pay for his medical bills that piled up.”
“Do you have any siblings still at home?” Viking asks.
“I do, sir. Two baby sisters that are still in school,” the kid tells him, breaking my heart. Elodie comes up beside me and places her hand in mine, feeling the tension in the room.
“What do they need that’d help your family get by?” By the time he asks this question to the boy, tears are streaking down my cheeks.
“Why don’t you invite him inside to where he’s more comfortable, baby?” I pipe up and suggest.
He’s waved indoors which he skeptically accepts. Once he notices the kids, his fear eases and a smile graces his face. He’s too young to look so worn.
“What’s your name?” I ask him as he’s shown to the couch.
“Zeke, ma’am,” he answers, introducing himself by sticking out his hand for a shake.
I place my hand in his and tell him who I am before pointing at the others and putting a name with their faces, my intent, to make him feel more at ease.
We break out the cupcakes and offer one to him which he gladly accepts. I give G one of his fruit pouches and plop him on my lap as we get to know Zeke. This kid and his family have been put through the ringer. By the time he leaves, it’s with a wad of cash in his pocket, even though the boy protested until Icer came out to play and didn’t give him any other choice but accepting it, even if he was resigned to do so.
It’s one in the morning and Elodie just crashed. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be because she didn’t become wild and rambunctious, she used the excess energy to help fill boxes. My man’s hands comb through my hair as I lay across his chest, listening to his heart beat. “We don’t publicize this, but every year, the club adopts a family in need. After Zeke left, I went into the other room and called Slayer. I gave him the information on the boy and his family. We’re going to pay off their mortgage so they don’t lose their house, which according to Booker, they’re very close to doing. We’ll contact the utility companies and put our card on file to pay their monthly bills for the remainder of the year, if the mom’s still struggling, we’ll expand that by another year. Slayer’s going to pay off their cars out of his pocket and I’m going to buy some gift cards to cover their groceries and fill their closets with clothes and shoes. I’m sure once word gets around, the others will chip in too.”
Clearing my throat so the tears don’t fall, I offer, “I’ll talk to the other old ladies, we’ll pitch in as well. Give the mom a break and cook dinner for them once a week, shuttle the kids around for her so she can hold down a job and doesn’t have to worry about picking them up and leaving work early and being fired, losing that income.”
“We’ll get them back on their feet,” he muses.
