Page 72 of Truck Me
That sunshine has a name, and it’s Charlotte Weber.
It’s not even been twelve hours since she left me this morning, and I miss her. I don’t miss anyone.
She’s consumed my thoughts and distracted me from my work in ways nothing ever has. Normally, a distraction like that would piss me off.
But not today.
That’s why today is so fucking unusual.
I welcome her as a distraction, and I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.
Rather than dwell on what this means, I do something else I rarely do. I head over to Grams’ house for dinner.
I probably should have warned someone I was coming over because the looks of surprise I get when I walk through the back door are alarming. You’d think I killed someone’s puppy with how silent the kitchen falls.
“Garret!” Grams rushes to my side and cups my cheeks. “You’re just in time for dinner. Let me set you a place.”
“Thanks, Grams.” I pull her in for a hug and kiss the top of her head before I hang up my coat and kick off my boots in the mudroom.
“I’m sorry to say you missed Mac and Sophia,” Grams says as she rearranges the table to make a place for me. “They went out to dinner tonight, but everyone else is here.”
I glance around the table and all my brothers are staring at me. Liam and Christian wear matching frowns, but Chase and Ash are grinning like they know something and are about to drop it on me like a bomb.
As is typical when I’m around, Dad doesn’t look up from his damn newspaper.
Grams finishes setting all the food on the table—chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and corn. It smells so good my stomach growls loudly in anticipation.
Grams chuckles when she passes me and pats my back. “If you came over more often, you’d get a lot more meals like this, boy.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I drop my head and wait for her to take her seat. She always leads us in grace before we’re allowed to dig in.
Dad folds up his paper and stuffs it under his chair. I feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look in his direction. He and I have never gotten along, and I’m not interested in ruining my good mood. They come along so rarely, and I want to savor this one.
“Ash, you’re up,” Grams says once she finishes grace. Youngest always eats first.
Ash digs in, then Chase and Christian. Since I’m here, those two take their sweet time filling up their plates. I’m sure, in part, to piss me off. They know I hate waiting to eat. Too bad for them, my good mood is making it so I don’t care.
But they don’t know that. So they interpret my body language and glare accordingly.
They both take their seats and share a confused look. I didn’t respond like I normally would. I struggle to hide my smile and it shows. Chase raises a brow, his own lips turning up into a grin.
I ignore him and fix my plate. As soon as I sit back down, Ash starts on me.
“So, it’s true,” Ash says. “You and Charlotte?”
My eyes snap to his and I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Rumor has it you two got in a little tiff in the parking lot outside of Posey’s last night.”
The kitchen falls eerily quiet.
Grams gets up from her seat and grabs a beer from the fridge. Then she sets it down in front of me as if she knows I’m going to need it for this conversation. Maybe coming over for dinner was a mistake.
I take a long pull before I meet Ash’s teasing gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure, you don’t.” He chuckles. “Rumor also has it her car was seen leaving your house early this morning. Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us?”
I glare at him, and his smile grows. Normally I’d tell him to fuck off or growl or grumble some other objection under my breath. But I don’t. Instead, I turn my attention back to my plate without responding to him.