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“You’re the best, right?” she snapped. “That’s why you and Viper are here.”
“He is,” Greyson confirmed.
“Then he better be within arm’s reach of Tillie and Beau every waking fuckingseconduntil this is under control.”
Greyson’s gaze flicked to Alice. She nodded. Then he turned to Jax, who dipped his chin.
Leighton tracked the entire exchange with a predator’s focus.
“Good. We have an understanding. I’m going to tuck the kids in and make sure they’re safe. And if I seeone moreblack fucking sedan on this goddamn street, I will not be held liable for my actions.”
And with that, she glared the mountain of a man away from the door and marched through it like she was going to war.
“Well,” Jax sighed, flicking his eyes toward Greyson, who was rubbing at his temples like he could massage the migraine out of existence. “That went well.”
“You’re lucky she didn’t clock you,” I muttered, dragging in a breath as I gathered the courage to follow her.
“I saidevery waking moment,” she barked from the hallway. “That meansnow, Reynolds. Ollie, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
“You weren’t kidding,” Jax grumbled, amusement glinting in his eyes as he glanced sidelong at my brother. “She’s feral.”
“And all fucking mine,” I said with a terrified, relieved chuckle, before following the warpath she left behind.
Leighton
It tookevery ounce of my composure to hold it together long enough for our nightly routine. Teeth brushed, hair combed, stories read, songs sung—all while I bit back tears at the unfathomable truth: they’d been in danger this whole time, and no one had bothered to tell me.
I grew up in Alaska, for fuck’s sake. I hadfiveolder brothers and more cousins than I could count—one of whom was the town sheriff—all of whom made damn sure I could load and fire a .45 with bear-dropping accuracy. Everyone in Mistyvale was versed in firearms and bear spray. Hiking without them was a suicide mission. I had a mean swing with a metal bat and nothing—nothing—on this earth would stop me from protecting these precious little people.
Precious little people who’d healed my entire soul when they asked me to be their Mommy.
Mine.
That’s all I could think as I brushed Beau’s curls off his forehead while his eyes drifted closed. They were mine. And someone had gotten close enough to study them—photograph them. Talkto Beau.
That knowledge made my bones rattle and my brain buzz inside my skull, even as his breathing evened into sleep.
By the time I slipped out, Ollie was waiting in the hallway, still in his work clothes. His tie hung loose, hair disheveled in the way only the worst days left it. I marched past without a word, into our bedroom, sensing him trailing close behind. The latch clicked closed. I yanked my shirt over my head and launched it at him, whirling around with a scowl carved into my face.
“So. Turns out you and I have very different definitions of what being on a team means, Oliver Hart.”
“Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“You should be.” I unclasped my bra in one practiced motion, freeing my heavy breasts—and watching his mouth part, and eyes flare.
“Wha—what… what are you doing?”
“Fighting naked. Care to join me?”
“…What?”
“Welp. Mom said when all else fails and I wanna scram like the Kool-Aid man, her best advice is to fight naked.”
“Um.” He swallowed hard, eyes locked on my hands as I slid my leggings over my belly and kicked them aside. After a long pause—probably brought on by tit-induced paralysis—he dropped my shirt, whichhadto physically hurt him, and stripped.
Goddamn. Mom was onto something.
Hard to stay mad when you’re both standing bare, stripped to your full, vulnerable selves.