Atticus stared through the Volvo’s window at the resort-sized home where he’d grown up. He felt velcroed to the spot. Bringing Jericho in there changed everything, whether he admitted it or not. Once he met the family, it was real. They would know that Atticus had been lying to himself and to them forever. They would know there was somebody who seemingly cared for him—about him. He was weirdly protective of it. He didn’t want his brothers to ruin it for him…and they would. Because he’d spent years ruining things for them, whether he meant to or not.
“We don’t have to do this,” Jericho reminded him. “We can just go back to my place and I can use my guys. Arsen is no Calliope, but he’s pretty good at finding the information we need.”
“Of course, you have a guy named Arson on your crew.”
Jericho snickered. “Arsen, as in Arseny. Not Arson, as in the intentional setting of fires.”
A reluctant laugh left Atticus, but the sound died quickly. “No. Let’s just do this. They were bound to meet you anyway eventually.”
Jericho followed Atticus from the vehicle, catching his hand in his. “You could make it sound less like a root canal, Freckles.”
“Once you’ve met my family, you’ll understand.”
Jericho laughed. “Understand what?”
Atticus threw open one of the double doors that made up the front entrance before looking at Jericho. “That root canals are less painful.”
Jericho blinked in surprise. Atticus tried to hurry through the place to their war room—or, as Noah referred to it, the Batcave—but it was like trying to drag a child through a toy store, with Jericho digging in his heels to look at everything as they passed. “How does nobody get lost in this place?”
Atticus glanced around, distracted. “We used to get lost in this place a lot. The house belonged to Thomas’s family. They’ve owned it for generations and it’s a really weird place. It even has hidden passages.”
“No shit?” Jericho asked, sounding a little awed. “Like the movieClue?”
Atticus frowned. “What?”
Jericho snorted. “Clue? The movie? Tim Curry?” At Atticus’s deepening frown, Jericho rolled his eyes. “I swear you were created in a lab, Freckles.”
Atticus rolled his eyes in return. “Lab created for what purpose? It’s not killing people. I suck at that.”
Jericho dragged him into a small alcove and pushed him up against the wall, gripping his chin, forcing him to meet Jericho’s unwavering gaze. “Lab created for me, Freckles.” He licked over the seam of his lips. “Just me.”
Atticus sucked in a shaky breath, his mouth opening to Jericho’s prodding as easily as his legs parted when he pressed a knee between them, his thigh applying pressure that had Atticus fighting not to grind against it.
“Oh. My. God.”
Atticus stiffened at the familiar voice of his soon to be brother-in-law.
As feared, Adam piped up next, dramatically intoning, “I need bleach. In my eyeballs. Immediately.”
Atticus sighed, turning to glower at Noah and Adam. Noah gaped at them without shame. Whereas Adam looked horrified, like he’d just watched a man get mauled by a bear.
Jericho released him, turning to face the two. “I’m Jericho.”
“Wow, you’re pretty,” Noah said, breathless enough to earn a growl from Adam. “What? I didn’t say he was prettier than you, you big baby. But I have eyes.”
“If you’d like to keep those eyes, I’d focus them back where they belong,” Adam said, gaze locked on Jericho.
Noah snorted, hopping on Adam’s back and biting his neck hard. “You’re so full of shit. Quit posturing. You look like an idiot.”
Adam huffed, catching Noah’s legs around his waist and hauling him towards the Batcave.
“I’m Noah, by the way,” Noah tossed over his shoulder. “This mannerless dick is Adam.”
Jericho smirked. “Nice to meet you.”
Adam dropped Noah to his feet just outside the door. He looked at Jericho, all traces of humor gone. “You know what you’re getting into, right?” he asked. “With the Mulvaneys, I mean? You’re literally about to enter the snake pit.”
Jericho’s smile turned rueful, giving Atticus a look that made him wish his pants were looser. “That’s alright. Turns out I’m a snake charmer.”
