Ella lost it.
“And there was this picture that went viral of him covered in adorable baby bunnies, and that’s how Bunny Boy was born.”
Dallas made a sound like he was dying.
“Can I see the picture?”
“No, you can’t see the—”
“Of course you can. I have it on my phone,” Lund offered, and I heard Ella make the universal cooing noise, where her voice went way up high, before I was passed Lund’s cell.
Dallas was on his back, lying in a sea of white bunnies with little cotton tails and pink noses, and the best part was that his head was lifted just enough so that it looked like the ears of the rabbit that had to have been sitting directly behind him, were sprouting from the top of his head. It was possibly the cutest thing I’d ever seen, and the complete horror on his face didn’t help even a little.
“So,” I said, trying to stifle my chuckle, “what did the drug dealer say when he realized he had bunnies instead of coats?”
“What did the intellectual juggernaut say, is your question?” Dallas groused at me.
“Yeah.”
“He said, ‘Oh shit!’”
Ella couldn’t breathe.
Dallas’s utter indignation was what did me in.
“Oh yeah, it’s fuckin’ hysterical,” he railed at me. “Do you have any idea how many calls I had to make to find places for a thousand bunnies?”
“Stop, I can’t,” I warned him.
“I was ready to sell them to restaurants and cosmetic testing facilities and––”
“I don’t believe you for a second,” Ella told him, leaning forward to put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Dallas Bauer, and you found homes for all your babies.”
“They were not my babies!” He was insistent.
“Pull over, Bunny Boy, I wanna give you a kiss,” Ella told him.
His growl did nothing to change her mind.
Back at his house, the second I walked through the garage door into the laundry room, I sighed deeply, the relief at being there, being home, safe, sending a flood of warmth through me that was overwhelming and froze me where I stood.
Dallas walked by me, his duffel in one hand, food in the other, and dropped his bag in the hall as he made the left from there, out into the living room. Lund took Ella’s bag from me when he passed. I’d carried it in, but he was showing her where the guest room was. He then doubled back and took the turn into the living room, still carrying his own bag because he would be on the couch.
Ella popped out of her room a few minutes later, asked me what I was doing, and then joined the guys in the living room. I heard them all gushing about the food, heard the clinking of plates, the clatter of a dropped piece of silverware, and then Dallas listing all the things he had in his refrigerator to drink.
I wanted to go out there. I wanted to take my bag to his room. I wanted to move any way at all, but I found myself rooted to the spot.
I was listening to the routine sounds of home and friends. Of family.
Dallas poked his head around the corner. “Hey,” he said gently, smiling at me. “What’s going on?”
I couldn’t say.
He cleared his throat. “You know, if anyone should be having a mental breakdown, don’t you think it should be Ella?”
I couldn’t answer, and honestly, the question seemed almost rhetorical.
“Are you gonna put your bag down?”
I hadn’t realized I was still holding it, but neither did I feel like that was a bad thing.
“Why Esca?” he asked me out of the blue, leaning in the archway, crossing his arms.
It took me a couple of tries to find my voice. “It was my grandmother’s maiden name.”
“Why did you change it?”
“Because they didn’t want me, and I was ready to make that break permanent.”
“It’s hard for me to imagine someone not wanting you.”
I exhaled deeply. “That’s because you like me.”
His brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed, like he was considering that. “I more than like you. You get that, don’t you?”
“Yes. And I feel the same.”
“Same page is good,” he informed me.
“Also, I’m changing mothers.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
I explained about the new birth certificate, and my brother running for Congress, and how annoyed Jared had been about the whole thing, which seemed odd.
“I don’t think that’s weird at all,” Dallas said, his voice low and husky. “He’s upset that who you are is being taken away. I get it.”
“But it’s not who I am,” I explained. “I was a Graves in name only; I was never part of any of their lives, my brothers included. We were separate from my parents and each other.”
“You’re breaking my heart with this.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s sad that even growing up with a family, you never really had one.”
I nodded. “I’m sure some rich families are different, but all of the ones I knew, and know of, are the same.”