Page 18 of Lawson & Jill

Chapter 6

Lawson squeezed the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his favorite chair. Today his brother Xavier would have been thirty-three years old. He and Asher had just done a joint call with their mother in Belgium.

God, he loved the woman to the moon and back, and he ached for her. Losing a husband and a son was more than one woman should ever have to bear, but she did it with grace and dignity.

He took another shuddering gulp of air and thanked God, and his brother Asher, that she didn’t know that Xavier had killed himself. Living thousands of miles away, that was one more burden she didn’t need to shoulder. Law knew Marie-Louise Thorne—she would somehow think she was at fault and she’d collapse in on herself.

He got up. It was time for a run. Something that would drive away the demons. His phone vibrated with a text. From his brother Asher, of course. He looked down.

Love you man.

Mom loves you.

Xave, wherever he is, loves you.

Law gulped down another shuddering breath and typed.

Back at you.

Law pushed up from his chair and looked out the window.

“Xave, I’m still pissed at you. But I mostly just miss you now. Happy birthday.”

He turned away and tensed when he heard his phone vibrate against the coffee table. What was Ash texting now?

Bought good beer, the kind that comes in a bottle. Limes are sliced. You tempted?

And with those last two words, Lawson felt his world tilt back into place. He’d been seeing Jill for two of the best weeks of his life, and her humor, sexiness, and plain old niceness had gotten to him like no other woman ever had. Law texted back.

I’ve been tempted since I met you.

He waited for a response and luckily it didn’t take long.

Do I bring the beer to you, or do you come to me?

His blood heated. If he said here, she’d take too long to get ready before coming over and he didn’t want to wait.

I’m heading over now.

He pressed send and grabbed the keys to his truck.

* * *

When she opened the door she could instantly tell that something was wrong. Oh, he smiled and said the right things when she let him in and he followed her into the kitchen, but his dimple was gone, and the light in his eyes was dim. But at the same time, he was making such an effort to put on a front that everything was hunky-dory, Jill wasn’t going to ask him what was up. Nope, it was time to just give him some normalcy and comfort. This she could do.

“I promised you beer and limes, I believe.”

“You even said the limes were already sliced.” He smiled as he scanned the kitchen. “I don’t see them. I only see a bowl of chips.”

“That’d be silly to leave them on the counter.” Jill chided. She went to the fridge and pulled out two Coronas, a bowl filled with limes covered with cling wrap, and a bowl full of homemade guacamole, also covered with cling wrap. “This concludes my level of cooking capability for a Mexican dinner.”

“Do you want to go out after beer, chips, and dip?” She could hear his lack of enthusiasm.

“Would you believe dinner should arrive in about ten minutes?”

His eyes finally lit up. Still no dimple, but she’d take it.

“No shit?”