Page 24 of At First Flight (Coral Bell Cove #1)

“Damn, how does she do that? It’s the first time I’ve seen them smile like that since I took them to the State Fair a year ago.”

“My mom has a gift. Would you like something to drink before I throw you to the wolves?” I ask, trying to mask the nervousness in my voice as I move down the hall.

“A beer if they have one.”

We enter the open-air kitchen and living room space, and I’m not surprised to find my siblings all clamoring around the table, waiting patiently for Dean’s arrival. They’re treating him like he’s my…

“He’s not my boyfriend, guys. He’s my boss. Calm down,” I explain as I open the large fridge and reach inside for two beer bottles. I pop the top of one with ease, using the opener on the wall beside the fridge.

As I turn around, I notice my brothers haven’t adjusted their stance toward Dean, but my sister eyes him appreciatively. I cannot blame her, but even with that acceptance, a little green monster sneers from inside me.

Taking a sip from my own bottle, I walk toward Dean and hand him the other.

“Dean, these are my brothers Rowan, Crew, and Holt.” The trio barely nods as I introduce them.

I don’t miss the clench of their fingers around their arms crossed against their chests.

Rolling my eyes, I add, “And that’s Hadley.

She’s Holt’s twin. Everyone, this is Dean Harrington, and the two kids with Mom are Oliver and Evelyn. ”

“Nice to meet you,” Dean says as he holds his hand out toward Hadley, clearly understanding that my brothers aren’t going to return his greeting. “It must have been great growing up in such a large family.”

Dean slips his hand free from Hadley’s grasp, and she visibly pouts as Dean turns his eyes in my direction. His signature smirk is etched in place at my brothers’ warm welcome instead of a furrowed brow I’ve seen him wear when he’s confused.

“Anyone seen Dad?” I ask, trying to get one of my brothers to say literally anything. Their infuriating stares in our direction are becoming too much.

“He’s outside. Strawberry harvest is coming up or have you forgotten already?” Rowan, the next to oldest brother, barks. He works on the farm with my father and was my closest friend growing up. Now, it seems the distance between us isn’t just in age.

“I remember,” I snap. I’ve spent enough years on the farm helping Dad with the harvest. Hell, it’s the sole reason my first boyfriend dumped me, but also the reason I’m so passionate about my field of work.

“I planned on bringing the kids to the farm this upcoming week so they could see everything that goes on and see some of the animals.”

Thankfully, Mom chooses that moment to step over to the table, breaking the awkwardness.

“That sounds lovely, dear. Let me know which day of the week, and I can have something planned for them,” she says warmly. The kids follow her lead and place a stack of napkins and a handful of utensils on the table.

“Maybe Wednesday? Tuesday is my day off, and Ashvi and I were going to drive into town.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll have your father check the schedule.”

Rowan’s fists leave his arm and pound down on the table, startling Evelyn in the process.

The three-year-old’s lip begins to quiver, and Mom immediately moves her back toward the kitchen.

Oliver follows dutifully. I can sense Dean’s building fury toward the situation without even glancing his way. It rolls off him in waves.

“What the hell is your problem?” I bark, my hair flaring around my shoulders as I turn and give Rowen my full attention.

“I’m sorry. We’re all supposed to believe this man needs help raising those two kids.

Live-in help at that? Do you even know who he is, Lila?

That man could hire the freaking Supernanny if he wanted to.

But instead, he’s here in our little Podunk town, paying you next to nothing to live with him and raise those kids.

This entire thing seems fishy, and no one is saying anything. ”

“Rowan, that’s not at all what’s happening. And if you’d calm down, I’ll—" I say just as the boisterous sounds of my dad’s laughter fill the cavernous room. Even with Rowan’s erroneous outburst, I can’t help but mask my smile when my father enters the room.

“Ah, you must be the handsome Mr. Harrington my wife keeps talking about,” he says as he approaches Dean and holds out his hand in greeting. The kind I had hoped my boss would have received from my siblings.

Dean pulls his stare away from my insufferable brother and holds out his hand in greeting to my dad. “Please, call me Dean.”

“Everything working out with Lila and the kids?”

“Yes, she’s great with them. I’m truly thankful for the help,” Dean replies, smiling warmly.

Breaking their hold, my dad tugs me forward and wraps his arm around my shoulders in a one-armed hug. “Yeah, she gets that from Claire. Those girls could turn Chucky into an angel.”

“I don’t doubt that, sir.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’re telling me everyone is okay with this situation?” Rowan interjects. “No one else thinks this is weird?”

Narrowing my eyes at my brother, I nearly jerk away from my dad to give Rowan a piece of my mind.

Instead, my dad pipes in. “No, it’s no different from the thousands of other people your mother and her team have helped, or have you neglected to recall that this is just a job?

One your sister is good at and is doing to help your mom out. Or have you forgotten that part?”

“No, sir,” Rowan mumbles, cheeks reddening with each passing second.

“What is weird is your reaction to the situation, son.”

“I’m just…looking after my sister, that’s all,” he says as his eyes drop down to the table, then flick over to me.

Just as I’m about to speak, Dean chimes in. “I think you’re underestimating the strength and resilience of your sister. Just from the short time I’ve known her, she’d never do anything she didn’t want to do. And I do think you owe her an apology for the ambush.”

Would I? The thought twists like a blade in my chest. I spent two years in a relationship where I didn’t even recognize the man I was about to marry.

Not truly. Not the lies he spun or the secrets his family cloaked in polished smiles and bottomless glasses of champagne.

I handed them my trust and my future, all for the sake of a dream I thought I couldn’t reach on my own.

And in return, I became a pawn in their carefully constructed game, a research trophy to parade in exchange for obedience.

Even the little bit of research I’ve gathered since returning home left me bewildered.

Web results with missing URLs. Pictures that led nowhere.

All things Prescott’s parents likely had taken down.

I traded my freedom for ambition. And I didn’t even see it happening until it was too late.

But then Dean’s voice cuts through the fog in my head. Low, steady, unapologetically certain. His words aren’t wrapped in pity but laced with belief in me.

And God, it disarms me.

His encouragement isn’t flashy. It’s quiet. Anchoring. Like he sees the pieces of me I’m still trying to glue back together and isn’t afraid to hold them while I figure it out.

I feel it in the way he stands just close enough to make me feel protected but never caged. In the way he looks at me like I’m not broken. Like I’m more than just the girl who ran away in a wedding dress and a life that wasn’t mine.

And at that moment, as his words settle into my bones, something inside me breathes again. Not fully. Not loudly. But it’s a start. A reminder that maybe I’m not as lost as I think.

“Sorry, Lila,” Rowan says behind gritted teeth. He’d never been one willing to offer up an apology, even as a young child. So this one is monumental to say the least.

Whirling back into the dining area like a cyclone, Mom carries a large bowl of pasta in one hand and another of sauce, setting them on the table, while the kids each carry in a basket of bread.

“Wonderful, everyone is here,” she says, ignoring the conversation she had to have overheard. “Dinner is ready. Oliver and Evelyn, you can take the seats on either side of me if you’d like.”

Dean watches on, breath held in as he waits for the kid’s response. Up until today, the kids had been glued to his or my side. And specifically, at dinner, the kids notoriously inched their chairs as close to Dean’s as the table would allow.

“Yes, please,” Oliver says as Evelyn nods enthusiastically.

My mom guides the kids to the two seats, nudging my brothers out of the way with her hip in the process.

Once my mom sits, we join her. Dean opts to sit on the opposite side of the table from me, next to Evelyn.

Dad takes up the helm of the table, smiling at Hadley as she speaks a mile a minute about a reality show she’s been bingeing.

I’m secretly thrilled that she’s filling the silence and taking the attention away from me.

As Mom passes a basket of bread to Dean, he winks in my direction before divvying up two pieces for Evelyn and himself.

Hadley seems to have broken the awkwardness in the room because dinner is filled with a whirlwind of conversations.

Despite my brother’s trying to interrogate Dean, he holds his own.

And when asked what he does for a living, Rowan’s eyes widened in surprise.

Dean lists off so many businesses, charities, and grants he’s a part of that he comes off like a walking Renaissance Man.

Despite what Rowan thought earlier, I know Dean works hard, spending most of the day in his office and on the phone, but I’m left impressed with all the fields he invests in.

Hell, the man knows so much about each area that he sounds more like a CEO than a shareholder.

“Wow,” my dad says, shaking his head faintly. He shoves a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.

Under the table, Hadley kicks me not-so-subtly on the ankle as she leans over her plate toward Dean.