Page 14 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis (In The Heart of A Valentine #17)

Chapter

Eight

CHRISTIAN

For the past fifteen years Soulful had sat in the same brick facade on the corner of Delmar and Union.

At this time of season it was draped with autumn garland, and pumpkins clustered around the entrance.

Hickory smoke drifted from the outer edges of the restaurant and hit me in my face as I entered.

Fall had transformed the interior, too. Mason jars filled with orange leaves sat on every table, and cinnamon-scented candles flickered throughout the dining room.

Sounds of my family’s establishment were immediate.

The clink of silverware against the plates, the low chirp of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter from the kitchen where my aunts ruled mingled throughout.

“Nephew!” Aunt Cherry shouted from behind the bar, where she was polishing glasses like a pro. “Your brothers are already out back, baby. Go on through.”

I made my way past families sharing platters of fried catfish and mac and cheese, through the kitchen where Aunt Bernice was orchestrating the dinner rush like a conductor.

“Is that my Christian?” she shouted.

I walked into her open arms and hugged her tight. “The one and only.”

“Awww!” She pinched my cheeks then kissed me on each side. “It’s good to see you. Gone out back and I’ll have you a plate sent out.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Out back, the courtyard had become our unofficial meeting place.

The space was my aunts’ pride and joy, a hidden oasis behind the restaurant where we communed often.

Xander and Elijah were already settled at our usual table with thick cigars between their fingers and snifters of Brandy within easy reach. The sight of them together always struck me, we were clearly brothers, carved from the same genetic blueprint but each distinct in our own way.

Xander looked like he’d stepped off a magazine cover, his russet skin perfectly complemented by the autumn brown wool sweater that hugged his broad shoulders. His beard was trimmed to perfection, and his locs were pulled back, showing off the sharp angles of his jaw.

Elijah was two years younger, in dark molasses skin with hands that could perform miracles on the human brain but were currently wrapped around his Brandy glass.

His low fade was crisp, his goatee immaculately groomed, and the sprinkle of hair on his forearms highlighted against the Edison bulbs.

The maroon button-down he wore was expensive but understated, the quiet luxury that came with being one of the most respected neurosurgeons in the Midwest.

“I made your drink just in time,” Xander said as I approached. “We were about to send a search party.”

“Traffic was a bitch,” I said, settling into the chair they’d left for me. Elijah was already reaching for the bottle, refilling his glass. “And I had to stop by the office. How’s the free clinic coming along?”

Elijah’s expression softened. The clinic he’d opened in North St. Louis was his passion project. It was a place where people without insurance could get quality medical care regardless of their ability to pay.

“We’re seeing about forty patients a week now. We had a grandmother come in yesterday with chest pains. Turned out to be anxiety, but she’d been putting off getting checked because she couldn’t afford it.” He took a sip of his drink. “It makes all the hospital politics worth dealing with.”

“That’s beautiful, man,” I said, meaning it. All three of us had been blessed with success and never forgot where we came from, making sure to give back to our communities in different capacities.

Xander lit his cigar, the flame casting shadows across his features. “Did you see that article in the Post-Dispatch about the team? They’re calling this our best season in five years.”

“Because it is,” Elijah said. “Y’all are actually playing like you remember what teamwork means.”

“Y’all?” Xander raised an eyebrow. “I’m in management now, little brother. I don’t kick balls anymore.”

“No, now you just kick ass when the players don’t perform.”

Their easy banter brought me relief after the confusion of the past few days. This was home, not the penthouse I owned or the office where I spent most of my waking hours, but this table with these men who’d known me since before I knew myself.

I lit my own cigar, savoring the slow burn and the way the smoke mixed with the air. “Where’s my niece?” I asked.

“With her grandmother,” Xander responded.

I nodded. “And how’s Mom doing with the new husband?”

“You mean stepfather number two?” Xander grinned. “She’s happy. Brent treats her like a queen, which is what she deserves after putting up with Dad’s foolishness for thirty years.”

“Dad’s not that bad,” Elijah protested, with a smirk.

“Dad’s a comedian who thinks being charming gives him a free pass on commitment,” I said. “Mom got tired of waiting for him to grow up.”

“Can you blame her?” Xander asked. “Thirty years of ‘someday we’ll get married’ would wear anyone down.”

The back door opened with a bang, and as if summoned by our conversation, Ron Valentine himself strolled onto the patio.

Even at sixty-five, our father commanded attention.

His mocha skin barely showed his age. The silver threading through his beard made him look distinguished rather than old.

He wore a leather jacket over dark jeans, and his smile was the same one that had charmed audiences for decades.

“My boys!” he announced, arms spread wide. “Looking good enough to steal all the women in St. Louis.”

“Dad,” we chorused, standing to embrace him. It was impossible not to smile when Ron was around. His energy was infectious, his laugh soothing, and his love for us absolute, even if his approach to relationships was questionable.

“Sit, sit,” he waved us back down, pulling up a chair from another table. “Don’t let me interrupt the brotherhood meeting.”

“What brings you by?” Elijah asked, signaling for another glass.

“Can’t a father visit his successful sons without having an agenda?” Ron clutched his chest, feigning offense. “I was driving by, saw the cars, thought I’d stop in and see how Cherry’s treating you.”

“Aunt Cherry’s treating us fine,” Xander said. “It’s you we worry about.”

Ron laughed, accepting the Brandy Elijah poured for him. “You boys worry too much. I’m living my best life, performing, traveling, enjoying my freedom.”

“Traveling, huh?” I said. “You mentioned Miami a few weeks ago. Everything good down there?”

Ron’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. “Miami’s always good. Who can resist sunny beaches and beautiful women who appreciate a distinguished gentleman.”

“Dad, we know you’re single, but let me remind you, we don’t want to hear about other women from you,” Elijah said.

“Why? Your mother has moved on with her life, I can’t talk about her anymore.”

“And for good reason,” I added.

He grunted. “It’s time for you all to get over it.”

“We’re over it,” Xander said. “We still don’t want to hear about other women from you.”

“But why?”

“Remember we saw how your separation broke our mother.”

“You won’t let me forget it.”

“We would if you wouldn’t bring up other women around us,” Elijah pointed out.

“Okay, okay. I’ll try. But if I slip up don’t hold it against me. I’m relaxed around my boys,” he smiled. “It’s easy to talk to you.”

“We understand,” Elijah said. “But in case you do slip up, all this back and forth is unnecessary when we mention not hearing about other women from you. Just pivot and talk about something else.”

“And be careful,” Xander added. “Some of us have reputations to maintain.”

“Please. You boys got your charm from me, and I got it from your grandfather. We Valentine men are irresistible. It’s genetic.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that your excuse for everything?”

“It’s not an excuse, it’s a fact. Look at you three—handsome, successful, breaking hearts all over Missouri. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Some of us are trying to build something meaningful,” Elijah said quietly.

Ron’s expression sobered slightly. “And some of us learned the hard way that meaningful doesn’t always mean permanent.

Your mother and I loved each other, but we wanted different things.

Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is let someone find what makes them happy, even if it’s not with you. ”

The conversation was veering into territory none of us were comfortable exploring. Ron’s relationship with our mother had been complicated, passionate, turbulent, and ultimately unsustainable. But it had produced three sons who adored both parents, even if we didn’t always understand their choices.

“How’s Titan doing?” Elijah asked, changing the subject but landing on equally complicated ground.

Ron’s jaw tightened. “Why do you ask?”

“Because he’s our brother,” I said firmly. “And because we want him to be a part of this family, even if it’s difficult.”

“Titan’s...” Ron paused, choosing his words slowly. “Titan’s dealing with his own stuff. He’s angry, and he has a right to be.”

“But he’s family,” Xander said. “Family works through anger.”

“Tell him that,” Ron muttered. “Every time I reach out, he acts like I’m trying to sell him something. The boy’s got walls higher than the Arch.”

I thought about my brief interactions with Titan in Miami. He was guarded and suspicious of everyone. But underneath the attitude, I’d seen flashes of longing. Or hope that he was fighting not to feel.

“He came to that dinner in Miami,” I pointed out. “If he really wanted nothing to do with us, he wouldn’t have shown up.”

“But he’d be a fool to stay away from us. We only want the best for him,” Xander said.

“He’s not a fool,” I said. “He’s been hurt. There’s a difference.”

Elijah studied me. “You like him.”

“I think he’s worth the effort. And I think underneath all that armor, he wants to be a part of this family.”

“Maybe,” Ron said, sounding doubtful. “But wanting and being able to accept are two different things. Titan’s been on his own for a long time. Trusting people doesn’t come easily to him.”

“Then we make it easy,” I said. “We keep showing up. We keep reaching out. We prove that family means everything to us, even including him.”

“I admire your optimism, Son. I hope you’re right about him.”

“I am right about him,” I said. “And even if I’m not, we don’t give up on family.”

Ron smiled then, the expression soft and proud. “That’s my boy. Always willing to fight for what matters, just like your mother.”

“Is that where I get it from?”

“Among other things. Your stubborn streak, your sense of justice, your inability to back down from a challenge—that’s all me, baby.”

“Don’t forget our immaculate good looks,” Xander added with a grin.

“That goes without saying,” Ron laughed.

The courtyard was filling up with other diners seeking the warmth of the heaters and the intimacy of the outdoor space.

“You boys are good men,” Ron said. “Better than your old man in a lot of ways. You’re building great careers and relationships. Your legacies will be immaculate. I’m proud of all of you.”

“Even Titan?” I asked.

Ron’s brows dipped. “Yes, even him. Titan’s survived a life that would have broken weaker men. He’s made something of himself when he had every reason to give up. So yeah, I’m proud of him too, even if he doesn’t want to hear it from me.”

“You should tell him,” Elijah said.

“The best I can do right now, is keep the door of communication open and hope he decides to walk through it.”

Silence settled over us and I took another swig of Brandy.

“So,” Xander said, refilling our glasses, “anyone want to tell me why Christian’s been checking his phone every five minutes?”

I grimaced. I should have known they’d notice.

“Work,” I said automatically.

Elijah laughed. “Don’t you think we know you better than that?”

“Then tell me, genius, what am a I thinking about?”

“A woman.”

I peered at him. “How do you figure?”

“That’s the face you’ve got.”

“I don’t have a ‘thinking about a woman’ face.”

“You absolutely do,” Ron chimed in. “Same face I get when I’m trying to figure out how to apologize for something I probably shouldn’t have done in the first place.”

All three of them were staring at me now with amused expressions. I took a long sip of Brandy, buying time I didn’t really need. These men knew me too well to believe whatever deflection I might offer.

“There’s someone,” I said. “But then, there’s not.”

Their brows furrowed, but Xander’s rose. It must’ve hit him then that my incessant checking had to do with Naomi. But he had no idea the emphasis on my want for her, now that I had gotten a full taste.

“It’s not up for discussion, but if and when it is, I’ll be the first to let you fellas know.”

They glanced at each other then back at me.

“I’ll let you get away with that for now. Especially since we’ve got something to celebrate.”

“Yeaaaaah boy!” Xander said, coming back into the conversation. He whistled and servers approached us with Remy Martin Cognac Louis XIII and four short glasses surrounding it.

I laughed and nodded.

“You didn’t think we forgot did you,” Elijah asked.

“Maybe.” I winked and took the offered drink.

“Congratulations, Son,” Ron said. “You keep kicking ass. We love you very much.”

“Hear! Hear!” Xander and Elijah cheered.

We clinked glasses and drank as dishes were placed around us.

“From the kitchen,” a server said as she sat plates down on the table and strutted off.

“This must’ve come from Aunt Bernice,” Elijah said.

“It did.” And as my eyes fell over the soul food, my mouth watered. I had nothing left to say but a quick prayer before I dug in.