Page 14

“You sure? Because I’m happy to find a chair and read for another hour.”
“Nah. I’m good.”
“Do you read only nonfiction?” I inquired as I led the way to the first floor and the checkout counter.
“Mostly. I used to read fantasy, but I haven’t in years. I’m so behind on all my favorite authors.”
“Well, if you ever want to start again, you can always raid my library. I’ve been collecting since high school, and my collection has gotten out of control.”
“Thanks.”
I bit my tongue to hold in my babbling. It was a good thing the line was short and the young woman ringing me up wanted to chat as she worked, giving me a chance to recover my self-control and collect my thoughts. As it was, I had to use all the self-control I’d gathered to keep myself from offering to buy his book. Byron was a self-sufficient, independent man. He didn’t need a sugar daddy buying all his things.Even though I wanted to be that sugar daddy with every fiber of my fucking being.
As we stepped outside, my stomach growled.
“Lunch!” I shouted and then inwardly cursed myself. That was supposed to be the silent part. “Um. You hungry? It’s…shit!” I glanced at my watch to find that we’d lost hours in that store. “How about a late lunch before I take you home?”
Byron opened his mouth, looking as if he were planning to turn me down, but his expression shifted at the last second and he nodded. “Okay. That sounds nice.”
“Great. I know this place not far from here. My treat.”
And to my even greater shock, Byron didn’t argue.
We climbed into my two-seat convertible Jag—the one thing I could use to show off a bit and treat Byron, since I wasn’t allowed to stick him on a private jet at this very early stage of things. In less than twenty minutes, we’d zipped across town to this restaurant that was always crowded because the dining room was so tiny. However, since I was a key investor, Lisa and Ray always had a table waiting for me.
Amid lots of hugs and excited greetings, we were shown to a secluded table on the back patio that overlooked a pond wherethe dragonflies zipped through the air and a couple of weeping willows dipped branches into the water. There was a steady buzz of conversation from the other diners but out here, the noise dropped to a dull murmur.
“Of course you can get right into The Dragonfly’s Wing,” Byron murmured with a smile after the server left us with water and menus.
“Well, I did give them a good chunk of start-up cash, and I try to eat here at least twice a month. Their T-bone is amazing, and on Sunday, they have the best prime rib in the city.”
Byron’s smile grew even wider. “They also have one of the longest waitlists to get a reservation in the city.”
“Then you’ll have to return with me for another meal.”
My companion said nothing. He just dipped his head behind his menu, directing his attention to finding food. Our conversation meandered as we talked about food preferences and my deep abiding hatred for anything to do with a sweet potato in all its forms.
By the time the server returned and took our orders, we were relaxed once again. A comfortable silence settled between us, and I had a moment to admire his profile as he stared out at the lake. Sometimes we felt like old friends. I’d known Byron for three years. We’d interacted five days a week with few exceptions. Even when one of us took vacation time, we found a reason to sneak into each other’s texts or emails. Going more than a weekend without talking to Byron felt wrong.
“Ronnie would have loved this place,” Byron said suddenly in a voice so soft I almost didn’t hear him.
“Ronnie? An ex?”
Byron gave his head a shake. “My older brother. He loved to fish. Got out on a lake or pond or river any chance he could.”
My heart squeezed for Byron, and I fought the urge to reach across the table to cover his hand with mine. “When did he pass away?”
Byron’s head snapped around and he blinked at me for a second as if he were waking from a trance. “Oh. Sorry. God, I’m an ass. Ronnie didn’t die.” There was a slight redness to the tips of his ears as he gazed at the lake. “Ronnie was involved in a car accident when he was seventeen, and he suffered severe brain damage as a result. He…struggles with memory, speech, and has extremely violent outbursts. There’s only three years’ difference between us, but he’s stuck with the mind of a child in the body of an adult.”
“There must be times where it feels like he died in that accident, because he’s no longer the brother you remember.”
Byron grunted in agreement, his eyes still locked on the lake as if he were lost in thought.
“Would you like to leave? We can find somewhere?—”
“No!” Byron jerked in his seat, his eyes wide. “Absolutely not. I’ve been dying to eat here. Plus, if Ronnie no longer has the chance to visit a restaurant like this, I can at least do it for him.” Byron swallowed hard, and his smile was brittle. “He lives in a hospital now. Long-term care facility. He doesn’t get outside much, but it’s an excellent facility and they take excellent care of him. As best they can…”
“What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with the care he’s receiving?”