Page 36 of The Trust
I’m so deep in my feels, I don’t register the time until after I hit answer on Lemon’s name.
“What’s wrong?”
“Y-you … um …”
His swallow is so thick, I can hear it over the phone.
I go to slide out from underneath my man and our cat without disturbing them, but Cookie jumps away and Mac grumbles.
“Sorry,” I say to them and climb out of the bed.
“Jordan …” Lemon mumbles and the hairs on the back of my neck stand.
“I’m throwing clothes on now. Tell me where you are.”
The clearing of his throat feeds over the line before he whispers, “The gym.”
I stiffen. Look at Mac who’s staring at me with a wideness to his sleepy eyes I don’t like and swallow back my apprehension.
“I’m coming.”
Pocketing the phone, I shove my arms through a shirt and jam my feet into my sneakers as I all but run to the door.
“What’s going on?”
“Lock this behind me.”
I throw him a look, one that begs him to listen for once in his damn life, but he just throws one back that tells me he won’t.
Lemon …
With a curse, I grab Mac’s wrist, thankful he threw on shorts when I did, and pull him along with me.
My stomach rolls with nerves when we reach the main floor, and I don’t see the short wingman that’s helped me run this place since I bought it. The second-best friend I’ve ever had.
The one that helped me get Mac back.
“Lemon!” Mac calls before I get a chance to and starts tugging me toward the front.
His fingers are still entwined in mine when Lemon steps back inside, his nose red from the cold—or from crying, I’m not sure—and nearly breaks down when he sees us.
I rush forward, gathering him up in my free arm, Mac coming around his other side.
“You’re okay, Lem. You’re okay. Tell me what happened.”
He lets loose a shaking breath and bounces his watering gaze between Mac and me.
“Daddies, there’s a whole line.”
Part of me wants to smile at his nickname for us, but I’m confused. And worried. And nearly ready to start throwing fists at anyone else that might be outside for making Lemon react like this.
“What do you mean a line?” Mac asks, his fingers tightening in mine that he’s refusing to let go of—or is it me?—and he pets Lemon’s head with the other.
His eyes fill again.
“There’s a line ofusoutside. They wanna be part of the gym.”
I blink, my stomach twisting, and glance at Mac.
