Page 11 of Can We Try?

“It’s the love,” Roman adds. He glances over at Forrest and smirks. “Makes the sex better.”

“Ack.” Forrest places his hands over his ears. “My baby sister,” he says, and we all laugh. We’ll be eighty, watching our grandkids, hell, our great-grandkids run around the yard, and Forrest will still react that way when it comes to Roman and Emerson.

“It’s more than sex,” Forrest adds, once he’s removed his hands from his ears. “It’s the connection that goes beyond… well, beyond anything I’ve ever known. I can’t even explain it to you, Lachlan, but I promise you, brother, when you find it, you’ll know and when you do, you’re going to want to hold on tight with everything you’ve got.”

“I’ll find her,” I agree. In the back of my mind, an image of Maggie with her long blonde hair splayed out on the dark sheets of my bed at the cabin filters through.

Could it be her? Could Maggie be my person? Is she feeling this… loss the same way that I am? I know I could just ask her, but we promised each other it would be one and done. I don’t want to break my promise, but the idea that we could possibly be more, well, that sparks something inside me that’s been dark for a long damn time.

The intercom beeps, and Lyra’s voice comes through the speaker. “Legend and Forrest, your next appointments are here.”

“You good?” Legend asks me.

“I’m good.” I nod. He claps me on the shoulder and leaves the room. Forrest, Roman, and Maddox all do the same before leaving me to my thoughts.

Today has been one of the longest, and it’s only a few minutes past five as I start my truck and head toward home. However, going home alone suddenly doesn’t appeal to me. Not after opening up to the guys and the thoughts of Maggie running constantly through my head. So, instead, I turn right and head toward my parents’ place. It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve stopped in, and I think some of Mom’s home cooking is exactly what I need.

The house is all lit up when I pull into the drive. After grabbing my cell and my keys, I make my way to the front door. I rap my knuckles a few times before turning the handle and calling out. My parents assure me I don’t have to knock, but there have been a few times I’ve walked in on them a little disheveled, and yeah, I don’t want to see that, so I always knock, call out, and walk slowly through the foyer and into the living room giving them time to get themselves together.

“Hey, Lachlan, what brings you by?” My dad stands from where he’s sitting in the recliner and pulls me into a hug.

“Just getting off work. Where’s Mom?”

“She went shopping with Cassie. They’re stopping to grab dinner and then heading home.”

Cassie is Maddox’s mom, and I love how our parents became friends because of our friendship growing up. “You had dinner yet?” I ask him.

“Nope. Have you?”

“No. Come on, old man. I’ll buy you some pizza and wings.”

“Don’t tell your mother. I’m supposed to be watching my cholesterol.”

I pause. “Everything okay?” Rodney Noble is not my biological father. That man I’ve never met. He found out my mom was pregnant and bailed. She met Rodney two years later. They married, and he adopted me. He is my father. It might not be his blood running through my veins, but this man raised me and loved me. Loves me like it is.

“Everything’s fine. I had a checkup and my numbers were slightly elevated. I’m not even taking medication. Your mother is just taking good care of me.”

There is a twinkle in his eyes that tells me he’s loving every minute of Mom fussing over him. “All right, but if you get me in trouble, I’m telling Mom you gave me my first beer at fifteen.”

“Hey! That’s between men.” He laughs. He holds out his hand. I place mine in his, and we shake on it. “Deal.”

The drive to Dough Daddies in town is short, and Dad catches me up on how work is going. He owns a small plumbing company, and he’s made quite a name for himself. Mom works for the city of Ashby in the title office. They’ve both had the same careers for as long as I can remember.

Once inside the restaurant, I lead us to a small booth in the back of the room. It’s the middle of the week, so the crowd isn’t nearly as heavy as it is on the weekends. The server rushes over, takes our drink order and scurries away with a wink in my direction.

“That still happens everywhere you go, huh? It’s the eyes. The ladies love those eyes.” He chuckles.

“Unfortunately,” I mutter.

Dad's grin grows wider. “Getting old, is it? All the female attention?”

“You could say that.”

“Does this mean your momma and I are going to get those grandbabies she’s always asking for?”

Dropping my menu to the table, I sit back in my side of the booth and sigh. “One day, I hope so,” I admit. “It was fun for a while, but watching the guys get married and have families, I can see the appeal.”

“I was just like you when I was younger.”

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