“Not that I’ve ever doubted your skills,” Jax tells me later that night. “But how the fuck did a chick like Sierra end up with you?”

I laugh. “I have no fucking clue.”

Setting a bag of takeout from the bar on the coffee table, I fall onto the couch. It’s two o’clock in the morning, and I’m fucking tired. I had to go straight down to the bar after coming home from Mercy hospital. Dakota wasn’t handling the transition from only child to older sister of two very well. She asked if I would take her to get a Happy Meal for lunch, and of course I said yes. There’s a McDonalds less than a block away from the hospital and it wasn’t too hot to comfortably walk to it.

Josh was fine with it. Melissa was fine with it. Melissa’s parents were fine with it. But Judy Henson—low and behold—wasn’t. It led to an awkward conversation between Josh and his mother, Dakota crying, and Melissa, who was worn out and in pain, snapping at Judy.

Melissa’s father ended up coming with, which wasn’t as bad as I expected. The guy was talkative but nice and thanked me more than once for filling in at the bar so Josh could spend more time at home with Melissa and the babies.

“Makes sense why you fell off the grid,” he goes on. “But what are you going to do?”

I take a bite of my burger and shoot him a look. “With what?”

“Playing house here.”

I shrug. “I like it here.”

Jax, who’s never been much of a talker, grunts. He opens his bag of takeout and puts his feet up on the coffee table, flipping through channels.

“Want to know something fucked up?” I blurt.

“I love fucked up.”

“My phone broke, and I had to send it in to get the screen replaced. That’s why I fell off the grid. And I got a temporary in its place. It’s Sierra’s dead boyfriend’s phone.”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“The person who sold it second-hand failed to do a factory reset and deleted shit by hand. But they forgot the voicemails. Sierra kept calling him after he died.”

Jax blinks, looks away, then back at me again. “You listened to the messages?”

“A few of them.”

“Does she know?”

“No. I listened before I knew it was her.”

“That is not the kind of fucked up I was expecting. I thought you were going to say cousins really do hook up here and Sierra’s got a hot cousin that joins in with you two.”

I make a face. “You have issues.”

Jax laughs at himself. “I do. But I’m also enjoying the visual of Sierra having a near-identical cousin. They’re really going at it—fuck. Here you come, ruining everything.”

I chuckle and shake my head. “I can never tell her, can I?”

Jax takes in a deep breath and pulls his French fries from the bag. “Fuck if I know. Are they sex-messages?”

“No, but it’s obvious she didn’t want anyone else to hear.”

“Yeah, I don’t—wait. She has a dead boyfriend?”

I nod, taking another bite of food. “He died almost two years ago. Car accident.”

“Fuck,” Jax mutters, turning his attention back to the MMA game on TV. I finish eating, take a shower, and fall into bed. I’m tired but can’t fall asleep because my damn mind won’t shut off and I keep thinking about Sierra. Doing the right thing has never kept me up at night. I’ve never lost sleep over what someone might think of me.

Sierra changes everything. She’s changing me without trying. Or maybe she’s not. Maybe she’s just exposing who I’ve been all along and fought hard to cover up.

* * *

“My mother has formally invited us to family dinner this Sunday,” Sierra tells me. I brought her lunch at The Book Bag today, and we’re sitting together behind the counter. “I’m sorry in advance.”

“It’ll be fine.”

She purses her lips. “You don’t know my family.”

“Tell me about them.” I put my hand on Sierra’s thigh, inching my fingers under the hem of her black skirt.

“Scott’s cool. But he doesn’t live here. My sister Sam is as type-A as type-A can be. Same with her husband, Brent. My dad talks about two things: work or the New Orleans Saints. My mom and Aunt Kelly are judgmental as fuck, and my Gran knows everything about everyone in the town.” She dips her fry in cheese sauce. “They’re not bad people though. Very nosey, but not bad. Nothing is off limits either.”

“I can handle it.” I squeeze her thigh and Sierra moves her leg, letting me slip my fingers further between. Then the bell above the door dings and I move my hand down to her knee.

“Hi, Mrs. McKay,” Sierra says to the woman who walked through the door, greeting her with a smile.

“Hello, darling,” Mrs. McKay replies. Her eyes go to me and narrow.

“She works with Judy Henson,” Sierra whispers to me once Mrs. McKay walks down an aisle. Sierra rolls her eyes and puts her hand on mine, letting me know she doesn’t give a shit what people think.

I stay with Sierra a while longer and then leave to work at the bar. I’m opening and closing tonight and already dreading it. I’m not a nine-to-five guy. Hell, even working evenings and nights at the bar is already getting to me. Maybe Jax was right to think living a life like this is bullshit.