Crave (The Gibson Boys 3)

Sienna’s smile lights up the room. “I got the contract a while ago, but with Nana being sick and then I had the flu …” She fires a look at Lance. “I know I got it from you.”

“How’d you get it from me?” he asks.

“You came over that day to get the soup I made for Mariah and left your germs.”

“That soup was excellent, by the way,” Mariah tosses in.

“You made soup, and I didn’t get any?” Peck asks. “Sienna. I’m hurt.”

Walker sighs. “She’s my girlfriend. Not yours. How many goddamn times do I have to tell you that?”

Sienna laughs, resting her head on Walker’s shoulder. “I’ll make you some tomorrow, Peck.”

“Thanks.” He smiles smugly at Walker. “And since everyone is listening to me for a change, I have some news of my own.”

“They aren’t going to like it,” I tell him.

He and I exchange a look at the news he shared with me last night. I want to be excited for him. I want to encourage him and be happy for him, but I’m not. And they won’t be either.

“I don’t care if they like it or not,” he tells me

“Just prepare yourself,” I say.

“Will someone tell the rest of us?” Machlan asks. “And I don’t like you two having secrets.”

“Watch him,” Walker says, taking a bite of beans. “He’ll try to steal your woman.”

Peck glares at Walker and then at Machlan.

He fills his fork full of scalloped potatoes and takes a bite. He winces as he swallows the burnt potatoes but doesn’t say a word about it. He just washes it down with a drink of iced tea.

“Any day now, asshole,” Machlan says, getting a look from Nana.

“I have a date.” Peck sits up, shoulders back, and grins.

“Navie?” Machlan asks.

“Nope. Molly.”

“What the fuck?” Machlan asks.

“Machlan Daniel. Enough,” Nana says.

“I told you,” I tell Peck.

“Oh, wait till you meet her,” Lance tells Nana. “You’ll be ‘What the fuck-ing’ along with the rest of us.”

Peck’s face falls. “Guys, be nice. I don’t give you hell.”

“Yes, you do,” they say in unison, making everyone, even Nana, laugh.

“I’m sure she’s a nice girl if Peck likes her,” Nana offers.

“That’s one way to put it,” Walker mumbles. “She’s nice to everyone, if you catch my drift.”

Peck shrugs and goes back to his meal. “Well, I’m looking forward to it. Things are starting to come around.”

The table breaks out into chatter again, everyone sparring back and forth in typical Gibson fashion. Machlan takes my hand again and holds it while we eat.

I take my time, eating slowly and taking in the love and family around me. I’ve wanted this my entire life. For a while, I didn’t think I’d ever have it.

But as I sit at Nana’s table, listening to Peck give Walker crap about a tractor at Crank and watching Machlan dote on his grandmother, I realize something: things like this, like what’s sitting around this table, don’t happen overnight. You can’t force them to happen. You can’t make them not happen. You just have to water them with love and give them room to breathe and enough support to anchor the roots into the foundation of something good.

If Machlan and I had tried to stay together years ago, our roots weren’t planted yet. They would’ve given in to the weight of the world and we wouldn’t fallen on our faces.

All those years of not being together weren’t in vain. They weren’t a waste, like Machlan thinks. They were a way to build us up to this point so we can enjoy it now.

I look at the little tattoo on my wrist. Machlan catches me looking at it and lifts my arm to his lips. He presses a kiss where the wings meet, letting his lips linger on my skin for a long moment.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He smiles my favorite smile. The one that’s just for me. “I love you too.”

The End