Page 101 of Oathbreaker

Thirty-One

Briar

I’m replenishing the beers in the fridge because the guys have made quite a dent in them.

And in the chocolate lasagna.

And the lemon pie.

And the wine?—

Okay, so the girls and I may have helped with the last three.

But the guys did their part too.

And based on the laughter that’s been growing in frequency and volume over the last few hours, things are going much better than I could have imagined.

I’ve still been peeking out the window every chance I get, though.

Like now too.

I smile as I see Colt and Dash holding court, their chairs on one side of the fire pit, Royal, Atlas, and Banks on the other.

Colt is saying something that has my brother cackling, Atlas tilting his head back and rolling his eyes up to the sky. Royal’s grin is smaller but there. And Banks is laughing full-out, nearly bent in half with it.

Like the old days.

Only in the past I would have been trying to horn in their time together, so ravenous for Colt’s attention that I’d play the part of annoying little sister.

Bugging them.

Intruding.

Now, though, I’m content to watch them together. To feel my heart settle, finally settle knowing the worst of the rift has been mended.

It’s still going to take time for Colt to find his place, going to take time for everyone to find their way back to, not what we had, but what we’ll have now because it’s not just the guys and me.

It’s the guys and me and Frankie and Maisie. And Aspen and Jade (and their bun in the oven) and Willow and Lily.

Our family has grown, changed.

Become so much better than I could have hoped for.

And speaking of family, one member of it loops her arm through mine and draws me away from the window.

“Come on, Peeping Tom,” Aspen teases, drawing me into the family room. “We’ve drawn firm battle lines between the men and women.”

“Come and sit by me,” Mrs. X says, patting the seat cushion next to her.

I don’t argue, just plunk down beside her and give thanks she only came by for dessert, thus avoiding Dash’s asshole behavior at dinner.

And the punch he threw.

Because I watched.

Of course I did.

I may have grit my teeth and let the “boys be boys” (this meaning letting them get out their anger and frustration in the most idiotic way possible), but I watched.