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“Did…did you just take my mugshot?” Julian asks, almost horrified.

“Obviously.” I open the Notes app on my phone. “You’re officially going in my Stranger Danger Files.”

“She keeps a diary,” Wes explains.

Julian’s looking at me like I’ve grown another head at this point. “She keeps…a diary?”

I hold it up. “Stranger Danger Files. A comprehensive list of people authorized to interact with Rosie without risking head trauma. So far, it’s a very short list.”

Julian steps closer and peers over my shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Am I at least under consideration now?”

“Under probation,” I correct. “But watch yourself, or you’re back on the frying pan hit-list.”

Rosie, clearly sensing the tension, reaches up and tugs Julian’s tie. He glances down as she tries to put it in her mouth.

“Rosie, please,” he drawls. “You need to stop trying to eat me eventually.”

Wes pries her from his arms. “Congratulations. Your tie just became a teething ring.”

Returning to my pot, I scoop pasta, meatballs, and sauce onto a plate before thrusting it toward Julian.

“What’s this?” he asks warily.

“Apology pasta. For almost knocking youunconscious.”

He takes it slowly, inspecting it like it might bite him. “Did you spit in it?”

I stare him down, unblinking. “No, but I can if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Even Wes chokes now. “Jesus Christ, Lena.”

Julian grins, clearly enjoying this. “I like you.”

“I’m still not sure about you.”

He shrugs, already pulling out a stool. He takes a bite, chewing as he leans forward on his elbows. “So, how come Wes never introduced us? You’ve been around a while.”

I shoot Wes a curious look. “Yeah, Wesley. Why haven’t I heard about Julian before?”

He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose like we’re giving him a headache. “Trust me, it was for your own good.”

Julian winks at me shamelessly. “I thought I was the only one to call him by his given name.”

“Want a medal?”

He barks a laugh, looking far too pleased. “Keep speaking to me like that, Lena, and I might go and fall in love with you.”

The smile that curves on my mouth is stupidly big.

He’s charming. Dangerous, but charming.

“Truth is,” he says, mouth still half-full, “Wes keeps the pretty boys hidden away. Afraid of competition.”

I glance between them, amused by the sudden tension crackling in the air.

“How long have you two known each other?”

“Too long,” Wes answers first.