“It’s okay. Finding out you have family you never knew—especially when you’re all out of your own—that seems like wet-eye territory.”
I suck in a breath that’s all too real. “It—it is.”
“You hungry? My cousin’s coffee shop is legendary around here. And she’s not supposed to be working today. Which is good. Sabrina sees all, hears all, and knows all, if you know what I mean.”
My breathing evens out, and my gratitude for Lucky being so kind grows infinitely. Would he have been as kind if he’d been raised how I was? “Town gossip?” I ask.
“Kind of. She doesn’t share what she knows unless it’s harmless or unless she has to. And she’s awesome, but like…we want some time before we have her in the know about you. But if you like lemon scones and coffee, there’s nowhere better in the world.”
I like coffee, but today? On this stomach? It’s settling the longer we talk, but everyone’s always on their best behavior for a first meeting.
And the part of me that’s had my family ripped apart the past few years can’t help the desperate craving for Lucky and his brothers to like me.
To want to be my family too.
Idoknow DNA doesn’t make family. Butgod, I swear I see Daphne’s smile in his, and how can I not want to be family with that? “Any tea?” I ask.
He grins. “Oh, hell yeah. Tea too.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
He slings an arm around my shoulders. “Then let’s go get some breakfast, and then I’ll show you Snaggletooth Creek. Ever been to the mountains?”
I grab my phone on our way out the door, breathing in the cool morning air.
So far, this is easy.
Comfortable.
All credit to Lucky—he’s easy to warm up to. Friendly and kind.
“I have. I came once with my mom,” I tell him, which isn’t a lie.
Exactly.
I’ve been to many mountains, many times with my mother, even if my mother isn’t who Lucky thinks she is. So technically, I’ve been once.
And a few other times too.
“Girls’ trip?” he asks.
“Gotta do special things every now and again, don’t you?”
“Nah. Gotta do special things at every opportunity.”
Honestly, how could Inotwant to be related to a guy who looks at life that way?
He opens the passenger door of his blue sedan, and I climb in.
While he circles the car, I quickly text Cyril that I’m headed to town with Lucky, then tuck my phone away before Lucky opens his own door.
“So is Lucky your real name or a nickname?” I ask him as he starts the car.
“Real name.” He grins. “I was supposed to be a Michael, but I was youngest and smallest and clearly headed for the most time in the NICU when we were born, so when one of the nursescalled me a lucky little fella, my parents shifted and decided I needed to be a Lucky.”
“It seems like it fits you.”
“So much better than Michael.” He shudders. “I must’ve known what they were planning, so I fought hardest to not be born until they’d reconsider.”
