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“Cried from laughter,” Dean insists. “I was laughing tears.”

“I still have the video,” I say sweetly. “And I’ll show Wade.”

Dean whips around. “Delete it and I’ll let you win at strip poker.”

“Oh my god,” Evan mutters, wiping his hands on a towel.

Wade laughs, that low belly laugh that makes my spine tingle. “You folks playin’ strip poker for real?”

“We’ve suggested it,” Dean says, setting down the spatula to wrap an arm around my waist. “But someone keeps insisting she has to feed the rest of her harem first.”

“I like that you just said that like it’s a totally normal sentence,” I say, leaning into him as Wade brushes flour off my cheek with his thumb and plants a kiss on my temple.

Evan turns the radio up a notch, maybe to drown us out.

Which is how we catch it.

“…all non-essential travel is now banned. Local authorities are urging citizens to shelter in place. Multiple treatment centers have been overrun. If you are not already in a safe location, it is advised you remain where you are and do not attempt to flee populated areas…”

The kitchen quiets.

Just for a second.

Dean’s hand stills on my waist. Wade looks over at me, jaw ticking slightly. Evan doesn’t move, but I can see the tension in his shoulders.

I take a slow breath. “Sounds like we made it home just in time.”

“Damn right we did,” Wade murmurs.

“We’re safe,” I say, firmer now. “The place is locked up. We have supplies, water, power, and a fully stocked farm. We’re going to be okay.”

Dean kisses my shoulder. “Hell yeah we are.”

“You built a fortress,” Evan says quietly. “And filled it with experts.”

And God, that does something to me.

I blink fast. Turn back to the table. “Okay. Back to biscuits. Someone has to feed Brock and Holden before Dean tries to play strip poker with Wade.”

Wade snorts. “I wouldn’t bet against me. I’m real good at poker.”

Dean eyes him. “Do not make me fall in love with you faster than I already am.”

Wade winks. “Too late.”

Evan keeps chopping. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

I beam. Because these are my idiots.

And if that news report reaches Holden and Brock? If they hear that staying here is the only safe option now?

They’ll come around.

And if not… well, I’ll just keep feeding them.

No one can resist my biscuits forever.

We’re halfway through slicing tomatoes for tonight’s Very Important Apocalypse Dinner when Dean says, like it’s the most normal thing in the world, “You know what we should do?”