Millionaire Daddy (Freeman Brothers 2)

She flashed me a grin. “It’s my job.” I reached into my pocket for money, but she waved me off. “It’s been taken care of.”

She glanced to the end of the bar, and I looked over to see one of Darren’s brothers talking to Lindsey, the owner of the bar I’d met the other night. He came toward me and extended his hand.

“I’m Nick Freeman. I hear you’re the new mechanic at the complex,” he said.

I shook his hand and nodded.

“I’m Kelly.”

He sat down on the stool beside me, and the two of us started chatting. I felt slightly tense the entire time, waiting for him to say something about Darren or for Darren to show up and take over my night. But Nick never said anything about him, and Darren never showed up. I tried to tell myself I wasn’t disappointed he wasn’t there and instead concentrated on getting to know Nick and Lindsey, who’d joined in our conversation. I found I really liked Lindsey, and Nick was fun to talk to as well. It was good to get to know another member of the family I’d be working so closely with, even if he didn’t actually work at the complex.

I didn’t stay long. After nursing two beers, I paid for my second one, said good night, and headed home. I got back before eleven and fell into bed.

11

Darren

For a good while Quentin was hosting dinners for the family at his house on Sundays. My oldest brother took to success naturally, and while he didn’t let having money change him, he used it well. One of the most obvious displays of that was his house. He fell in love with the house in the early years of building up the business handed over to him by our father and bought it as a sign of where he was going in life. Over time, he’d designed additions, incredible landscaping, and features that made it truly his. It was luxurious without being pretentious, right down to the massive firepit in the back that always had an abundance of beer stocked nearby.

That’s where the family gathered on Sunday nights until the weather turned cold and then we took our dinners indoors. It was good to have all four brothers and our parents together for that one night each week. We were very close, but intense careers and busy lives sometimes meant we didn’t get the chance to see each other as much as we wanted to, even when we worked in the same complex. Having those Sundays gave us something to look forward to and ensured we maintained the connection that kept us so tightly bonded.

But for the last few weeks, Sundays came and went without Quentin inviting us over. His life had been a bit busy recently to say the least with getting married and preparing for the baby. None of us blamed him for needing some time away from obligations, but we missed those nights. That’s why it was a great surprise early that week when he told us that he was getting the gatherings going again. I looked forward to it all week, and when it was finally time to go, it felt great to be back around the firepit.

Not that things were exactly the same as they always were. These gatherings were usually pretty raucous, and we often joked it was a good thing Quentin chose a house far enough away from any other people so his neighbors couldn’t be disrupted or upset because of all the noise we caused. Now that Merry and her pregnant belly were a part of the dinners, things were a little calmer. I enjoyed the energy and excitement of those more chaotic nights, but I also appreciated the quiet.,

It was particularly important to me that night. The next morning was Kelly’s first day, and I felt like I needed to get myself ready for all the changes to come. We had the ability to be friends. I was confident in that. After all, we were both adults, and there was no reason we shouldn’t be able to move past our one night together and not be weird about it. It wasn’t like either of us were dishonest with the other on that night. I could understand being uncomfortable if one of us had lied to the other about who we were or if she had disappeared without telling me. But that’s not how it happened. The note in my pocket wasn’t just my good-luck charm. It was my reminder of her and of that one night, when she had enough thought of me to bother pausing and leaving me a goodbye.

It meant even more now that I’d seen her again and found out about her annual toast to my birthday. Even though we’d only spent a short time together, I obviously had enough of a positive impact on her to want to remember me that way. There was no reason we couldn’t exist in the same environment without discomfort or would need to avoid each other.