by Heather Lyn
“And as soon as he turns eighteen, he’s out on his own with nowhere to go and nobody in his corner. That’s fucked up.”
“I know, Miller. It sucks.”
Rapping his knuckles on my desk, he walks away, heading toward the conference room.
Pulling the top drawer of my desk open, I grab my cell phone and fire off a text.
Jace: Hey, you free tonight?
Drew: Hey, bro. Yeah, wanna grab a drink?
Jace: Fuck yes. Walker’s?
Drew: See you at 8.
Plans made with my brother, I get back to work and try to push today from my mind.
Sometimes, my job really fucking blows.
§
“Sounds to me like you need to get laid,” Drew jokes, laughing when I flip him off from across the table before taking a sip of my beer.
“I’m good, but thanks.”
“Are you though?” he asks, fixing me with a more serious stare.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, when was the last time, Jace? It’s been almost three years since you dated Allie, and even then I think you guys just rubbed uglies.”
“Oh, shut up,” I groan, signaling to the waitress for another round. Drew just laughs, running a hand through his short dark hair. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You’re only three years younger than me, little brother. You’re thirty-one. When are you gonna meet someone and settle down?”
“When I have time between working fourteen-hour days and Dad on my case twenty-four seven. By the time I get home, eat dinner, and finally get a chance to relax, I’m asleep on the couch. I’m fucking beat, man. And not in the way I’d prefer.”
“I wish he’d back off you. You’re doing a damn good job keeping that shop going. He’s just having a hard time letting it go.”
Drew shakes his head, eyebrows knit tightly. “Nah, Dad’s just pissed that I refuse to dedicate my life to that place. Taking over his business isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I turned twenty-eight, but I did it. You’re the prized son, and I’m just the thirty-one-year-old gay son who doesn’t know how to do anything right the first time.”
I take a pull of my beer and then lean my forearms on the table. “C’mon, Drew. That’s not fair. Mom and Dad don’t care about your sexuality, and you fucking know it.”
Drew just scoffs. “Yeah, now they don’t care, but when will it be too much for Dad? Dude, he stopped by yesterday around noon. I’d finished up a job and had just sat down to eat lunch in the office, and he comes in unannounced, starts giving me a hard time for letting my head mechanic work in the shop alone. I’m like ‘Dad, he’s in charge when I’m not here. I’m pretty sure he’s capable. You hired him, remember?’ Just gave me a bunch of garbage about how when he was in charge, he never missed a day.”
“That’s just how he is. You should try to spend some time with him, you know, outside the shop. Tell him that you want to do this on your own, that you don’t need him coming over all the time. Show him that the place is yours now.”
Drew finishes his beer and leans back in the booth. He looks frustrated with me, and I’m really not trying to make anything worse for him, but he’s gotta stand up to our father.
“I’ll think about it. For now, I just want to hang out with my favorite brother and not think about work and all that shit, okay?”
“I’m your only brother, dumbass.”
“Watch it, Jace. You’re starting to not look like my favorite anymore.”
Shaking my head, I wad up my napkin and throw it at him. We both laugh, all conversation about work gone, and just enjoy the night.
Several hours later, I’m stepping in the front door of my house when a thought hits me. Sending a quick text to Eli, I wait to see if he’s still up.
Jace: Hey, man, what did you say was the name of that lady you talked to today?
Eli: The social worker? Stella something. Cole, I think.
Jace: Thanks. I want to check on those kids. Today didn’t sit right with me.
Eli: Same. I hope they get the help they need.
Doing a quick google search of her name, I find the office she works in and add the number to my phone, planning to make the phone call before I head into work tomorrow morning. Deciding on a quick shower, I rush through it and climb into bed, turning the television on as I go. Switching on a Braves game, I settle back for the final two innings.
§
Swinging out the front door, I’m on my way to work. I left a couple messages for the social worker this morning and nothing. I mean, I’m sure she’s busy, but I really wanted to get an update on the case, or at least find out what’s gonna happen with their living arrangements.
Unlocking my car, I climb behind the wheel of my Challenger SRT and start her up, the engine roaring to life. Taking off for the station, I drink my coffee from my travel mug and just take in the morning. It’s warm for April, and the sun is shining bright.
I’m pulling into the precinct when my cell phone starts ringing. Putting the vehicle into Park, I grab my phone from my front pocket and check the screen. It’s the social worker.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Jace Miller?” Her voice is music to my ears, soft and slightly husky.
“Yes, is this Stella?”
“It is. Listen, I appreciate you checking in on the boys, but really? Blowing my phone up at six in the morning?” She sounds pissed, and it just makes me laugh.
“Sorry, but I had a bug up my butt and couldn’t let it go.”
“What you put up your rear end is none of my business, but next time please wait until a more decent hour. Now, about the boys. If you have time, I could come down to the station and we can talk. I can’t tell you much, but if it would appease you, I’m happy to do it.”
My eyebrows raise at the sassiness behind her words, and it brings a smile to my face. “I won’t put you out like that. I can come to you, or you can just tell me over the phone. That way neither of us have to go anywhere.”
“Whatever works. I’m getting ready to head into the office. You mind if I call you back?”
“I look forward to it.”
Ending the call, I head into the precinct. I’m just stepping into the bullpen when I see Eli coming for me.
“Did you ever talk to her?” he asks, and I laugh, dropping my bag on my desk.
“Funny story,” I say, then proceed to fill him in on what just happened.
Today is gonna be a good one. I can just tell.
CHAPTER TWO
STELLA
Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I lean my hip against my kitchen counter and let out a deep sigh. I didn’t have to be in the office until nine, so I’d hoped to sleep until at least seven or so. But no, some Nashville cop named Jace Miller made sure I was up at the crack of dawn.
Tossing my long brown hair over my shoulder, I take my coffee with me into the bedroom so I can get dressed. Because I’ll be attending a court case around noon, I decide on a black pencil skirt and a hunter green blouse. Pairing it with my favorite black heels, I stop by the bathroom to throw on some makeup. Tossing a few waves into my hair, I’m good to go. Grabbing some extra coffee for the road, I head out of my apartment and down to the parking lot where my trusty Honda is parked.
After the short drive to my office, I walk inside, enjoying the slight breeze blowing. I’m just setting my purse and briefcase down when my cell phone starts ringing. Half expecting it to be that cop again, I’m surprised to find my older brother calling me.
“Mason, hey. A little early for you to be calling, isn’t it?”
“Oh, so funny, Stella. You kill me. Nah, I’m on my way to the gym, but Jules wanted me to ask if you wanted to come by for dinner tonight?”
Shouldering my phone, I smile, flipping the locks on my briefcase.
“You don’t need to use my ten-year-old niece as bait to get me to dinner. I’m there, Mase. What were you planning to order?”
His loud laugh
booms out of the phone. This will always be the running joke. My brother could burn ice cream, and he’s forever ordering out for dinner.
“I was thinking the new Chinese place in town.”
“How about I come over after work? I’ll text you a list of groceries, and as long as you have a glass of wine waiting for me, I’ll cook us all dinner.”
“You’re the best.”
“Love you, Mase. Give my best girl a kiss, and I’ll talk to you in a bit.”
Ending the call, I rifle through my folders, looking for the case files I need for today. While doing that, I decide to make chicken alfredo and a garden salad for dinner, so I send everything I’ll need in a text to my brother. Leaning back in my desk chair, I find myself thinking back to when I graduated college, my brother there with an infant Jules in his arms.
“I told you that you were gonna make something of yourself, Stella. I wish Mom and Dad were here to see it, but they’d be so proud of you.”
Tears burn my eyes as I stand on tiptoes to wrap my arms around Mason’s neck, laughing when my baby niece reaches out to yank on a lock of my hair.
“They’d be proud of you too, Mase. I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you.”
“Love you, punk. Now let’s go celebrate. I got a sitter for Jules tonight so I can take my baby sister out to dinner.”
Beaming at him, I give him a kiss on the cheek and bend down to pick up my diploma. I link my arm with his, and we stroll from the lawn where graduation was held, heading toward the procession of graduates and their family. Mason is my only family, but on a day like today, I couldn’t feel more loved or surrounded.
Mason and I are five years apart. At thirty-seven, he resembles our dad so much that it almost hurts to look at him sometimes, but he’s every bit my hero. He was nineteen when our parents were killed in the house fire that burned down our childhood home. It’s been almost twenty years, and yet I still remember him picking me up from my friend’s sleepover, his eyes red and sad.
I wasn’t surprised to see him, as he was often the one picking me up and taking me places. He was my best friend—still is. He drove me to his dorm room, the same college I would eventually graduate from, so he could break the news. I didn’t believe him at first, until finally he had to yell at me to knock it off. We both broke down together, and from then on, it was just the two of us. He dropped out of college to work full time. I got a part-time job when I was fifteen to help, but after a month he made me quit and focus on school.
Months after the fire, we ended up getting our parents’ life insurance payouts, and Mason filed a lawsuit against the electricians who had worked on our house. The company Dad had hired to rewire the basement had decided to cut some corners, resulting in the fire. Mason put all the money in a fund for my college education, and with the remaining he bought us a small house on a huge plot of land. We spent the next ten years fixing it up and learning how to survive without our parents. Both Mom and Dad were the only children in their families, with no grandparents around. We were all alone, but Mason made sure we were okay.
Because I was still a minor and Mase was barely an adult, they wanted to put me into foster care, but he worked his ass off proving he could take care of me. To this day, I’ve never been able to wrap my mind around everything he’s done for me. He taught me to drive a car, and he pretended not to be angry when I got busted having sex with my college-age boyfriend. He just made sure to tell me he loved me, then drove me to the doctor to get put on birth control.
It’s been Mason and Stella against the world for eighteen years.
And I love him more than anything.
I decided to become a social worker because I know that not every kid out there has the parents we did or a Mason in their corner. I wanted to fight for the kids who didn’t have anyone. It’s my job to take care of them, and I love every part of it.
Finding the files that I need, I pull them out so I can go over everything before I’m due at the courthouse. I’m halfway through them when I realize I never called Jace Miller back.
Scrolling through my call logs, I find his number and select it, pressing my phone to my ear. It rings several times before going to voicemail. I wait for the beep and then leave him a short message, letting him know that I won’t be available until around five this evening. Then I get back to work and focus on the task at hand.
§
Arriving at Mason’s house, I don’t bother knocking and head straight inside. The television has some movie playing, and I hear laughter from the kitchen.
“Anyone home?” I call out, kicking my heels off at the door.
“Auntie Stella!” Jules screeches, and in a flurry of brown hair and long legs, I’m grabbed in the tightest hug ever. Laughing, I hug her back just as tight and hold her out in front of me.
“Let me look at my favorite girl. I swear, you’ve grown a foot since I last saw you!”
“I saw you last week, Auntie.”
Laughing, I drape my arm over her shoulder and walk with her into the kitchen. Mason is standing at the island, leaning back against it with his hands in his pockets. Letting go of Jules, I stride over to him and find myself engulfed in a bear hug.
“You look beautiful, Stell.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I quip, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“How was work?” he asks, turning around to grab the bottle of wine he already opened and pouring me a glass. I accept it gratefully and take a sip.
“It was good. They ended up asking me to testify in a child abuse and custody case, so it was tough. But the little boy’s aunt agreed to take him home with her, so it was a win in the end. How about you guys? How was the showing today?”
Mason is a real estate agent, and he’s become one of the top-selling agents in our area. He’s done so well for himself, and he is the best dad ever to Jules. He was only with Jules’s mom for a couple months after she was born, but they split amicably. They share custody, and while I don’t see her very often, she’s nice enough when I do.
“Went good. The buyers offered less than what the seller wanted at first, but with some bargaining, we got the sale finalized.”
“Congrats, Mase. Proud of you.”
He just smiles at me as he takes a pull from his bottle of beer.
Stepping around him, I head for the shopping bags on the counter and pull everything out. I’m just reaching for a kitchen knife when my cell starts chirping from my bag. Excusing myself for a second, I grab it and find it’s Jace Miller calling me. Crap. Looking at my watch, I see it’s five thirty. I completely forgot about him.
“Hello?”
“Stella, hey. Jace Miller here. I got your message this morning, but I ended up slammed with calls all day, and you said after five was good.”
“Yes, of course. Sorry, I was just about to start dinner and completely forgot that we hadn’t talked yet.”
“Oh, I can call you later if that’s better.”
“No, it’s okay. We can talk now.” Plopping down on the couch, I cross my legs and lean on the arm. “So, I know you were interested in Peter and Jacob’s case. I can’t tell you much, but what I can tell you is they are both getting the help they need. Both boys are good at heart, but growing up in the system can be hard on children. They don’t know what a real home is or a family, and the group homes sometimes have gangs of kids that beat up on the smaller, more sensitive ones. I’m grateful to you and your partner for getting them as quickly as you did.”
“That’s good to hear. Once my partner and I realized how young they were, I couldn’t stop thinking about how they were doing. Eli, my partner, was also concerned when we found out. The younger one seemed scared out of his mind when Eli brought him around to the squad car.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not as uncommon as you’d think. A lot of these kids who grow up in the system act out either for attention or to get a new home. That’s the downfall to the group homes. There are so many who don’t ge
t the attention and love they need. Both boys have been in the system since they were very young. This is the only life they know.”
He lets out a deep sigh, and I sympathize with how he’s feeling. “Well, that doesn’t exactly make me feel better, but I’m glad to hear the boys are going to be okay. Thank you, Stella. I really appreciate you talking to me about it. I know it’s probably strange and annoying of me.”
“Oh no, you haven’t bothered me at all. I mean, I would have enjoyed actually sleeping in this morning, but no worries.”
Jace laughs, and it causes me to smile. What the hell?
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I’m an early riser, and when I got back from my morning run, it was on my brain. I’m really sorry, seriously.”
“No problem, Jace. I’m gonna get back to dinner, but you take care.”
“You too, Stella Cole.”
Ending the call, I tuck my phone back into my purse and stand to find Mason in the doorway, a huge shit-eating grin on his face.
“What?” I ask, pushing past him into the kitchen.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“It’s all over your face, Mason. Just spit it out.”
“Who is Jace?”
“No idea. He was the arresting officer in a case I was assigned.”
“Okay, Stell. Whatever you say.”
I smack him on the back of the head and busy myself with making us all dinner. But I don’t miss his snide looks all night, and I can’t help wondering why he’s such a pain in my ass.
Older brothers, am I right?
CHAPTER THREE
JACE
“I can’t believe how big he’s already getting,” I say. Sitting in Garret’s living room across from him and Brody, I’m rocking Brody’s one-month-old son, Paxton.
“Yeah, you’re telling me, man. I think I’m in denial. And Linds wants another already.” Brody shakes his head, then takes a sip of his beer.
Looking into Paxton’s bright blue eyes, I laugh when he coos, a sleepy smile breaking out over his small face.
