I held my breath and waited for my brother to make his move. I really hoped it wouldn’t be a fist to Jonah’s face. Thankfully, my desperate prayers were answered, and Gibson grudgingly took the seat I kicked at him.

Clarabell, clairvoyant waitress that she was, arrived with a coffee for Gibson. “You boys want breakfast?” she asked Jameson and Gibson.

She took their orders—waffles for Jameson, who was as much a sugar whore as I was, and just the coffee for Gibs.

“I’m guessin’ we all have some questions for one another,” I began.

“I want to know why you’re here,” Gibson said to Jonah without looking at him. His tone was flat and lacked the heat of his anger last night.

“Curiosity mostly,” Jonah answered.

Devlin shifted in his chair next to me. He was uncomfortable with the situation, but since Jonah was his temporary roommate and I was planning on sleeping with Devlin at some point, he might as well stick around and get his ears full.

“About us?” I asked Jonah.

He nodded. “I don’t care about your father—our father,” he corrected himself. “He had no interest in me and my life, and I’m happy to return that favor. But I didn’t know about you.”

“I’d be curious, too,” Bowie admitted. “Why don’t we do some preliminary introductions at least?”

Sallie Mae Brickman was leaning so far back in her chair to catch the scraps of our conversation I worried she’d end up on her ass in her Sunday best.

“You already know that I’m Scarlett. I’m the youngest and only girl. I run Bodine’s Home Services, and I’ve got a few rental properties here in town.”

“I’m Bowie, your age, which puts us as the second oldest in the crooked Bodine totem pole. I’m the vice principal at the high school.”

Jameson hated shit like this, so I enjoyed watching him squirm.

I grinned at him. “Come on, Jame. It’s not that hard.”

“Jameson, second youngest. I work with metal.”

“He’s a pretty amazing artist,” I supplied for Jonah. It was true. What Jameson couldn’t seem to put into his human interactions, he twisted and welded in metal form. His popularity had skyrocketed since he’d been commissioned to do a large-scale installation in a park in Charleston.

“You know who I am,” Gibson said, his tone surly.

“Yeah, we get that you’re the resident asshole, brother dearest. Tell Jonah something he doesn’t know,” I suggested helpfully.

“I’m the oldest. I’m a woodworker.”

I snorted. “Gibson likes working with wood.”

“Nothing makes Gibs happier than havin’ a handful of wood,” Bowie agreed with a wink.

Even Gibson managed a smirk at that while the rest of us busted up laughing.

“It’s a double entendre about erections,” I whispered to Devlin who appeared not to have gotten the joke.

“I get it,” he said dryly.

“Your turn, Dev. Tell Jonah who you are.”

“I’m Devlin. I have nothing to do with your situation.”

“What do you do, McAllister?” Gibson asked, shifting his pissed-offness to Devlin.

“I’m a disgraced lawmaker in the Maryland State Assembly.”

I choked on my coffee and sent a fine spray across the table.

“Thanks, Scar,” Bowie said, mopping up the mess.

“Disgraced in what way?” Jameson pressed. Jameson was interested enough to ask questions. That was a first.

“I was going to get around to telling you this part,” Devlin said, looking at me sheepishly.

“Oh, boy.” I could only imagine. This was the part where he told me he ran over his soon-to-be ex-wife or, worse, took a vow of chastity.

“My wife was cheating on me, and I was too busy to notice,” Devlin said matter-of-factly. “When I did notice, it wasn’t pretty. My divorce will be final in a few weeks.”

He shot me the side-eye.

“Uh-huh.” I knew all this already.

“I’m on leave and under orders to lay low because, on the last day we were in session, I assaulted the guy she was sleeping with.”

Bowie slapped the table and hooted.

Gibson gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval. “Bet that felt good,” he predicted.

The corner of Devlin’s mouth quirked up.

I reached under the table and squeezed his knee. His truth seemed to embarrass him. But a man who’d punch out an asshole didn’t scare me. Hell, in Bootleg, that was an admirable quality.

“Your turn, Jonah. Spill your guts,” I said cheerfully.

“I’m Jonah Bodine. My mom gave me my father’s name, but that’s the only piece of him I ever had or wanted. I live in Washington State, and I’m a personal trainer. Until a week ago, I thought I was an only child. I don’t want anything from you. Just maybe a chance to get to know you. If you’re not all assholes.” Jonah reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. My brothers and I shared a glance. It was a nervous trait we’d all seen in our father.

“Why didn’t he want anything to do with you?” Gibson asked.

“Jeez, Gibs,” I rolled my eyes. “Maybe tone it down a notch?”

“No, it’s okay,” Jonah shrugged. “My mom never talked about him much. We used to live in Virginia. I guess she met your dad at a diner when he was passing through. I didn’t ask for details. She didn’t know he was married. She said he tried to make it right, but she didn’t want to ruin a family. So we made our own.”

“You said last night you’d met him twice?” I prodded.

Jonah nodded. “First time when I was like six or seven. We were still in Virginia then, and he came to the house one day. I was playing in the yard. We threw ball. I didn’t know. I was just a kid. When my mom came out, she freaked. Sent me inside. They talked for a long time in the yard, and then she cried the rest of the night.”

Gibson was staring hard at the table. Bowie was frowning into space. Jameson was his usual unreadable self. I wasn’t sure who I hurt for more.

“Before I put y’all’s food down, is there gonna be anyone else joining you?” Clarabell asked, carting a tray of steaming breakfast food.

Devlin answered for us all, and she doled out the hot plates.

“Be back with refills,” she promised and hustled away.

We dug in in silence and let Jonah’s story settle over us.

“You said you saw him twice,” Gibson said, finally breaking the silence.

Jonah poked at his eggs. “We moved cross-country when I started college. One weekend, I came home with a basket of laundry, and there he was at my mother’s house. He was drunk, upset about something, and she was treating him like a sick kid. I blew up. She had a boyfriend at the time, a nice guy. I thought he was back to mess things up for her again. I left, went back to school. We never spoke about it again.”

“I don’t know if y’all did the math, but that lines up with when Dad disappeared after Mom died,” I said quietly.

“So, he waited all of five seconds after she died before running back to the woman he had an affair with?” Gibson asked bitterly. “No offense,” he added at Jonah.

“Do you think Mom knew?” Bowie asked.

No one answered him.

I didn’t know what the best answer would be. Mama and Daddy’s relationship was volatile at best. In most ways, their relationship never progressed past the high school years. Petty jealousies, unrealistic expectations. They fought more than they got along, and we’d grown up thinking it was normal. There was a good reason none of us Bodines had settled down. We didn’t know how.

Cassidy and June’s parents, Sheriff Harlan and Nadine Tucker, were another story. Steady and strong. I know there’d been times over the years when they’d stepped up for each one of us when our own parents weren’t capable. I was grateful. And jealous.

Devlin cleared his throat. “It sounds like the next best step would be for you all to spend some time together. Get to know each other and decide if this is a relationship you want to develop or let go.”

We all looked at him.

“Look at you bein’ all lawyerly,” I crooned.

“Well, would you look at that, Bodines?” Bowie announced. “A mature suggestion that actually makes sense.”

“I guess it’s less taxing than beating the shit out of each other,” Gibson mused. He waved Clarabell over. “Clarabell, I changed my mind. I think I’ll have the eggs benedict.”