Lucian gave an abrupt nod and then raised an eyebrow. “Where is your bag?”
Crap, Justin thought, but said, “At the house. I’m staying.”
Lucian nodded and then asked. “Where?”
He blinked in surprise. “Well, at—”
“Jackie and Vincent gave us permission to use their home for Holly’s training. That’s done. Did you call and ask them if you could stay longer?” he asked mildly. “Or do you plan to stay at your parents’ for the next year or so? You and Mortimer did sell your condo, did you not?”
Justin cursed under his breath. He’d planned to stay at Jackie and Vincent’s, but . . . “The next year or so?” he asked, his frown deepening.
Lucian shrugged. “I am just guessing how long this could take. Holly could change her mind and come around in a couple weeks or months, or she might never. I’m guessing you won’t give up for a good year though.”
Justin scowled at the thought of her not coming around at all. She had to. She was his life mate.
“So how do you plan to fill your time while you’re waiting?” Lucian asked. “Helping out your parents with the dogs?”
He so wasn’t living at his parents’. He loved them, they were great and everything, but they would drive him mad in no time.
“And did you write up a resignation for me to give to Mortimer?” Lucian added pleasantly.
Justin gave a start at that. “A resignation? I’m not resigning.”
Lucian raised his eyebrows, nodded, and then barked, “Then get your ass on the plane.”
“But—” But how would Holly find him if she did change her mind? he wanted to ask. He couldn’t get the words out though.
“Gia gave Holly both her number and yours. If she comes around, she will undoubtedly call one of you. In the meantime, you do nobody any good pacing around Vincent’s house, or your mother’s, eating cheese puffs and refusing to bathe.”
“How do you—”
“You smell,” Lucian interrupted succinctly. “And you have orange powder on your cheek and—” He reached out and plucked something from his hair above his right ear and then held it up in front of Justin’s face. It was the broken end of a cheese puff. Justin had been eating them in bed last night. One must have rolled down his cheek into his hair, he realized. Lucian turned to flick away the remnant of food, then turned back and eyed him solemnly. “It is hard. I know. You are hurting. I know. But if she does change her mind and come for you, do you really want her to find you sitting around here feeling sorry for yourself?” He let that sink in and then added, “You would do better to get back to work, take out your frustration on some rogues, and hold on to your self-respect. Mortimer needs you.”
Justin stared at him blankly for a minute and then shook his head, murmuring, “Wow.”
Lucian narrowed his eyes. “Wow, what?”
“It’s like Leigh is making you almost human,” Justin said, a crooked smile twisting his lips. “You even speak in whole sentences now and everything.”
Lucian scowled. “Get your ass on the plane.”
Justin shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking toward the plane, a little cockiness in his walk. “You need me. You said so.”
“I said Mortimer needs you,” Lucian growled, following.
“Yeah, but you missed me. I can tell,” he said, his smile becoming more natural.
“I missed you like a pain in the ass,” Lucian snapped.
“That’s still missing me,” Justin said on a laugh as he jogged up the plane steps. He was still smiling as he entered the plane and threw himself into one of the four empty seats Dante and Tomasso had left. He watched silently as Lucian pulled the plane door closed and the engine fired up. When the plane began to taxi, Justin turned to peer out the window at the sun-splashed tarmac, his smile fading. He was leaving Holly behind in sunny California, and didn’t know if or when he’d see her again . . . It felt like a part of him was dying.
“Are we supposed to go in, or are Bill and Elaine meeting us out here?” Holly asked James as he steered her car into the restaurant parking lot.
“Inside,” James answered, parking. “Whoever gets here first gets a booth.” Undoubtedly that’ll be them since we’re late as usual.
Holly bit her lip and tried to ignore that thought when it hit her. It hadn’t been directed at her, and hadn’t even been a complaint about her really. It was just a generally unhappy thought, and it was true. They were usually late. Between work and classes, Holly always seemed to be scrambling.
James was always ready on time; he only had work to contend with and after sleeping all day, he’d got up, showered, dressed, and was ready to go when she’d got home. It was she who had rushed in the door after spending all morning in classes and all afternoon at work and then had to rush to get ready. It hadn’t helped that her boss at the present temp job she was working had stopped her on the way out to ask a question. Holly had spent fifteen minutes explaining something she’d already explained to him earlier that day before she could get away. It had put her behind the gun before she’d even walked in the door. They would have had to leave right then to get here on time, but she’d needed to change.
Sighing, she undid her seat belt as James turned off the engine, then slid out of the car when he did and walked around to meet him in front of the vehicle. When he held his hand out, she automatically slid hers into it, and they crossed the parking lot hand in hand. It was the first affectionate gesture she’d felt comfortable with in the two weeks since she’d been home.
Things had been weird since her return, Holly acknowledged, but knew it was all her fault. She was the one who kept reading his thoughts. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t, but had broken that promise repeatedly. She just couldn’t help it, and it was making her crazy.
“There they are.”
Holly tore herself from her thoughts and peered around the restaurant, smiling when she spotted Bill standing up to wave at them. James started forward at once, pulling her along with him and they made their way quickly to the table.
“Oh, baby! Someone’s turned into hot sauce,” Bill said on a surprised laugh as he took Holly into his arms for a bear hug and bussed both her cheeks. He stepped back then, but kept his hold on her arms to look her over, adding, “What the hell have you done to yourself? I mean I can see you’ve lost weight, but it’s like you’ve taken a sexy drug or something.”
Holly blushed furiously at the compliment. It was the weirdest damned thing. Ever since getting home, people were acting like she’d turned into Angelina Jolie while she was gone. Not just the men, but the women. It was like the nanos were some sort of chick magnet that attracted members of both sexes. It was bizarre, and discomfiting for Holly, who wasn’t at all comfortable in social situations to begin with. Although, she’d never felt anxious around Justin, Gia, Dante, and Tomasso, she recalled.
“You do look good,” Elaine agreed, nudging her husband out of the way to hug Holly as well. She then looked her over as she released her and shook her head. “What is it? Some amazing and weird New York diet?”
Holly shook her head on a strained laugh and quickly slid into the booth to hide behind the table as she said, “Just lots of fresh air I guess.”
“Yeah, right, fresh air. In New York?” Bill snorted as they all settled in the booth, he and Elaine taking the opposite bench seat and James sliding in beside her. “That would be the pollution diet then?”
“If that’s what pollution does for you, I’m in,” Elaine said with a grin.
Holly smiled faintly and picked up the menu lying on the table in front of her, hoping they’d change the subject.
“You must be happy to see her, James my boy,” Bill said and then teased, “I bet the house hasn’t stopped rocking for the last two weeks.”
James gave a weak laugh and muttered, “You know it.”
Holly bit her lip and glanced sideways at her husband behind the protection of the menu. She was just in time to see him open and raise his own in front of his face. The action blocked him from Bill and Elaine’s view, but she could see it and his expression was pinched. Sighing, she turned her attention back to her menu. The house hadn’t rocked at all the last two weeks. They hadn’t even had sex on Sunday night as they usually did . . . and that was her fault too.