Page 10

A year and some change later

Greer Finlay

D C did have a great kink scene. I had friends in the area. I’d been coming here for events for years already—but could I picture myself living here?

I tossed my duffel on the bed and eyed my shitty motel room.

This was my brother’s fault. Ben and I were supposed to open our branch in South Carolina, not here.

Goddammit. As much as we loved being close to our family, we’d both spent time down south after high school, and we’d fallen for Charleston and Savannah.

I’d worked in Charleston for a few years, and Ben had gone to school in Savannah.

And even though the plan had been to return home to Brooklyn at some point, once we’d decided to open our business together, all of us, Angus had floated the idea that we didn’t all have to be in the same location.

He and Cullen were more rooted in New York, so it made sense for them to stay.

Ben was gonna help Angus get the company off the ground, and once Cullen, Kyle, and I left the service, we’d join them.

Then last week, Ben had dropped the bombshell. He’d met someone in DC. She was fucking pregnant.

I checked my watch. A quick dinner with him in an hour, and then I’d stop by the Master I gave him a subtle once-over as I drank from my beer. He was damn sexy, this polished suit guy. “I have a couple more years on Uncle Sam’s payroll. Then we’ll see.”

Understanding flashed in Lucian’s eyes, and he nodded with a dip of his chin. “I wondered. You military guys stand out. Where are you stationed?”

“North Carolina—Lejeune—but I’m headin’ to Florida soon,” I answered. “We don’t get corporate credit cards, just your hard-earned tax dollars.” The moment the last word left me, someone did a testing, testing into the microphone onstage, so that halted our conversation.

We both turned that way.

“I want to hear more,” Lucian said, clapping me on the back. “Another beer or two after the demos?”

“I’m in.”

* * *

The following week, my last Friday in town for now, I decided that Lucian and I were going to become fantastic friends, partly because he showed up outside the steakhouse fifteen minutes early, like I did.

“Good to see you again, man.” I shook his hand.

“You too, Greer.”

I wasted no time, ’cause I wanted input. Every input I could find. I showed him my phone. More accurately, the listing my mother had sent me. She’d lovingly added, “It’s too far away from home, but at least it’s not Charleston. Which I don’t think you can afford anyway, sweets.”

Thanks, Ma.

“How stupid do I have to be to buy this?”

Lucian tilted his head and scanned the page.

He was a money guy. He might know.

“How long has it been on the market?” he asked, taking the phone from me. He scrolled a bit.

“Four months,” I replied. “My brother thinks I should get it, but this ain’t New York. Winchester’s a solid hour and a half away from here.”

We were wired to look past any dump in New York, because the money was in the land. But as mentioned, this wasn’t Park Slope or Williamsburg. Or even Bay Ridge, for that matter.

“It’ll be one hell of a commute if you do open your business here,” Lucian responded and handed back my phone. “It’s the age-old battle between time and money. It’s a nice property, despite the renovations required.”

Yeah. A lot of renovations. The house was one storm away from collapsing. But I wasn’t strapped for time, and I had some money saved up. Plus, it came with a solid chunk of land.

“A house that size, with the land, could set you back upward of a million in this area,” he went on. “I think the only downsides are, as mentioned, the commute you’d face in the future—expenses for gas, three hours on the road every day…”