Page 68 of Storm

I can’t bring myself to look at Richard as he eats his meal with impeccable manners, while my brothers surround him and shovel food in their mouths noisily.

It’s not until César, of all my brothers, is the first to address the elephant in the room. “So, you the reason our big sister’s got a baby on the way?”

My mouth drops open, but Cristián butts in. “Naw, man. That’s a different guy. He’s acop!” I snort, wanting to laugh, but Richard’s face turns pale.

“We aren’t going to talk about that. Mind your business and eat,” I say, pointing my fork at César. He’s watching Richard closely, then nods once and dives back in.

I’m relieved I was able to nip the topic before things devolved, but freaking Loren chimes in.

“You’renot a cop, right? You’d have a lot of explaining to do if you were and knocked Miri up. Because you’re kinda old.” He shovels a massive fork full of food into his mouth and keeps speaking. “Bet they’d be pissed at you.”

“Other guy was older,” Cristián adds unhelpfully.

My dad drops his hand on the table, rattling everyone’s dishes. “This is not the time to discuss this.”

Richard has completely stopped eating and looks lost over what to say. Furious at everyone, I pick up Richard’s plate along with mine. “We’re going to eat upstairs. Pull your shit together and stop being freaking rude.” To my dad, I add, “Their mouths are out of control. You need to get a handle on it. It’s not my job anymore.”

Stepping on the first step, I hiss when I see Tito sitting halfway up, his tail whipping side to say. “Lucifer, I’ll end you here and now if you fucking move.”

Chuckling, Richard puts a hand on my hip and guides me to the side. Climbing the stairs, he picks up the cat, whoof course, immediately starts purring, then finishes the journey to the second floor. I follow, then nod toward the guest room.

Letting Tito jump down, we go in and shut the door on his face.

“So, your family?—”

“Are filled with a bunch of fucking assholes. I’m really sorry about them. Here.” I shove his plate in his hand and move over to the wall and sit on the floor, leaving the futon for him.

In a surprise move, he chooses to sit on the floor next to me, stretching his legs out and crossing them at his ankles. Poking at his food, he gathers another bite.

“This is really good, considering you made it from nothing. Thank you for cooking.”

I’m no longer hungry, so I set my plate to my side and lean my head against the wall. “You’re welcome.”

I listen to him polish off his meal, then open my eyes when he sets his plate to the side as well. “Where are you going to sleep, Miriam?”

“Oh. Let me make up the bed for you. I promise you, you won’t sleep well on it, but it’s better than nothing.” I go to stand up, but he puts his hand on my thigh to stop me.

“Miriam.” His tone is full of warning, and I meet his gaze.

“Richard,” I respond, just as seriously. He doesn’t fall for it. “I’m going to sleep on the couch downstairs.” My statement is punctuated with a loud crash that vibrates the floor under our asses.

He shakes his head sharply. “Absolutely not. If we pull that out, it’ll easily fit the both of us. I won’t let you sleep down there. This is where you normally sleep when you visit, correct?”

“Maybe,” I bite out. “But it’s not appropriate.”

With a huff, he stands and holds out a hand to me. “Miriam, I’ve fucked you plenty of times and seen you naked. I think we can handle sleeping on a lumpy mattress together for one night.”

“You never slept next to me,” I point out, and he raises a brow.

“Blankets?”

Lifting my chin, I direct him to where they’re at. He grabs them and carries them to the bed, his large arms wrapped around a decades-old comforter.

Dropping everything on the mattress, he pulls the bed out and flattens it. “Maybe not, but I am tonight. Don’t worry about it though, I don’t snore too badly.”

“I do,” I tease.

We work together to make up the bed, then stare at each other. Without looking away, he lifts his chin toward the bed. “Crawl in, Miriam.”

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