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I didn’t have the energy to talk to her right now, especially after our last conversation. “Nothing important,” I said to Dylan as I rejected the call.

Cassidy gave me a knowing look. I pressed my lips together, then plastered a smile back on my face. Dylan had been through enough. He didn’t need to be reminded of his messed-up grandmother, too.

“So what’s the plan for this evening?” Hawk asked. “You two have been cooped up in here for a while.”

“Well, not all of us can go for a nice little flight whenever we want to,” Cassidy said. “You dragons have it made.”

“Hey, say the word and you can go out with me,” Striker said. “I’ll carry you wherever you want to go.”

“Really? Because I’ve been thinking of taking a vacation in California…”

Striker blanched, and Hawk and I burst out laughing.

“Listen, how about you come to the clubhouse tonight?” Hawk said. “We’re having a chill night in, but a lot of the clan should be there.”

“I don’t know.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Last time I showed up at one of those parties, I didn’t really like what I saw.”

“I know, which is why you should come,” Hawk said. “I want you to see we’re not always like that. Honestly, we’rerarelylike that.”

“Yeah, that party was kind of like reverting to high school,” Striker admitted. “We didn’t realize exactly how well that Night Shift booze would work.”

“And now you do?” Cassidy said with a smirk.

Hawk grinned. “Yep. Now we know exactly how many shots it takes to get Striker dancing on the tables.”

“Mom, can I try shots?” Dylan asked.

“Oh my god.” I laughed. “No one’s doing any shots. Come on, help me clean up the kitchen.”

As if right on cue, Steph stepped into the house. He looked tired but handsome as ever in a grease-stained white tank top and paint-stained jeans. “Any chance of leftovers?” he asked.

“Dad!” Dylan rushed out of the kitchen, chores forgotten, and barreled into Steph.

Steph wrapped his arms around him, then ruffled his hair fondly. “Morning, kiddo. Don’t think you’re getting away with skipping the dishes.” He led Dylan into the kitchen, then grabbed me by the waist and pulled me in for a brief kiss. “Hey, you.”

“Hi. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just checking in on things at the shop.” I could tell from his tone that he wasn’t telling me everything, but I wasn’t going to press. Not right now, at least. “I’ve gotta get back, but I wanted to come by for lunch.”

“There’s plenty,” I said. “Cassidy even made her famous grits.”

Hawk and Dylan cleaned up the kitchen, while Cassidy, Striker, Steph, and I all sat around the table and caught up. For a moment, I could almost imagine we were a normal family, and that Steph had popped over between jobs at the garage,Dylan was on summer break from school, and I had nothing more important than to ponder what I wanted to eat for dinner. No alcoholic mother trying to get back in touch with me, no psycho brother-in-law trying to kidnap me and my son. Just us. Together. With the rest of our lives laid out like a road in front of us.

Much sooner than I wanted, Steph headed back to work. Striker stuck around as security detail, but Hawk headed home to Mia and Bella. As the sun began to go down, Cassidy, Dylan, and I all headed to the clubhouse, with Striker and Tank as our security detail. Even though we were only going a short distance from Steph’s home to the clubhouse, the guys insisted on the security. And for that, I was grateful. After what had happened, it felt like Sean was lurking around every corner, and the woods surrounding us were a great hideout. The rational part of my mind knew the dragons would sense him, but I was anxious and on edge.

Being around the clan would boost my mood, though. It was early enough when we arrived that it was still quiet, with just a few members shooting pool.

Usually Striker worked the bar, but tonight, an unfamiliar older woman served the drinks. She was short and stocky, with broad shoulders and cropped silver hair. Her black tank top showed all the colorful tattoos snaking down her arms to her fingers. She was buff, too, and would’ve been intimidating if not for the enormous smile she greeted us with. “You must be Harley,” she called as we strode in. “And is this Dylan, the young man I’ve heard so much about?”

“That’s me,” I said, tilting my head. “I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

“Sure haven’t,” the woman said. “Come on, take a seat. I’m Tammy. I just got back from a big-ass road trip with my sister, so I missed your grand return. Heard all about it, though.”

“Oh, God,” I winced and rubbed the back of my neck. “Hope it wasn’t too bad.”

Tammy threw her head back and laughed, the sound loud and boisterous. “Not at all. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. You want a soda, Dylan?”

“Sure,” Dylan said, a little shyly.