Kade shakes his head. “I can’t stand ‘em. I used to try, back when we started expanding, but I was so distracted by the fucking thing I couldn’t focus.”
“Do any of your brothers wear a tie?” I’m deeply curious about where he goes and the people he spends his days with. I want to know more about his brothers.
His smile crinkles up the corner of his eyes. “Some,” he shrugs. “Ransom does sometimes. A few of the other guys do too, depending on the situation. But Jonas has a thing about clothes. He only dresses in things he feels are comfortable. The fucking president could come to visit, and he’d still wear a T-shirt and cardigan.”
I laugh and slide my feet into my heels, Kade’s hand on my elbow to stabilize me. I don’t need help to balance, but no way am I telling him that. I just enjoy the feel of his hand on me instead.
“What does Jonas do again?” I can’t remember which brother he is.
“He’s the money guy. CFO technically. All I know is if it involves numbers, he’s the guy to talk to.”
The awe in Kade’s voice is interesting. He doesn’t talk about anyone in quite the same way, not even Ransom.
“You respect him,” I say.
Kade nods and escorts me down the stairs and through the yard to his truck. I’m on the verge of asking more questions when he speaks again.
“Jonas is like no one I’ve ever met.” Kade opens the door and waits for me to settle in the seat before continuing. “He’s got Autism. I don’t really know the specifics. Jonas doesn’t really talk about it. But the way his brain works is fucking magical.” He closes the door and jogs around, hopping into the driver’s seat of the truck.
“Magical?”
Kade smiles as he starts the truck. “He remembers fucking everything,” he laughs before clarifying. “Well, when it comes to numbers, anyway. He couldn’t tell you what he ordered for lunch today at a restaurant, but he’ll remember how much every item on the bill was.”
I smile, completely fascinated. “He sounds unique.”
Kade shrugs. “He’s my brother.”
The easy way he says that. The absolute confidence he has in their relationship steals my breath for a moment. I rub my aching chest.
“You okay?” Kade asks with a frown.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Kade shoots me a look, but he lets it go and we sit listening to the quiet radio, watching the setting sun light up the high-rises around us, lost in our own thoughts.
I’m not okay.
I’m alone.
I love hearing about all of Kade’s brothers. If Kade and Micah’s relationship is typical of the way they all interact, then they love each other, flaws and all. They’re this battle-worn and scarred unit.
Perfect in its imperfection.
And I want that with every cell in my body. I want to have a home. I want people I know I can depend on when life gets stormy. People who are there to hold me up when I need it. And who know without a shadow of a doubt that I’ll be there for them too, no questions asked.
I had that with Dad. And while he was alive, I thought I had it with the family we built at the Dojo. But the ties that bound us were weak, unable to take the death and grief that wore away at them like acid.
But Kade’s family? They were forged in fire, in hardship, the connections between them made of the strongest steel. Unbreakable. I wonder, not for the first time, if there’s room for a new member.
“This isthe fanciest restaurant I’ve ever been to,” I whisper to Kade as we follow the waitress through the dimly lit room, my fingers tangled with his. I swear thousands of little chandeliers light the way, their crystals reflecting the candles at each table. I worry again that I’m underdressed. Wishing for a moment that I was small and delicate and could flow through a room, easily weaving through tables.
But then I’d have to give up my stellar ass. That would be sad, so I maybe I’m better off with the big ass and wide hips. They’ve served me well up to this point.
I return my focus to the room and the hostess’ swinging hips. She nearly smacks an older gentleman’s elbow as she passes. I’d wonder what Kade’s thinking of her ass if he wasn’t gently stroking my thumb as we walk.
He’s not thinking of her at all.
When we get to the table, Kade pulls out my chair. I have a moment of panic, wondering how the hell that works, then decide to hover like I’m using the grungy bathroom at the beach I used to go to as a kid. It works, and I relax and sit when I feel the chair sliding in.
