Page 30 of Laurels and Liquor

“Hey, Luc,” Rhett sighs, running his free hand through his hair.

Rhett’s in bed, judging by the color of the pillowcase I can see under his cheek. His hair is damp, and with this angle, I can tell that he’s not wearing a shirt.

“Lex texted me the news,” Rhett starts, grinning to himself.

I let out a relieved sigh. “I don’t know how Ted managed to pull it off,” I admit with a chuckle.

“I’m not going to question it. Lydia’s part of the pack now, and she’s safe. That’s all that matters,” Rhett replies, eyes growing distant.

I nod my agreement, relaxing into the pillow below me. Rhett’s scent is fading every day, and it’s getting harder and harder to not be near him. I haven’t brought up the idea of visiting, because it would be wildly unfair to Lydia if I could go to our alpha and she couldn’t. But maybe now that she’s officially part of the pack…

“I can see the plot in your eyes, Luc,” Rhett says, voice low with warning.

“What? I was just thinking it might be possible for me and Lydia to come to you now,” I reply defensively.

Rhett sighs, and his frown tugs at my heart. His ice-blue eyes scream that he wants to agree, but the set of his brow is worried.

“I’d love to see you, but I don’t think it would be a good idea. If something should happen, and Lydia goes into heat early, I’d rather her be with you and the others,” Rhett says heavily, rubbing his face.

I frown, not buying his excuse for a second. “What’s really going on? I would’ve thought you’d jump at the idea of seeing us again,” I ask, not leaving room for argument.

Rhett gives me a searching look, but I don’t back down. After a long moment, he relents with a huff.

“Jason says things aren’t exactly peaceful at the Anderson compound. Joe McLaughlin is raising holy hell, I guess, because Sam Sr. isn’t forcing any of his boys to testify in front of the grand jury,” Rhett explains tersely.

“Probably because Sam Sr. knows that anything they say will only work in your favor, or will be outright lies,” I snort derisively.

Rhett grunts in agreement. “But if Lydia comes here, I wouldn’t put it past that con artist to throw his weight around and have the DA subpoena her,” Rhett finishes, rubbing his face again.

I hadn’t considered that. I have no doubt that she’d handle herself just fine, but from what she’s told us about the fight in the bathroom, everything Rhett did was in self-defense. But a good lawyer can spin any story to serve their own purpose. As the only witness, Lydia’s testimony could condemn Rhett as much as it could redeem him.

“He could do that while she’s in Georgia, too,” I point out hesitantly.

Rhett shakes his head. “They’d have to have an address, and because Lydia never listed a forwarding address when she moved out of her old apartment, they don’t know where she is to have her served. Diane has been hounding Jason about our properties for a few days, so I think they want to, but he’s not going to budge.”

A little bubble of gratitude and affection forms in my chest for Lydia’s younger brother. Based on the few interactions we’ve had, I find that I like the man, and his protectiveness over Lydia only makes me like him more.

“Trust me, Lucas. It’s not that I don’t want you here with me, but it wouldn’t be fair,” Rhett says, genuine regret in his voice.

My heart falls a little as I snuggle closer to Rhett’s pillow. Patience has never been one of my strong suits, and this situation is pushing me to the end of my rope.

“Are you in my bed?” Rhett asks randomly.

I nod, tilting the camera so he can see the room, which makes him purr. As I bring the camera back to my face, I notice the shift in his expression. A little flame of hunger is dancing in the depths of his eyes, and he licks his lips.

“Have you been sleeping there? In my bed?” Rhett pushes playfully.

“Once or twice. But I try not to disturb it too often. Don’t want your scent to fade,” I say, blushing with honesty.

Rhett hums with understanding, turning onto his back and sitting up a little against the headboard.

“What do you do when you’re in my bed?” he asks in that casual, nonchalant manner of his that makes the hairs on my neck stand up. My body knows what that voice means.

“Crossword puzzles, mostly. Maybe the occasional fuck, but I like to come here to think,” I say, hoping he’ll miss the “slip up” and focus on my sass. But he’s too smart for that.

“Do you fuck yourself, or do you have a friend?” Rhett demands, an edge to his words now.

“Lydia and I were here the other day, and I made sure to fill her with so much cum that it leaked out of her cunt and stained the bed. And judging by the scents here, I think Mateo did the same,” I answer, the distance between us making me stupid.

---