Page 5 of My Craving

Chapter 2 Duncan

“That is not what happened,” Jaxon says patiently to Xavier.

“It so totally is exactly what happened.” Xavier rolls his eyes dramatically.

Xavier’s gotten really fucking loud over the past year. When he first came into our lives, he was quiet and hesitant, measuring every word before speaking. Not anymore. Now he fills the silence with sarcasm, implausible stories, and opinions nobody asked for, and Declan hangs on every word. Xavier could claim the moon was made of cheese, and my son would probably spend the next hour researching dairy production in space just to prove him right.

They’ve both changed since finding each other. Declan smiles more, works less, and has more patience than I’ve ever seen from him, while Xavier makes damn sure everyone knows when he enters a room. I’ve watched the same thing happen with Ronan and Colton, Conor and Jaxon, and Kieran has always been that way with Alessia. Wanting someone makes sense to me. Even loving them. What I don’t understand is willingly giving someone enough power over you that losing them could destroy you.

A few days ago, I asked Conor why Jaxon. He told me being with Jaxon made everything else quieter and that Jaxon was his. Declan gave me an even simpler answer when I asked about Xavier. Just because he’s mine. Apparently, that was enough of an explanation for both of them, but it wasn’t for me.

“Hey, Daidí,” Xavier calls, butchering the Irish word beyond recognition. “Want to have lunch with us tomorrow? We’re trying that new deli a couple of blocks from the office.”

“No.” The answer leaves my mouth before he’s finished asking.

Xavier narrows his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re eating at your desk again. You used to come with us all the time, and now we practically have to drag you out of your office.”

“It hasn’t killed me yet.”

“That’s debatable.” A few chuckles ripple through the room, but Xavier ignores them. “Seriously, what changed?”

“Eating in my office works better for me.”

Xavier stares at me before looking at Declan. “See? This is why we need to kidnap him occasionally.”

I take another drink and let them laugh because there isn’t a fucking chance I’m giving Xavier the real answer. Every afternoon, Nash Campbell comes through the executive floor doors pushing his cart and talking to whoever happens to be nearby. He’s too loud, too animated, and entirely too fucking noticeable. Somewhere along the way, I started recognizing his voice before he reached my office and looking up when I heard it. Now I know roughly when he’ll arrive without checking the time, and I’d rather stay in my office and wait for him than go to lunch with my family.

I could eat anywhere in the building, but I choose my office because Nash comes there. Thursdays are the exception. He doesn’t work, and without any reason to wait around for his cart to come through the executive floor, I usually leave my office for lunch. That’s as far as I’m willing to examine it. He’s thirty-one, fifteen years younger than me, and an employee several layers removed from my position. In nearly six months, we’ve exchanged little more than greetings and the occasional thank you. I can look. I have no intention of doing anything else.

“Jaxon, are you sparring with us today?” Finn changes the subject.

Once a month, the family gathers at my house for hand-to-hand combat. Firearms training takes place at the range on the compound.

“No, thank you. I’m just going to watch.” Jaxon’s answer is quiet, but his shoulders tighten and his fingers curl against his thigh. He’s never sparred with us, and no one pushes him. Not long ago, he was being forced to fight in an underground ring after everything he’d already carried home from the Marines. Being in the room while the rest of us fight is enough.

Conor’s attention shifts to him immediately. Give either of us the man responsible for hurting someone we love, and we know exactly what to do with him. Conor can’t do that with whatever follows Jaxon around inside his own head. There’s no person he can put his hands on or threat he can eliminate. All he can do is be there when Jaxon needs him, and I understand how much he fucking hates that.

We make our way to the gym, where a single oversized training mat dominates the room. The faint scent of industrial cleaner hangs in the air instead of sweat. I have the room cleaned four days a week, and after every session, the equipment goes back where it belongs and the mats are sanitized.

Jaxon and Xavier take seats along the wall while Colton joins the rest of us. Everyone knows to take it easy with him. Not because Colton can’t handle himself, but because hurting him would probably end with the rest of us pulling Ronan off whoever did it. We’ve learned to work around my nephew where Colton is concerned.

Finn and Liam step into the center of the mat, and Liam immediately starts running his mouth, throwing insults and questioning Finn’s parentage despite the fact that they share both parents. He calls it trash talk, but Liam has been finding ways to make sure nobody forgets he’s in the room since he was a boy.

Ronan steps up beside me, his attention fixed on the match unfolding across the mat. “Forty-two.”

I glance at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“That’s how many times you’ve eaten lunch at your desk in the last three months.”

I turn my head toward him. “Why the fuck are you keeping track of where I eat lunch?”

“I keep track of everyone’s schedules.”

That sounds exactly like Ronan, so I shouldn’t have bothered asking. I turn my attention back to the match, hoping that will be the end of it, but my nephew has never been particularly good at recognizing when another person wants him to shut the fuck up.

“You used to eat with us more,” Ronan says. “Something changed.”

“I decided to eat in my office. It doesn’t require an investigation.”