Hunter laughs, and it warms me. “No. When it comes to my girl, I’ll rip this town to pieces if I have to.”
I glance at his brothers. They’re both smiling. Just two men watching their brother fall and being quietly, completely fine with where he lands.
“Daddy! I wanna get Gary!” Wyatt shouts from somewhere behind us.
Hunter grins. “Bacon first.”
Wyatt lets out a huff so dramatic it could win an Oscar and stomps into the dining room.
“I’ll go sit with him,” I say.
I go up on my tiptoes, place a soft kiss on Hunter’s lips, and feel his hand brush the small of my back as I pull away.
I settle into the chair opposite Wyatt. He’s already telling me about Gary. How Gary likes apples but not carrots, how Gary once ate a whole shoe, how Gary sleeps standing up sometimes, and it’s really funny.
I listen to every word. Rest my chin on my good hand and let this little boy talk my ear off about his goat while his father cooks breakfast and his uncles bicker over the last of the coffee.
Plates start appearing. Hunter brings the bacon and eggs to the table. Ace carries a stack of pancakes so tall it looks structurally unsound. The broader brother—the one I haven’t got a name for yet—sets a fresh pot of coffee in the middle and then turns to me.
He extends his hand. “Colten,” he says. “We didn’t get a proper introduction last night.”
I shake his hand with my good one. “Lola. Sorry for the chaos.”
“Chaos is pretty standard around here.” He gives me something that’s almost a smile. Warmer than Beau’s. More direct. “You want a top-up?” He nods at my coffee.
“Please.”
He pours without another word, then drops into his seat.
Beau drifts in last. Longer hair up in a bun, quieter than the others. I don’t think I’ve seen a cowboy man bun before. He gives me a nod as he passes, the same measured politeness fromlast night. He’s hard to read. “Morning,” he says to the room. To nobody in particular.
Hunter takes his place at the head of the table. Wyatt on his left. Me on his right. His brothers filling in the rest. It’s loud and messy, and someone has already spilled orange juice, and Ace is eating pancakes with his bare hands, and it’s the most at home I’ve felt in years.
Hunter reaches under the table and squeezes my knee. I put my hand on top of his.
He eats fast, the way men do when they’ve been waking before dawn their whole lives. Then he sets his fork down and looks at his brothers. “Right. Here’s the plan.”
The table goes quiet. Even Ace stops chewing. “Me, Lola, Ace, and Colten are heading into town this morning to pack up her apartment. We’re moving her and Violet’s stuff back here. Two trucks. Should be one trip if we’re smart about it.”
Colten nods.
“Beau, you’re with Wyatt today. Stables. Keep him busy, keep him happy.”
Beau glances at Wyatt, who is currently drowning a pancake in syrup. “Yeah. I can do that.”
“And after the move, we’ve got work to do. I’m calling Enzo this morning to get Drago on the case. Ace, I need you on those security feeds. Colten, keep digging through the paperwork. We’ve got ninety days, and I’m not wasting a single one.”
The brothers nod. No arguments. No questions. The machine clicks into gear.
Wyatt looks up from his syrup lake. “Is Lola staying forever?” he asks Hunter.
The table goes still.
Hunter looks at me. A slow smile spreads across his face. “That’s the plan, bud.”
Wyatt grins and goes back to his pancake. Like that’s the most normal sentence in the world.
Maybe here, it is.