Page 29 of Loving You

“Do you have a minute?”

Bronx looked up from his laptop a little gratefully because he’d been dealing with a permit issue for the last half hour. He was supposed to be participating in the conversation with the other guys, but his work life was starting to encroach on every facet of his personal life.

“Shoot.”

Lane gave him a tentative smile. “So, normally I’m a fan of a kid’s autonomy, especially when they’re teenagers, but Lucas asked me for something, and I wanted to run it by you first because I don’t have experience with blind people.”

Bronx did his best not to get immediately defensive. The guys were really good about Lucas. They had been since the day Bronx and Lucas showed up. But he knew there was going to be a moment where things got weird.

“Look, if he can babysit Dallas’s infant child, I’m sure he’s going to do great with Briar. And he really has been wanting to earn some extra cash this?—”

“No,” Lane interrupted, then looked embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off, but I don’t mean Briar. He’s already done some babysitting for me, and he’s been great. No, uh…he asked me for a job.”

“Like…a nanny job?”

Lane flushed and shook his head, and it took Bronx a second to remember why. But ah, yes, it was because he’d fucked his last nanny. “I’m covered on that front. No, uh. So, my restaurant’s expanding. One of my sous wants to run a food truck, and Lucas overheard me talking about hiring a few people from outside the restaurant to help run it. He asked me if I’d be willing to train him.”

Bronx sat back hard. This was the first he’d ever heard of Lucas wanting to work in a kitchen. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t cook. The school he’d gone to had given all the students basic life skills training, and Lucas had never once started a fire or burned himself worse than Bronx had done.

But a professional kitchen seemed…risky. Or maybe he was just being an overprotective dickhead again.

“It would be part-time to start,” Lane said quickly. “I talked to a guy up in Baltimore who works for a vocational rehab center, and he said he could come down and make the restaurant kitchen and the food truck accessible for him. But it’s a job I normally wouldn’t hire a teenager for. It’s a lot of work, and it can get really stressful, so I wanted to talk to you first. I don’t want to cross lines, you know?”

Bronx passed a hand down his face. “I feel like he’d literally eviscerate me in my sleep if he knew you and I were discussing this without him.”

“Oh,” Lane said, his eyes wide, “I told him I had to talk to you about it first. He didn’t love that, but he didn’t fight me onit either.”

That was more trust than Bronx probably deserved right then. “I don’t want to stand in his way. I think I’ve done that enough. If you’re sure you can get the kitchen accessible enough for him to do the work that needs to be done—and if you don’t mind the amount of training he’ll need because he’s never had a job before—I think I’d be okay with it. If you are.”

To Bronx’s relief, Lane looked thrilled. “Yeah?”

Fuck, was this real life? Most of Bronx and Jules’s friends had tolerated Lucas at best. But no one had ever attempted to get to know him, let alone rearrange a professional kitchen so he could work there.

“Maybe he’ll stop hating me so much if I let him do this.”

Bronx startled when Dallas sat beside him, knocking him against his laptop. “He doesn’t hate you.”

“He’s pissed at me. Really pissed at me.”

Adele came in from the kitchen with Briar on his shoulders. “All teenagers are pissed at their parents to some degree. I don’t know when it gets better, but I’ll let y’all know.”

Bronx rolled his eyes, but it was hard to argue with that. He looked back at his computer and saw another three emails had popped up. Maybe he could just retire or something. Or apply at an established vet’s office. Anything to avoid the nightmare that was starting up his own practice.

Christ, he needed to blow off some steam. Between one blink and the next, he pictured Monty’s face in his mind, and he went hot deep in his core. He could only hope it wasn’t showing on his face.

The guys were distracted by Adele telling them how awful their lives were going to become when their kids hittheir tweens, so Bronx took the opportunity to slide his phone out of his pocket and pull up Monty’s contact.

They’d exchanged one text each.

Monty: I enjoyed that.

Bronx: Me too.

They both said so little but meant so damn much, and Bronx felt a soul-deep craving for more. He was treading in dangerous waters. He could fall for a man like Monty far too easily, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to risk having his heart broken because having his heart and his pride bruised had been bad enough.

But the temptation was too much. He couldn’t resist.

Bronx: I want to see you again, sparky.

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