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I grabbed for my discarded shirt so fast I nearly tripped over Storm. The brothers steadied me automatically, their hands lingering longer than necessary. “We were just?—”

“Just finishing up,” Derek said smoothly, though his voice still had that gravelly edge that made my skin tingle.

“Mm-hmm.” Maria’s knowing look made me want to crawl under the weight bench. “Well, lunch is ready. Though perhaps some cold showers first, yes?”

“Maria!” I spluttered.

“What? It’s very hot in here.” Her innocent expression wouldn’t have fooled a kindergartener. “Jorge made his special paella. Don’t let it get cold while you’re all… observing form.”

She disappeared down the hall, her laughter echoing behind her.

“I’m going to die,” I announced to no one in particular. “Right here in this gym. Of embarrassment.”

“You’re doing no such thing,” Marcus said, finally seemingly regaining his composure. “You’re going to shower, eat lunch, and then we’re discussing security arrangements for this weekend.”

Right. The weekend. When Luke and his ritual-wielding mother were coming to visit, just in time for the Cedar Grove Harvest Festival. Perfect timing.

The hot shower felt amazing after the intense workout, washing away the sweat if not the memory of the brothers’ heated stares. I dressed quickly in black jeans and a soft blue t-shirt that may or may not have been chosen because Marcus had once mentioned liking the color on me, then headed downstairs for lunch.

The dining room smelled like Jorge’s special paella and Maria’s fresh-baked bread. My stomach growled loud enough to make Storm’s ears perk up from his spot by the fireplace.

“Finally!” Jorge emerged from the kitchen, wielding a wooden spoon like a weapon. “Before it gets cold!”

I slid into my usual seat—the brothers had somehow arranged it so I was always within arm’s reach of at least two of them at any given time. The tension from the gym still simmered beneath the surface, especially when Marcus’ hand found my knee under the table.

“So,” Maria said, serving the paella with a knowing smirk, “Luke and his mother arrive Saturday morning, yes? Just in time for the festival?”

“Yeah.” I tried to focus on the food and not how Marcus’ thumb was drawing circles on my leg. “Luke says they’re already packed with, uh, supplies.”

Jorge perked up. “The special herbs she mentioned? And the Korean chili paste?”

“And the ritual bells,” I muttered. “So many bells.”

“Bells are good!” Maria insisted. “Very cleansing. We should discuss where to set up her ritual space. Away from Derek’s security routes.”

Derek finally looked up from where he’d been very intently studying his water glass. “I’ll adjust the patrols. Though my team needs to know which areas will be… spiritually active.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” I couldn’t help asking. “Because from what Luke tells me, Imo’s been video chatting with both of you”—I pointed at Maria and Jorge—“almost daily about food and protection spells.”

Jorge had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. “She had questions about Spanish cuisine! And maybe I had questions about Korean methods of spiritual cleansing. For the kitchen.”

“The kitchen doesn’t need spiritual cleansing.”

“Everything needs spiritual cleansing,” Maria and Jorge said in perfect unison.

Caleb, who’d been suspiciously quiet, grinned. “They’ve been practicing that all week.”

I dropped my head into my hands. “You’re all impossible.”

“We just want your family to feel welcome,” Marcus said diplomatically, though his hand was definitely moving higher on my thigh. “The festival is an important tradition in Cedar Grove.”

“Speaking of traditions,” Derek cut in, his voice still rough from earlier, “we should discuss security arrangements for the festival itself. With the Knox Pack still causing trouble?—”

“And other packs attending,” Caleb added.

“—we need to make sure you’re protected during the celebrations.”

I pushed my empty plate away, already missing Jorge’s paella. “You mean babysat.”