Page 18 of Winning You
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a hundred years,” Monty said, holding him tight.
Lucas felt a pulse of joy in his chest, which eclipsed all the badness that had been settling there since that fucker Frankie had knocked on his food truck door the first time. He let his forehead rest against Monty’s shoulder, and the man rocked him gently from side to side.
Monty had been doing this for a few years now, ever since realizing how much that sort of movement soothed Lucas. The only bitterness that lived in Lucas’s bones now was how long it took for his dad to find this man.
God, why had he lived with his other douchebag dad for so long?
“You okay?”
“Mm.” He turned his head to listen for Gage, but clearly, he’d been drawn into another room. Fuck, he didn’t even knowwhere he was. He’d lost track as soon as they walked in the door. The kitchen? Foyer? “Where’s my dad?”
“On the couch. He’s got a migraine hangover, but he’s going to be happy to see you.”
Lucas stepped away and set his hand on the back of Monty’s shoulder, letting the man lead him through the familiar path. They’d been in the foyer, and he felt the shift between tile and hardwood when they crossed into the living room.
“Wow. My son. He lives.”
Lucas pulled a face and walked toward his dad’s voice, letting Monty steer him around the coffee table until his dad’s hand met his. Bronx’s touch was always more than welcome. It made Lucas feel like a kid again. Like he could just crawl onto his lap and press his head to Bronx’s chest and listen to his heartbeat until he fell asleep.
He didn’t do that anymore. He knew it would look weird as fuck, and people would ask questions and call him a creep even more than they did now. He settled for letting his dad drag him to the couch cushions and tucking himself into his dad’s side.
“You look upset.”
“You sound annoying,” he shot back.
Bronx sighed. “I’m being serious, bud. What happened?”
He both loved and hated that his dad could tell. Swallowing thickly, he shrugged. “Who’s in the room right now?”
“Just me,” Monty said quietly. “Your uncle and cousin are outside playing. Kash is asleep, and Adele is grilling something. I think Gage went out there to talk to him.”
Lucas took a breath, feeling more relaxed. It wasn’t like he didn’t want the rest of the men he considered his uncles to know what was going on. But some of them—most of them—would make a big fucking deal out of it, and Lucas was tired.
Bronx was finally respecting his choices and independence, so if Lucas said not to get involved with his work, Bronx would listen.
“I was unfairly targeted by the health inspector,” he said. He told the story, grudgingly admitting when Frankie had returned to apologize. But he found himself leaving out the bit where Frankie was his new neighbor. He wasn’t quite sure why. “Sometimes I think it’s never going to end. Like everyone’s first impression is going to be crap.”
“It might be,” Bronx said quietly. “Not with everyone, but with most people. It’s shit, I know.”
Lucas flopped his head onto his dad’s shoulder and rubbed at his eyelids. His prosthetics moved around uncomfortably, and he felt the sudden urge to take them out. Once he became aware of them, he could feel them to the point of distraction, but he tried to breathe through it. “Gage says I can’t get away with murder. Even with my adorable face.”
Bronx snorted. “Unfortunately, I don’t think we live in a county where the judges side with the perpetrator because they have a cute face.”
“Maybe a sexy gay judge who falls in love with me at first sight,” Lucas said. “I mean, there has to be some benefit to sight, doesn’t there?”
“That’s…not a thing.”
“Bullshit. You two did,” Lucas accused.
Monty laughed. “It was far from love. And anyone sitting on a judge’s bench would be too old for you.”
He felt something squirm in his gut. He had no idea what Frankie looked like or how old he was. His voice was husky, which meant his age was somewhat ambiguous, and it wasn’t like he could ask the guy.
Though they were neighbors, so maybe he’d get the chance.
Not that he’d do anything with that information. He wasn’t attracted to Frankie.
Even if that thought carried the weight of a lie.
