I nodded once, trying to communicate everything I couldn't say from this distance:They're family. Complicated, impossible family. But they're here to help.
She nodded back, trusting me even when I'd just had my entire world rewritten.
God, I loved her.
The thought hit me square in the chest, clear and undeniable. I loved her. This woman who'd inherited a broken-down inn and a year-long clause and a father who'd crawled out of prison to haunt her. This woman who made lists to feel safe and kept flashlights in every room and still managed to look at me like I was worth keeping.
I loved her.
And now I had to introduce her to my brothers—plural, expanded, more than I'd ever imagined having—while also figuring out how to keep her safe from a threat that apparentlyinvolved my dead father's secrets and an organization targeting everyone with Dane blood.
"Ready?" Ethan asked quietly.
I took a breath, squared my shoulders, and reached for the door.
"Yeah," I said. "Let's do this."
The door swung open, and Hazel stood there in my hoodie, looking small and fierce and absolutely terrified. But she held her ground, chin up, eyes moving from me to my brothers and back again.
"Hazel," I said, my voice steadier than I felt, "meet my brothers. Lucas and Ethan."
Her eyes widened slightly—surprise, maybe, or relief that these weren't enemies—but she extended her hand, ever the professional even when her world was crumbling.
"Nice to meet you," she said.
Lucas took her hand gently, his grin softening into something almost respectful. "The pleasure's ours, ma'am."
Ethan's massive hand engulfed hers next, and I saw the way his expression gentled, the way it always did around people who needed protecting. "Gideon's told us a lot about you."
"He has?" She glanced at me, confused.
"No," I admitted. "But they know you're important."
"Very important," Ethan confirmed.
Hazel's cheeks pinked, and something in my chest eased at the sight. She was okay. Shaken, but okay.
"Come inside," she said, stepping back. "Maude made enough breakfast to feed an army."
"Perfect," Lucas said, already moving past her. "I'm starving."
As we filed into the house, Elias bringing up the rear, I caught Hazel's hand and pulled her close for just a second.
"You okay?" I murmured.
"Are you?" she countered, those green eyes seeing right through me.
"Getting there," I admitted.
She squeezed my hand. "Then, so am I."
And somehow, with my brothers filling the foyer and Maude already fussing over feeding them in the kitchen, with Hazel's hand in mine and her trust in her eyes?—
Somehow, I believed it.
22
HAZEL
