“Why wouldn’t it be? He’s my family, and if all goes according to plan, she will be too before long.”
The tongs smack against the grate, catching my attention. I glance back to Mike and take in the look of shock on his face.
“Seriously? You’re in that deep here?”
I nod slowly. “She’s it, man. I know you’ve got your reservations, but Scarlett is good people. The best.”
“She comes from a totally different world, son. That kind of barrier is hard to navigate, even for someone as smart as yourself.”
I’ve always loved it when Big Mike calls me son. It makes me feel wanted. Like I belong. The Quinterro family didn’t just save Bump’s life; they saved mine too. Without this family, I don’t know where I’d be today.
Because of the bond we share, I don’t take offense to Mike’s questions. He’s looking out for me the same as he would for one of his own kids, and that kind of concern isn’t something I take for granted. I know all too well what it’s like to have no one give a shit about me, and I’ll take this any day of the week.
“We understand each other,” I say, reaching out to stab a burger with my fork off the plate he’s loading up. “She’s from a different world, but that’s not who she is. She gives a damn about people. She loves Bump. She knows what it’s like to get the shaft from family. Apparently, that’s an experience not just reserved for people who come from shit like me.”
Big Mike’s bushy eyebrows knit together. “She got a crap mom?”
“Mom’s dead. But her dad, he’s a piece of fucking work.”
Big Mike’s expression turns thunderous. “I’ll never understand parents who don’t give a damn about their kids. They brought them into this fucking world. It’s their responsibility to do their duty. Too many people have forgotten what the fuck that means.”
It’s a lecture I’ve heard more than once, and something I believe in to my bones. My kids will never know anything except how much I fucking love them, and how goddamn grateful I am that they’re mine.
“Scarlett’s cut from the same cloth as me when it comes to that, old man. She’ll be fierce as fuck as a mother. I can only imagine what she’d do if someone riled her up.”
A smile crosses Mike’s face. “Good. That’s what you need. Someone willing to go to bat for you and yours when it matters. If that’s what you’re getting from her, then you’ve got my wholehearted approval, son. Not that you need it, but you got it all the same.”
Warmth fills my chest. “Thank you. Means a lot to me.”
“Now, go take these burgers over to the table. We’ve got more if anyone’s still hungry.”
I take the plate, but Mike holds out the tongs to stop me.
“I know Mel talked to you about her bully problem. Thank you for giving her a pep talk. That girl is going to set the world on fire one of these days, if some stupid boy doesn’t get in the way.”
I give him a chin lift. “Anytime. That’s what family does.”
“Damn right. Now, go eat, Gabe. No letting these burgers and brats go to waste. Joanie’ll kick my ass.”
Thirty-Three
Scarlett
I’ve never been so full in my entire life, but I don’t regret a single bite. Joanie and Mike laid out an amazing spread, and every bit of it was delicious.
True to my word, I volunteered for dish duty, but Joanie tried to turn me down in favor of making Melanie do them. However, I persisted, and now I find myself elbow deep in a sink of suds while I hear gasps and cheers coming from the backyard over whatever is happening with the football game. Since my appreciation of the game starts and ends with the fact that the players are wearing tight pants, I’m not too worried about missing anything.
Footsteps alert me to the fact that someone is heading into the kitchen. When I glance over my shoulder, I expect to see Joanie coming in with another tray of dishes, trying to shoo me out of the way, but it’s not.
It’s Q, and his expression is more serious than I’d expect to see at a casual Sunday cookout. I gesture to the plate in his hand with my elbow.
“You can set it on the counter. I’ll wash it for you.”
He comes toward me slowly. “What are you trying to prove here? You’re Scarlett Priest, Manhattan socialite, not some chick who washes dishes for a Puerto Rican family you barely know.”
“Still not my biggest fan, huh? Despite what you assume, I don’t think I’m better than you or your family. And washing dishes is my way of thanking your parents for inviting me into their home and treating me with such gracious hospitality.” My tone thankfully remains unaffected, and I’m proud of that.
“You sound like you really believe that.” Instead of sounding like a dick, Q’s statement comes out confused.
I pull my hands out of the soapy water, wipe them on a dish towel, and turn around to face him. “Simple explanation for that—because it’s the truth.”
He walks to the counter with measured steps and slides his plate and silverware across it. “Gabe isn’t just my best friend; he’s my brother. Doesn’t matter that we don’t share blood. That bond is solid. I’m not going to lose him because of you.”
I blink twice. “Why would you lose him? I’m not following.”
“You’re gonna want to change him to fit in with your life, and I’m not okay with that. If you can’t let him be who he is, then you need to walk away. Now.”
Q’s words hit me hard.
“And you’re here to what . . . threaten me into leaving him? Because I have to warn you, that’s not happening.”
He squints at me, like he’s trying to solve an invisible puzzle on my face. “Why do you want him? Is it just for a walk on the wild side? To be able to say you brought Gabriel Legend to his knees? Is that the game?”
I put my hands on my hips and attempt to lock down my temper, but I’m only partly successful if my tone is any indication of what I’m feeling.
“Is that all you think your best friend—your brother—has to offer someone? A walk on the wild side? If that’s the case, first, you don’t know me at all, and second, you don’t know him as well as you think you do. Gabriel is the most honorable, intelligent, thoughtful, kind, and loyal man I’ve ever met. Meeting him, regardless of how, is the best thing to ever happen to me. I love him, and there isn’t a goddamned thing I wouldn’t do for him. What do you have to say to that, Q? Is that good enough for you? Or do you think I have some other hidden motives here?”
He opens his mouth to reply, but I’m not done.
“Because I’ll tell you another thing. I don’t need him. I don’t need any man. I’m strong, smart, savvy, and I’ve got boatloads of money. But you know what? I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything in my life. He lights me up. He makes me laugh. He brings me joy. I love Bump, and Roux, and goddammit, Q, if you weren’t such an asshole, I’d probably love you too.”
I shrug, realizing my guts have officially been spilled. “Eventually,” I add quietly with a sniffle at the end, clueing me in to the fact that I’m near tears with my speech.