Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(13)



Guilt dug in deeper. It had only been a few months, but Charlie and Drew seemed like they were each a head taller.

He grinned down at me, showing a gap where two front teeth should’ve been. “’Cause you’re never freaking here.”

Lawson groaned. “You know your grandma doesn’t like you saying freaking.”

“It’s not even a swear,” Drew muttered.

“Maybe not, but this is her house, so we play by her rules. Right?”

“We play by her rules because she makes cookies,” Charlie chimed in.

“Smart man,” I whispered, setting him down in the entryway.

“Luke,” Lawson called.

“What?” a voice snapped back—one deeper than I remembered.

Lawson pinched the bridge of his nose. “God save me from teenagers.”

“I’m not a teenager,” Charlie said helpfully.

“And I thank my lucky stars for that every single day.”

Drew rolled his eyes. “We’re not that bad.”

Lawson lifted his brows. “Paintballing the side of the house? Luke taking my car for a joyride when he doesn’t have a license? The yelling at decibels not fit for human ears?”

Drew gave his dad a sheepish smile. “We’re keeping you young.”

“You’re giving me gray hair.”

There was humor in Lawson’s voice, but there was also bone-deep fatigue. I had no idea how he kept up with it all, but maybe I could help lessen his load while I was here.

“Luke, get your butt out here. It’s time for dinner,” Lawson called.

There was nothing for a good minute, and then a teen I barely recognized emerged from the basement. Luke was only fifteen, but he looked older. His dark hair curled around his ears, and he had a scowl on his face that resembled Roan more than it did Lawson.

“Hey, Luke.”

He lifted his chin in my direction. “Hey.” Then, just as quickly, he dismissed me as he started toward the open-concept kitchen and living space.

Lawson’s mouth pressed into a hard line. “Sure you don’t want to stay with us? You could get the cold shoulder twenty-four-seven. It’s a dream.”

I chuckled. “I think there was a season we were all pretty surly with Mom and Dad. I’d say that’s normal.”

He grimaced. “I’m being punished for my misspent youth.”

Nash leaned in to whisper in Lawson’s ear. “But it was worth it.”

Lawson shook his head as we all started for the kitchen. “You haven’t gotten your payback yet. Just wait until you’re raising a handful of hell-raisers just like you.”

Nash’s head jerked. “Bite your tongue. I’m not going down that road anytime soon.”

Grae grinned. “I can’t wait until someone takes you down.”

“Me? Never. I’m way too practical.”

It wasn’t that. It was that Nash had only ever cared for one girl. And when he screwed that all to hell, he’d built and kept those walls sky-high.

“Holt!” Mom hurried from the kitchen and pulled me into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Thanks for making dinner.”

“Your favorite.”

I tried to hide my wince with another fake smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

She released me, and I started toward my dad, who sat on the couch, his leg propped up on an oversized ottoman. It was out of the cast, but he was clearly still nursing it. “Hey, Dad. How are you feeling?”

His lips pursed, the lines on his face deepening. “You didn’t have to come check on me. I told you I was fine.”

My brows rose. Ornery was right.

“Thought it was time I came for a visit that lasted longer than a few days.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed on me. “Why? That sure as hell never mattered to you before.”

My mom gasped. “Nathan.”

I held up a hand. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Grae said, glaring at our father.

“She’s right,” Nash chimed in. “Not cool, old man.”

Dad swung his leg off the ottoman and stood, limping toward the dining table. “I’m just speaking the truth. I’m not going to run around preparing some feast for the prodigal son when I know he’ll probably take off tomorrow.”

Grae squeezed my arm. “He doesn’t mean it. He’s hurting and throwing himself a pity party.”

“He does mean it,” I said quietly. I just didn’t know how I’d let things get this bad.





4





WREN





I sat in my truck, staring at the restaurant. My gaze tracked the script on the sign: The Warf. I needed to go in. I was already five minutes late. If I let it drag to ten, I’d be firmly in the rude category. That wasn’t who I was.

But when I’d said yes to dinner with some real estate guy on vacation from Seattle, I hadn’t known what today would hold. The thought had anger flooding my system. He didn’t get to do this.

It was bad enough that I measured every guy I ever went on a date with against Holt. A mental tally that always left the new guy coming up short. But now he was invading my physical space, too?

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