Piece by Piece (Riggins Brothers 2)

“Thank you for having me. I hope I’m not imposing,” I say, remembering the manners that I learned on my own. Just something else dear old mom didn’t offer me.

“Of course not,” Lena assures me. “There is more than enough room at the table, and I always make way too much food. Something I got used to raising five teenage boys.”

“Mom made sure to have a table big enough for all of us to have a guest,” Marshall explains. “We just thought Owen would be the last of us to make that happen.” He smirks.

“Fuck off,” Owen grumbles good-naturedly while Lena smacks his arm.

“Language in my kitchen, Owen Riggins.”

“Sorry, Momma,” he says sweetly, bending to press his lips to her cheek.

“See, Momma’s boy. You would think he’s the baby brother,” Marshall jokes.

“You feeling insecure again, Marsh?” another male voice asks, joining us.

“Nope. Just stating facts. Owen has always been Mom’s favorite.”

“I don’t have favorites,” Lena assures her sons.

“Owen was the son who rarely caused any trouble. If he did, it was at his brother’s influence, older and younger,” his dad, Stanley, adds.

“Dad!” The newcomer clutches his chest as if he’s been wounded. “Mom, tell her that’s not true.”

“You boys.” Lena just shakes her head and grins.

“Can I help with anything?”

“You sure can. You can sit with me,” the newcomer says. He reaches for me, but Owen is faster, wrapping his arms around me from behind and holding me close to his chest.

“Find your own woman,” Owen tells him.

“Oh, so it’s like that, is it?” the newcomer asks.

“It’s like that,” Owen confirms.

“Hey, beautiful, I’m Conrad, the sexy brother.”

Marshall laughs, spitting water across the room. “You wish you were as sexy as me.”

“Sorry, boys, that title’s all mine,” another newcomer says. He turns to me, where I’m still wrapped in Owen’s arms. “Message received, brother.” He nods at Owen, then turns his gaze back to me. “Grant, it’s nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand for me to shake. I offer him my hand, and he pulls it to his lips, kissing my knuckles.

“Fuck, can you all not hit on my girlfriend?” Owen says, exasperated.

“Just showing her she has other Riggins options.” Conrad grins cheekily.

“She doesn’t need any other options,” Owen tells them.

“Give the girl some room.” I hear a familiar voice and turn my head to see Sawyer standing in the doorway next to Royce. “Come on, I’ll save you.” She holds her hand out for me, and I take it, letting her pull me from Owen’s embrace. Everyone watching us knows that him letting me go never would have happened if he wasn’t willing. The realization causes a warm, soothing sensation to settle in my chest.

“Thanks,” I tell Sawyer.

“They’re a bunch of softies. You just need to know how to handle them,” she tells me.

“Sis,” Owen says, his tone nothing but playful.

Sawyer waves him off. “Especially that one. It’s the quiet ones you have to worry about,” she teases.

“Why don’t you boys go find something to do so us girls can get to know each other better?”

“Ah, Mom, you always make us miss the good stuff,” Marshall whines.

“What’s the matter, baby brother? Feeling left out?” Owen taunts.

Marshall ignores his brother and turns his gaze on me. “See what I mean? I’m the fun brother, not this killjoy. It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“Come on.” Stanley laughs, placing his hand on Marshall’s shoulder. “I’m not going to stop him when he comes after you. You better stop while you’re ahead.”

“Conrad? You got my back, right?”

Conrad’s loud, boisterous laugh fills the room. “You do see how he looks at her, right? There is no saving you, and I’m not getting in the middle of that.” He points between Owen and me.

“Out. Go on, get. Ladies only in my kitchen.”

I chance a look at Owen, and he’s smiling wide. In two long strides, he’s standing next to me. His lips press to my cheek. “I’ll be in the other room if you need me.” He says the words just low enough for me to hear, giving my hip a gentle squeeze, and following his dad and brothers out of the room.

“Wow,” Sawyer breathes.

“Finally!” Lena throws her hands in the air. “Another one bites the dust.” Her smile is wide and genuine.

“I’m confused,” I say the words, but I’m not nearly as confused as I want them to think that I am. I just need a minute to process what just happened. His family, they accepted me, accepted us without question. When they know where I came from, that’s going to change, and I don’t know that my heart will survive not being a part of this amazing group of people.

“What’s wrong?” Lena asks.

I can feel the hot tears prick my eyes. “My mother is a drug addict and a drunk. I grew up hungry and poor and locking myself in my room at night, fearful of the men she would have over.” I blurt the words before I can think better of it—nothing like just ripping off the Band-Aid and letting the word vomit fall from my mouth. I cover my face with my hands as my embarrassment takes root.