Craft (The Gibson Boys 2)

“Hey, Chrissy,” I say, setting down my fork. “Go take care of your baby girl.”

The thought of that precious baby’s face makes me soften.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “I, um …”

“I’m sure. Thank you for calling me and for all the things you said.”

“I meant them, Mariah.”

I look at my reflection in the window over the sink. My little birthmark looks a little darker, a little more noticeable for some reason.

“I know you did. Just give me some time to think about things.”

“Absolutely. Thank you for taking my call.”

“Sure.”

“Goodbye, Mariah.”

Ending the call, food forgotten, I head into the living room and lay on the couch. The entire conversation, line-for-line rolls back through my mind as I dissect everything we both said.

I’m scared to believe her. I’m scared not to too.

Lance

“Hand me another box of nails,” Peck shouts from overhead.

Machlan grabs the last box on the tailgate of his truck and climbs the two bottom rungs and hands them to Peck. There’s a little patch of roofing on Nana’s shed that she uses to store her Christmas decorations and yard ornaments that she needed fixed. My skill set usually has me coming by to check her taxes or deal with insurance, but when Machlan and Peck said they were coming over, I figured it was better than sitting around the house ruminating.

Cross flies down the driveway in his Jeep, kicking gravel all over the yard. We laugh, knowing Nana will have his ass when she sees him again.

“Typical,” Machlan shouts. “Show up when the work is about done.”

“I’ve been on the phone.”

Machlan holds the ladder steady as Peck’s boot hits the top rung. “I bet.”

“Hadley called.” Cross gives Machlan a ‘you asked for it’ kind of look.

“How is she?” I ask.

Machlan glares my way, disappearing to the other side of the shed so he doesn’t have to hear. A part of me feels bad for asking knowing how hard it is for my brother to hear anything about her at all. Even though none of us are one-hundred-percent sure what actually transpired between them, it was enough to keep Machlan from settling down again.

“She’s good,” Cross says. “Had a question about the guy she’s been seeing for a while. Can’t say I like him much, but it seems like he’s around for the long haul.”

Peck’s hammer taps against the roof before he whips around and sits on his behind. “Here I am, doin’ all the work, and you guys will go inside and tell Nana what a great job you did. Such bullshit.”

“Keep it up and that ladder just might give out on ya on the way down,” Machlan says, coming back into view.

Peck grins, resting his arms on his knees. “So, Lance. With all this talk about Hadley, what’s going on with Mariah?”

“I wish I knew,” I say, feeling my stomach bottom out.

“She dump you already?” Machlan asks with a smirk.

“No, asshole, she didn’t.” Leaning back against Cross’ Jeep, I sigh. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Women always are,” Cross notes.

“She’s not hard to explain. The situation is.”

Cross looks at me funny. “If she’s not hard to explain, marry her. Now. You’ve found a one in a million.”

“No shit,” Machlan adds.

I shove off the hood and start picking up stray nails. There’s no way to tell them Mariah doesn’t have a damn thing about her that makes her undesirable or off-limits or makes me not want to see her again. They won’t understand.

“You’re scared shitless, aren’t you?” Cross cracks.

Peck just watches me from his perch, a hammer dangling from his hand. He raises a brow but chooses to remain silent.

“You’re not getting any younger, you know,” Machlan notes.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for pointing that out.”

He shrugs.

“Believe it or not,” I say, dumping the nails in a discarded box, “this really has nothing to do with her.”

“Oh, so this is one of those ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ kind of things?” Cross jokes. “You better get something better than that before you go fucking up all kinds of shit.”

“Kind of.”

“You’re admitting you have flaws?” Machlan asks. “I didn’t think we’d see the day.”

“I’ve never said I didn’t have flaws. I just said I didn’t have as many as you fuckers.”

They all laugh, Machlan holding the ladder as Peck climbs to the ground. “Tell you what,” my youngest brother says. “I have a feeling there’s a lot more to this conversation than you’re letting on. But I’m not a pushy guy. When you’re ready to get slammed and pour your heart out, I’ll have an Old Fashioned ready for you at Crave.”

“Gee, thanks.”

We work together to clean up the mess. Nana calls from the house, ordering us inside for sandwiches before we leave.

“Hey,” I say, pulling my thoughts away from Mariah. “Do any of you need someone to do some odd jobs or have an apartment for rent?”