Chapter 11

eleven

DYLAN

I parked my truck in my parents’ driveway. I had no idea what Steve had planned for our brother’s bachelor party, but I hoped it wasn’t too wild. Luke was already worried about the wedding. Taking him to a noisy, over-the-top party would make everything worse.

Leaves crunched under my boots as I walked across the front yard. My parents’ two-story house wasn’t as large or as grand as Alex’s, but just looking at it made me happy.

When my parents moved into town, it was a big deal, especially for Dad. Ranching was his life. He lived and breathed the open spaces, the sound and smell of the cattle, and the natural rhythm to life. He’d never owned a property in town and it took a few months for him to feel as though he belonged. But, looking back, it was the best thing my parents could have done.

I opened the front door. “Anyone home?” I yelled into the entryway.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Mom yelled back.

Leaving my jacket on a hook beside beside everyone else’s, I walked through the house .

“You made it.” Mom wrapped me in a hug.

“The roads were better than I thought.” I smiled at my parents. “What are you doing?” Great-grandma’s silver cutlery was spread across the table.

Dad placed a freshly polished knife on the table. “Your mom has invited half her family to stay with us after the wedding. We’re getting the silver ready for inspection.”

Mom swatted Dad’s arm with the polishing cloth. “I only invited my sisters.”

“And their families,” he mumbled.

I laughed. “Aunt Rosa and Aunt Maria aren’t that bad.”

“They’re coming a long way for the wedding,” Mom told Dad. “It would be a shame not to make the most of their visit.”

Dad looked over the rim of his glasses. “They live in San Francisco and, if I’m not mistaken, they were here four months ago.”

Mom’s shoulders lifted in a very Italian shrug. “Family is family. You should be thankful my brothers decided to stay in a hotel.”

Dad picked up a fork and kept polishing. “I’ll be forever grateful.”

I grinned at my parents. The Italian side of our family was loud, boisterous, and lots of fun. And, contrary to what Dad said, he enjoyed their company—especially when they took over the kitchen.

Mom left her cloth on the table and studied me. “You’re getting skinny. Are you eating enough?”

“I’m eating plenty.”

She didn’t look like she believed me. “I have toasted ravioli in the oven. A little salsa and salad and you have a meal fit for a king.”

If I didn’t find my brothers soon, I’d end up spending the rest of the night eating. “I really am okay. The client I’m working with bought me lunch.”

“Lunch was hours ago. You need food to give you energy. Sit with your father while I bring you a little something.”

Dad pulled out the chair beside him. “Let your mom spoil you. You’ve been away a lot over the last few weeks.”

I sank into the chair. I didn’t tell my family and friends about the work I did. Most of it was confidential. If anyone discovered the names of the clients I worked with, Bryant Security’s reputation would be in shreds.

“Can you tell me what you’ve been doing?” Dad asked.

I shook my head.

“What about the client who bought you lunch? Do they have a name?”

“They do, but I can’t tell you who he is.”

Mom turned around. “You’re working with a man? Is he nice?”

I leaned my elbows on the table. If I didn’t change the subject, Mom would keep asking questions. “He’s a good person. Are Steve and Luke here?”

“They’re upstairs getting ready. Luke’s friends are arriving in an hour.” Mom opened the oven door. “A good man is worth one hundred of those flashy types. Your father is a good man. That’s why I married him.”

Dad winked at me. “I thought it was because I was handsome.”

“That, too,” Mom said. “Your good man wouldn’t happen to be single and Italian, would he?”

If I wasn’t so tired, I would have smiled. But after working until after midnight most nights this week, I was exhausted. “I’m not marrying him, Mom.”

“It doesn’t hurt to keep your options open. ”

Dad patted my hand. “Your mom means well.”

“I know,” I whispered, glancing at my watch. “I really need to see Luke and Steve.”

“Your ravioli will be here when you come downstairs,” Mom said as I left the kitchen. “And tell your brothers they’ll need to eat something before they leave, too.”

“I’ll tell them.”

“I love you.”

Mom’s voice followed me into the hallway. After spending so much time away from my family, it was good to hear those words. Because regardless of how much money you earned or where you came from, everyone should know they’re loved.