Must Love Logs (Must Love Series Book 4)

by Xavier Neal

  “Appreciate you going to see him at all,” Hollis quickly announces. “That’s more than the woman he had the nerve to call his girlfriend did.”

  My sneer is instant. “None of us cared for her anyway.”

  “Is that because she said, ‘Sienna’s cherry pie taste like cherry crap’?” Tri thoughtlessly questions.

  “No one talks shit about my wife’s cherry pie.” I point a stern finger. “No. One.”

  Her hands swiftly surrender. “I wasn’t! I was just repeating-”

  “Don’t even repeat that blasphemy.”

  Hollis hides his chuckles behind tightly pressed lips. “Dad’s home now but not quite ready for visitors.”

  I nod my understanding.

  “However,” Tri’s short, curvy frame wiggles, “I was thinking you could be an exception.”

  My eyebrows soar to the sky.

  “Hollis feels George’s house could use some…changes. And I figured since you’re unemployed-”

  “Stay-at-home father.”

  “Sorry! Since you’re now a stay-at-home father you might be able to help him out?”

  When I dart my attention to Hollis, he explains, “Dad refuses to stay in one of those senior center places where they’re equipped to handle his rehabilitation process. Says if he’s gonna die he wants to die in the comfort of his own home.”

  “Is he…dying?” I cautiously ask. “I thought he just fell and broke something in his foot.”

  “He did,” Hollis sighs, shoving his hands into his workout pants pockets, “but he’s also been diagnosed with Parkinson’s, and they’re worried about his high blood pressure putting him at risk for a stroke or heart attack.”

  A sympathetic expression cloaks my face.

  Fuck, I can’t imagine what he’s going through. My parents have been blessed to have no health issues that we’re aware of. Not sure if I heard news about them like this that I would be so…calm. Fuck that. I don’t think any of us would be holding it together this well. Not even Big Foot.

  “While I would prefer some major upgrades since it’s an old ass house, I know my father won’t let that fly.”

  It is an older house. We do live in a more established neighborhood. We managed to buy our house at a great price not far from great schools. Making the major changes I’ve made wasn’t difficult so much as timely. Before I quit my job, I didn’t exactly have an abundance of it, but I did what was necessary for my family. Worked after work. Got up early and put in some hard time. I turned what was an, obviously, under cared-for house into our dream home. Unlike most of the others I’ve seen the inside of, ours has more of a rustic style décor as well as a heavy wooden theme. Easiest combination of both our preferences.

  “So, I just want the house to be a little more handicap-able to make his life easier.”

  “You got some shit in mind?”

  “Couple ideas, but I’m open to more.”

  “Dad!” Kenny shouts from the doorway, demanding my attention his direction. “I can’t open the box!”

  “Give me a minute, bud.”

  He starts to frown until he sees Tri. At that, he wildly waves. “Hi, Tri!”

  “Hey, handsome!”

  His cheeks rosy prior to him disappearing back into the house.

  Hitting her with a jovial look, I chuckle, “Think my boy has a crush on you.”

  “Can you blame him?” She teases in return.

  “No,” Hollis faintly mumbles.

  Rather than dwell on his comment regarding the woman beside him, I suggest, “Why don’t you and Tri come by after dinner? We can discuss details, and I can give you what kinda purchase cost estimates you’ll be looking at.”

  “Sure,” he quickly agrees. “What’s the consultation fee, and do you prefer a check or-”

  “It’s free.” My large hand gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “So’s any work I put into that house.”

  “But-”

  “You just worry about takin’ care of your father. Family’s what matters most.”

  “Dad!” Kyle whines from the doorway.

  “Speaking of…” I snatch the remaining grocery sacks. “I-”

  “Dad!”

  “-gotta get inside. The boys go down for bed around eight, so swing by after that.”

  “Dad!” Kyle screeches louder.

  “Holy fuck, small fry, hold your horses.”

  “Swear jar…”

  Hollis and Tri laugh behind me while I simply shake my head.

  A little renovation project will be a great way to balance out the monotony of day-to-day chores.

  Man, it’s going to be nice to finally work with my hands again.

  Plus, I look forward to having something more substantial to add to the work-related conversations Sienna and I have.

  That is, assuming she ever gets off in time to join us for dinner again.

  Chapter 5

  Langston playfully asks at a low volume. “Think any of these men are single?”

  “Yes.”

  “Think any of these men are single and ready to mingle?”

  “Yes.”

  “Think any of these men are single and ready to mingle with me under the mistletoe?”

  The last question successfully receives a smirk.

  Cutting desserts and replenishing the supply of pie on the table isn’t exciting, nor is it entertaining, but thankfully, my partner in culinary crime is both of those things. He’s managed to turn what I was anticipating to be a mind-numbing, after hours night of misery into a mildly humorous adventure in people watching.

  Just as the music switches from one Christmas song to another, I state, “Let’s ask my brother-in-law. Afterall, this is his turf.”

  Our attention turns to Oliver who has his back to us.

  Ah.

  The middle Shaw child.

  The one who often swears he was born into the wrong family.

  If you ask me, he was definitely born into the right one. Aside from his similar stature to the majority of the Shaw men, he was born to two people who would never force him to be someone he wasn’t. They’d never require him to bend to the man they wanted rather than the one he was destined to be. Oliver, unlike his brothers, hates getting dirty, being outside, and beer. The latter is just plain blasphemy. He enjoys ties, computers, and stuffy parties like the one he’s currently pouting at. Despite his inability to acknowledge it most of the time, he’s very fortunate to have brothers and parents who don’t nag at him for not being who they determined he should be. My entire family does it to me every opportunity they get. It’s fucking awful. And another reason we take our parenting advice from Mama and Pop instead of my folks.

  “Hey, Oliver!”

  His head glances over his shoulder, blue eyes stormy as ever.

  “Don’t piss off the giant,” Langston grumbles under his breath.

  “Eh.” I wave him over. “He’s a gentle giant.”

  “Same way the Grizzly bear is nothing more than a large teddy bear…”

  “Did you know Teddy bears were named after Teddy Roosevelt?”

  “Why would I know that?” Langston’s face scrunches. “Hell, why do you know that?”

  “Learned it durin’ a hunting trip, believe it or not,” I casually inform at the same time my brother-in-law arrives at the table. “You’d be surprised what weird shit my husband knows.”

  “We always are,” Oliver inserts into the conversation.

  My attention darts to him. “You work here.”

  Annoyance flashes in his glare.

  “Know any single men?”

  His eyebrows dart down disapprovingly.

  “For Langston.” I motion the appropriate direction. “He could use a little…holiday cheer.”

  The scowl on Oliver’s face deepens.

  “Nope,” my coworker quickly abandons the conversation. “Forget I said anything. I’ll just roast my nuts over an open fire instead.”

  L redirects himself
to the opposite side of the table while I pin Oliver in place with a displeased glare. “What’s with the Scrooge routine? London not touching your candy cane enough?”

  He immediately sneers. “Ugh. You sound like Eddie.”

  “Why do you think he loves me so much? It’s like being married to his own reflection.”

  The retort receives a small, crooked smile.

  “What’s with the candy cane up your ass?”

  “Could you not use holiday metaphors?”

  “I don’t think so, Grinch.” When he cringes again, I snicker, “That’s half the fun of the season.”

  Oliver shakes his head.

  “Wanna know what the other half is?” I lean forward and add in a low tone, “Role playing…”

  Another look of disgust appears in his expression.

  “Eddie loves it when I put on-”

  “For the love of Neptune, please do not finish that sentence.” More chuckles escape me prior to him grumping, “Damn it. Now, I sound like my partner.”

  This time a sweet smile slips onto my face. “I like that you two use that term.”

  I also like that she cracked open his hard shell and showed us what we all already knew was inside. London Hall is almost the complete opposite of him. They have so little in common it would make an onlooker quite skeptical as to how they’d ever work out in a million years. That’s the funny thing about love. It doesn’t matter how different you may be from the other person or how crazy it may seem to try with them. You do it anyway.

  “Where is London? Why’s she not at this thing wearin’ something neon-colored or shoes that somehow play Carol of the Bells?”

  “Are you mocking my woman?”

  “No.”

  His face frowns in disbelief.

  “Seriously,” I promptly push. “What’s with the shitty mood? It’s a goddamn Christmas party, not a Reindeer’s funeral.”

  He gives me a short shrug.

  “It’s obvious you’re pissy that she’s not here-”

  “Then why are you asking?”

  “To engage in an actual conversation. That thing you refuse to do with your coworkers who, by the way, look like they’re havin’ a blast.” My head tilts to where the crowd of inebriated McCormick and McCordick employees are sloppily gyrating around. “Is that why you’re extra pissy? Because they’re havin’ the time of their lives while you’re sulking?”

  “I’m not sulking.”

  “You’re so soggy you’re makin’ the Rice Krispy Treats soften jus’ standin’ this close to them.”

  He folds his arms over his maroon dress shirt.

  “Where’s London?”

  “In London,” Oliver finally huffs.

  “For…work?”

  “Apparently, her Christmas party is more important than mine.”

  “It’s in London,” I reiterate with attitude. “Yeah, asshole. Her party is definitely more important.”

  Not taking his side seems to make him seethe more.

  “Why didn’t you go with her? Did she not invite you?”

  “She did,” his tone warms for the first time all night. “It was actually…really amazing that she did…”

  “And you didn’t go because…?”

  “First year at a new company.” The dreariness returns. “Thought it would look…better to my bosses that I was here…being a ‘team player’. London offered to come to mine, but I knew her boss’s brain would implode if she wasn’t there, especially since her best friend, Azura, wouldn’t be attending.”

  “Thoughtful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But, you know I’m not so sure that pouting all night at a party is really better than you not bein’ here.”

  His lips cock to one side.

  “Ask me to dance,” I casually suggest as I remove my catering coat. “It’ll make you feel better.”

  “It won’t.”

  “It will.”

  “It won’t.” He tilts his head to the side. “Don’t love to dance like my brothers do.”

  “Stop bein’ a dick, and just ask me.”

  Caving like he always does when I get a more aggressive timbre, Oliver lets out a heavy sigh. “Sienna, do you wanna dance?”

  “Ohmygod I’d love to!”

  The fake excitement causes him to shake his head a second time.

  “L, I’ll be back shortly. There’s a Christmas Tree that needs a rockin’.”

  He simply snickers, nods his head at the pun, and returns to dusting away crumbs from the table.

  Once we’re near the people poorly flailing their bodies, I immediately join them. My shoulders and hips instantly sync to the music while my brother-in-law phones his movements in, much like his mental state. Oliver barely steps side to side. I’m not even sure his dress shoes really leave the ground.

  I give his firm chest a hard poke and taunt, “Is this really all you’ve got?”

  His crystal gaze hardens.

  “Should I call London and tell her that her partner is pumping negative energy into the world instead of positive? You know she hates that.”

  Oliver’s face threatens to smile.

  Woman is a straight up hippie. A sports loving, adrenaline seeking, pray to the Sun goddess type of hippie. And it’s not just for show. She truly believes all the strange shit she says, which only makes me adore her more. I have so much respect for a person who can be who they are despite what the world thinks. Eddie was the one who personally introduced me to that lifestyle. It’s a great way to live.

  “Now, move those hips.” I give a dramatic demonstration.

  He chuckles yet follows suit.

  “Put a little more ass into it. Like you want Mrs. Claus to make it rain on you.”

  Actual laughter is freely leaked.

  “There ya go,” my encouragement is proceeded by my arms swaying in the air. “Don’t forget to add arms.” I whip my head back and forth in an exaggerated motion. “Like you’re checkin’ if you put on deodorant.”

  Oliver’s mirth-filled voice questions, “Does that actually happen? Do you forget to put it on?”

  “Two kids running around makes you forget all sorts of shit.”

  Not lately, though.

  Lately, it’s been my long-ass work hours.

  I’ve actually barely seen the boys, including Eddie. Most nights, I’m getting home when they’re all already asleep, and most mornings, I make it back from my morning run just in time to start breakfast with them but have to be in the shower before they finish. Eddie puts on a good game face for them. Supports me having a new job and promises them that it doesn’t mean I love them less even if I’m momentarily not around as much. It’s obvious that it’s frustrating for him to go at so many things alone, but he swears he understands. Swears he can make the adjustment. Swears this is what he wants for us if it’s what I want.

  And it is…

  I think.

  I mean…most days.

  I do miss seeing my kids…Miss Kyle begging for us to play outside in the backyard and Kenny being more fascinated with bugs than balls. Miss reading them books at bedtime and promising to take them to get new ones after school. I also miss the fuck out of Eddie. While he does his best to swing by the shop to say hi, something he not so casually reminds me I never did for him, we’re usually too busy for more than a hello-goodbye moment, which is a total waste of gas. He once had roses delivered to me at the office as an attempt to brighten up a long week, and another time, he had pizza delivered for everyone at the shop when he found we were working well into the night. He’s trying hard to put in the effort to prove to me that he understands work is important, but that he also misses me.

  That he’s thinking about me.

  It’s heartwarming, yet heartbreaking.

  Even when the office or sites were insane, he found twenty or thirty minutes to devote to me via video chat or a long phone call.

  I hate that I can’t give him the same.

  I also h
ate hearing the less than subtle ways he reminds me that I can’t.