Page 98 of Love By Design

CHAPTER 30

MARSHALL

On Wednesday, Hunter showed up—unannounced—at lunch, looking like someone had kicked his puppy. I worried, in this instance, the puppy was our youngest brother.

“What?” I asked, closing the lid on my laptop and leaning back in my chair for a stretch. I’d been hunched over it for hours crunching numbers and waiting for either a confirmation or rejection about Cahuenga Pass so I’d be able to put Silas out of his misery over the whole thing.

I hadn’t seen him since the weekend, which was…fine.

He’d been in touch, which was not only appreciated but required, and I knew at home with Lincoln he was in good hands. Figuratively, at least. If not literally, on occasion. But always platonically. I’d worried getting used to the tactile nature of their friendship would take me some time, but it had slotted into place in my brain just as quickly as Silas had found his way into my heart. I’d spent most of the morning toying with the idea of taking him out to Rapture over the weekend, but Hunter’s arrival meant I’d need to save that conversation for later.

“Spoke with Andrew,” he said.

Frowning, I gestured for him to come in and close the door behind him.

Hunter was dressed for court, a navy suit and burgundy tie. He dropped his bag on the floor and sank into one of the leather guest chairs opposite my desk. The material creaked beneath his weight, and he grimaced, rolling his eyes at me.

“This chair is absurd.”

“It’s design.”

“It’s uncomfortable,” he said.

“You can stand.”

“Can we go?” He did stand after that, leaving his bag on the floor. “Get lunch or something.”

I glanced around my office, at the blueprints and the general state of the place, then stood. “Yeah. Lunch is good.”

We walked down to the same cafe we always favored on his midday visits, ordered the same sandwiches and the same drinks. It wasn’t until our orders were in that I leveled my brother with a look meant to push him into telling me more about his call with Andrew.

Hunter opened with, “He’s requested to be written out of the inheritance.”

“That’s…”

“Surprising,” he supplied, and I nodded my agreement. “He doesn’t want anything to do with the Covington name.”

I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue. “Or the Covington men?”

Hunter snorted a laugh that died in the back of his throat. “He maintains he will always be a Calavert.”

“Fine with me.”

“And Smith, I’m sure,” Hunter said. “But he does want to meet us.”

“Why?”

The waiter appeared with our lunch and refills on our water, which was appreciated since I was relatively confidentwe had ended up in the Sahara for how dry my throat was. I’d welcomed three brothers into my world over the course of my life. There was no reason for a fourth one to throw me off so dramatically. I’d done my best to hold it together for Smith’s sake, but when I was alone…

“Curiosity, I imagine.”

I sighed. “I’ve been meaning to check on Finn. How did he take the news after Smith and I left on Friday night?”

“In stride, as usual.”

I believed that about Finn, who was so amenable in all things I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever seen him upset about anything that well and truly mattered. It was as if he’d managed to get all of the nonchalance in the genes, leaving Hunter, Smith, and me to carry the burden of always worrying in one way or another.

“And Smith?” Hunter asked.