Page 6 of The Love Destroyers

Groaning, I grab my phone off my nightstand and check it—

We’re doing it, Shay. Are you in or are you out?

Oh, hell.

The text is from Wally at the garage I work at in the city, and it isnotgood news.

I know exactly what he’s talking about. A few weeks ago, he got approached by a crime boss about laundering money through the garage and giving a few stolen cars new parts and paint jobs.

I don’t need to think about it. I’ve been there, done that, nearly gotten killed because of it. I tap out a response.

Out, brother. And you should be too.

Which means I’m also out of a job.

It’s not exactly hard to find a job as a mechanic, but the timing is shit. I just blew all my money on a car I’ll probably never get running—a sweet, four-door AMC rambler.

Suddenly feeling miles away from sleep, I head downstairs with the intention of grabbing a smoke. My brother informed me my ass would be handed to me if I attempted doing it from the window, and even though that automatically made me want totry, I’m attempting to be on my best behavior. Which is what led to the whole not-fucking Emma decision.

But when I get downstairs, Chuck is reclined on the couch, watching, I shit you not, reruns ofThe Nannywhile drinking what appears to be hot chocolate. He’s silver-haired, medium height, and a bit burly, although more like a teddy bear than a boxer. And right now he’s giving me an aw-shucks look as if I caught him doing lines of cocaine.

“I don’t suppose we can keep this to ourselves?” he asks.

“Uh, which part?”

His taste in reruns? The late hour? The flannel pajamas he’s wearing?

“The hot chocolate,” he says in an undertone, glancing at the stairs. “I’m supposed to cut down on sugar and fat, but there’s nothing like a good cup of hot chocolate to help you get to sleep. I know that shouldn’t be true, because of the sugar, but I’ll be darned if it doesn’t work.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to narc on you for drinking hot chocolate,” I say with a laugh, running a hand through my hair. This man is so wholesome I’m surprised he made it to his sixties. In the neighborhood where I grew up in Pennsylvania, he would have been eaten alive. People used to give shit to my brother, Declan, who’s been the size of a tank since he was twelve, just because he liked taking care of plants.

“Thanks,” Chuck says with obvious relief. “Will you join me?”

He sits up, clearing space on the cushions. Nicotine is calling my name, but I don’t like being under anyone’s lock and key—even a cigarette’s. If I can put off having a smoke for a few minutes, I figure it’s a good sign that I’m still partly in control.

I settle down next to him, wincing at the laugh track on the old show.

“Oh, I should have offered,” Chuck says, misinterpreting my reaction. “Would you like some hot chocolate? I got special marshmallows.”

“No thanks,” I say, bemused. “So what’s keeping you up, man? The engagement?”

My brother just proposed to Chuck’s daughter, so the engagement is new. Lots of marriage going on around these parts. Maybe it’s good we’re gonna have a divorce attorney around.

Former divorce attorney.

My mind dips back to what Emma told me about her shitty ex. I find myself cracking my knuckles, thinking of what I’d like to do the guy for pulling a thing like that on her.

Chuck sets down his cocoa cup. “Oh, I’m thrilled for the kids. Truly thrilled. Declan and Claire are perfect together.”

He clearly means it. I wonder if he’d be this earnest if he knew my brother used to grow weed for our uncle, who was a crime lord. Or that I’d done my own dabbling for the family business. Honestly, I give it 50/50. Chuck is so determined to think well of the world, he’d probably come up with a list of handy excuses we could make for ourselves.

There’s something admirable about his good humor—and it also makes me think someone had better watch his back to make sure he doesn’t get stabbed or swindled. To my surprise, I find myself wanting to do the job.

He’s looking at me with furrowed brows, so I add, “Yeah. Me too. Thrilled for the kids.”

He gives me a good-natured smile. “You’re having a laugh at me.”

“I’d never. So what’s got you up and drinking hot chocolate?”

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