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And if we manage to grab the other two before society finishes crumbling, well. I’ll cross that bridge when I handcuff them to a bed.

By the time Evan shuffles out, Dean’s already seated, beer in hand, slouched back like he owns the place.

He doesn’t look at Evan like he’s a threat. Doesn’t puff up his chest or posture.

He grins and jerks his chin. “Hey, man. You look less kidnapped than I expected.”

Evan gives me a look, but then, miracle of miracles, he sits.

Dean grabs the serving spoon, loads Evan’s plate without asking. “Eat up. Your girl can cook.”

“Your girl?” Evan mutters, a brow raised.

“Oh honey,” I purr, sinking into my chair and beaming at both of them. “I’m everyone’s girl.”

Dean winks.

Evan sighs, but he takes a bite. And then another. “I’m just saying,” Evan says after a moment, pointing his fork at Dean, “How the hell did you end up as teacher’s pet? I was here first.”

Dean doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m hotter. And I knew where the pepper went.”

“Also,” I add brightly, “He rearranged my pantry by calorie density and potential spoilage timelines. And then he absolutely rearranged me.”

Evan chokes on his bite of chicken.

I pat his back affectionately.

Dean just laughs and lifts his glass to me. “To end-of-the-world efficiency.”

I clink mine against his. “And new family traditions.”

It’s bliss. It’s dinner. It’s unholy harmony.

I watch them eat, Evan still a little cautious, Dean completely at ease, and I feel this warm, melting heat in my chest. Like maybe the world falling apart was the best thing that ever happened to me.

And maybe, just maybe, if I’m very good and they’re very obedient, one day soon I’ll get to bend over this table and have both of them behind me. Dean’s mouth on my neck, Evan’s hands on my hips, and everything finally exactly as it should be.

I hum around my next bite of chicken.

And soon?

Brock will be here too.

Chapter Ten

Maple

Evan looked disappointed when I locked him back in, but honestly, I’m just not sure he’ll behave, even with the official shelter-in-place orders buzzing across every emergency broadcast channel like a final lullaby.

Besides, he’ll feel better when Brock’s here.

They all will.

I park us a few dozen yards out from Brock’s cabin. Hidden well enough that no one’s likely to spot Dean standing watch, even if some neighbor with a drone is being nosy.

I smooth my shirt, give Dean a quick wink. “Stay right here. I’ll poke my head out when I’m ready for you to bring the bags.”

He grins like I’ve just handed him a shotgun and a six-pack. “You got it, baby.”