Page 99 of The Grand Ruin: Lance & Scarlet-Part One

The door swings open moments later. “Lance,” the woman says sweetly, her eyes widening. “Oh. Is this another lawyer, or have you actually brought a girl home?”

It takes him a second, but Lance eventually looks at me. And it’s years of hurt, pain and maybe even need that I find in his eyes. As if he’s just a little boy not knowing how to take the woman before him.

I shrug, telling him I can be either.

I’m here for you.

Use me.

“Mum, this is Scarlet.”

“Scarlet.” She smiles. “What a lovely name. I’m Vanessa.”

I step forward when she steps to the side, inviting me into her home. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Sullivan. Thank you for having us to dinner.”

“I recognise you,” she says, her weary eyes locked on me when I look up. “Your face, it’s so familiar.”

I turn to Lance, unsure and then back toward her. “Do you know my brother Mason?”

“Mason.” One of her perfectly sculpted brows twitches. “You’re a Lowell.” She nods, staring at me. “Of course you are. You look just like your mother.”

I’ve heard that my whole life, and yet it still makes my heart sink whenever someone tells me. “Thank you,” I say, handing her my coat when she reaches for it.

She seems… nice.

“Chloe’s in the lounge. Nessa Anne is out with Ben but is due back any minute now.”

“She’s with Ben?” Lance asks, his mood shifting. “And where’s Mols?”

“She’s at a friend’s. And you know what they’re like.” She waves him off, disappearing down the hall. “On, off and on again.”

I follow Lance into the kitchen, where his mum starts to pull food from the fridge. It all looks fresh and unbranded, as if she took a trip to a butcher this morning.

“Can I help at all?” I ask, finding my manners.

“No, no. I have it covered.” She peers up at Lance as if expecting him to disagree with her.

I wait for Lance to do something, to say something, but he just watches his mother as if she’s a movie he bought a ticket for.

Waiting.

Waiting.

I wonder if maybe he only came here to have the documents signed, but I can’t help thinking he wouldn’t have invited me if he didn’t want me to meet his mum and sisters. And the look on his face, the hopeful sadness he’s doing nothing to hide, tells me he came here for more than just the documents.

There’s a scuffling noise at the door, and I frown, peeking around Lance’s tall frame and toward the double doors.

There’s a cream Labrador puppy scratching at the glass. My eyes widen, along with my smile. “Oh my goodness, is this your puppy? It’s adorable.”

Silence. Loud enough to steal my attention away from the pining animal outside and to them.

Vanessa drags her unapologetic gaze from her son to me. “It is. His name’s Bear. He’s five months old.” She swallows as if the words somehow fester there even after they’re out of her mouth. “But I wouldn’t let him in for a minute, not while the food’s out. He’ll just whine.”

Oh.

Lance pockets his hands, his jaw rigid beneath his short beard. Feeling awkward and not knowing what to say, afraid of saying the wrong thing, I focus my attention on the kitchen island in front of me, pretending I can’t hear the little scraping of claws.

After a couple of seconds pass, I rearrange the bag strap on my shoulder, chewing the inside of my lip as I side-eye the puppy.

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