Page 55 of Someone to Call My Own
“You say that now, but I can convince you otherwise when we’re alone,” Deanna smugly said before she turned and walked into the coffee shop by herself.
“I’m going to play hard to get when we get home,” John announced. “That woman takes me for granted.” Emory and I both burst into laughter at the same time because we knew better. “You’re a couple of assholes,” John mumbled then followed his wife inside.
“I think I’m going to play hard to get too,” I told Emory. Instead of laughing, he smiled mischievously.
“Oh, please do, Jon.” That sounded a lot like a challenge.
I opened my mouth to respond, but my ringing phone interrupted me. We both expected it to be club business, but Corbin’s name popped up on the caller ID. I instantly knew something was up because Corbin didn’t usually get out of bed until two in the afternoon. He enjoyed staying up all hours of the night at his club where I preferred to be home with my guy.
“I’ll order our drinks and grab a table while you talk to Corbin.” Emory kissed my cheek and went inside.
“Hey, Cor. What’s up?”
“Hey, Romeo. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s your dick,” Corbin replied. His funny remark couldn’t disguise the tension in his voice. He cleared his throat nervously when I didn’t take the bait. “I’m going dark for a little while.”
The hair stood up on the back of my neck. “Are you in trouble?”
“No, it’s not me,” Corbin replied quickly. “It’s someone else, and he’s… um… important to me. I need to make things right.”
“Do you need help? I can be there in—”
“No, Jon,” Corbin said, swiftly cutting me off. “I can never express how much it means to me that you’d drop everything to help me, but you have an amazing life with a wonderful man. I’d never ask you to put that on hold to help me with something that might not get resolved very fast.”
“Corbin, I owe you and Beau everything.”
“You can repay us by living the happy life you deserve. Whether Beau wants to admit it or not, I’m pretty sure he’s on the same path to happily ever after.”
“What about you, Cor?” I asked him. “Will this mission ensure you find your happily ever after too?” Happily ever after?Who the fuck was talking? We weren’t some motherfucking Disney princes.
“I think it might, Jon.”
“Then do what you must. If you get in a bind, you only have to call me. Anytime…”
“… or anyplace,” he finished for me. It had been our motto for two decades. “I appreciate it, brother.”
“Have you called Beau?”
“I’m calling him next. I’m sure his nosy ass will ask more questions than you did.”
“Well, he’s a lawman now, so asking questions is what he does,” I reminded him. “Take care of yourself, Cor.”
“I’d tell you the same, but you have someone doing that for you. I’m looking forward to meeting Emory,” Corbin said. I heard the genuine smile in his voice. “I’ve enjoyed talking to him on the phone, but I have to meet the man who won Jon Silver’s heart.”
“We’re looking forward to it also. Make sure it’s sooner rather than later.”
“I’ll check in when I can.”
“Do that,” I said firmly.
I stood outside for a minute after we said our goodbyes. I couldn’t help worrying about my friend, but I knew he was more than capable of handling whatever he’d gotten himself involved in. I couldn’t help but wonder about the identity of the man who he classified as important to him. Of the three of us, Corbin was the most allergic to the idea of relationships and love. He said his southern mafia roots soured him on the idea that people entered the bonds of matrimony for any reasons other than money, manipulation, or politics.
I looked up from my phone, and my eyes met Emory’s through the large window front. Memphis sat beside him talking a mile a minute, but he wasn’t paying a bit of attention to what his cousin said. I shoved all my thoughts of Corbin aside and smiled at the man who fucking owned my heart. It wasn’t that I suddenly stopped worrying about my friend; I accepted that he knew what he was doing and would call me if he needed me.
I opened the coffee shop door and took a deep breath so I could savor the delicious aroma of pastries and coffee. “Hey, Em and Mem,” I said when I sat at the table.
“No!” Emory and Memphis said at the same time.
“We don’t do cutesy shit anymore,” Memphis said.