“A coat?”
He tilted his head. “And maybe a hat and some gloves. It’s not too cold outside, but it’s not warm either.”
I frowned. “Outside?”
His smile widened. “We’re doing dinner a little bit differently tonight. It’s a…special occasion. We’re having a bonfire.”
A special occasion? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what that meant, but the mention of the bonfire had some of my nerves easing. A bonfire sounded casual. I could do casual.
I nodded, still giving him a look. “Graham…” I started, feeling the nervousness surge again. “Did you tell them—your family—that I’m not defending him anymore?”
My fingers curled into fists as I waited for the answer. I didn’t want anyone feeling uncomfortable tonight because of me.
His expression softened. “They know,” he murmured. “Now, go get your coat.”
I let out a breath. Stepping back from the door, I went to fetch my coat and gloves. When I came back, Graham’s eyes were sparkling.
He held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
I looked down, and cautiously, I took it. He wrapped his fingers tight around mine and pulled me from my room.
Grahamledmethroughthe back door of the house, his hand still warm around mine like he’d forgotten to let go. When we walked across the porch, I stopped dead in my tracks.
I hadn’t really seen the back of the house before—hadn’t had any reason to—but it was stunning.
The porch stretched wide, wrapping around the back of the house with plenty of space for the clusters of cozy chairs and little tables scattered across it. Warm cushions, throw blankets, and lanterns made it feel like something out of a magazine. But the part that stole my breath was what lay beyond.
The porch steps led down to a small stone patio covered by a beautiful wooden pergola. Twinkling lights were woven between the beams overhead, glowing softly in the early dusk. Farther out in the yard was a fire pit area with white stone arranged in a wide circle around a metal fire ring. Wooden chairs surrounded it, their surfaces smooth and worn from years of use.
“It’s…beautiful,” I breathed.
Graham made a soft sound beside me—half pleased, half amused. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “It kind of is. It’s been Dad’s special project for the past couple of years. He just finished the pergola this spring.”
But even the pretty lights and the fire pit weren’t the thing that tightened my chest.
It was the people.
Warner stood at the fire, stirring something that was cooking in a black cast-iron pot suspended over the flames. Two of his sons flanked him—Roman, who had his arms crossed over his chest, and another guy I didn’t recognize. He was smaller than Roman, but obviously another Ramsey brother. They all had that signature Ramsey quality to their facial features—it seemed they were all entirely too handsome.
It was a little weird, actually.
A large metal table was beneath the pergola, already set up with plates and covered dishes that Raleigh was arranging. Two women were helping her. One I recognized from the court documents as Lark Meadows. The other woman was familiar too, with short, dark hair, but I couldn’t quite place her.
Lark bounced a smiling baby on her hip, wrapped in a puffy pink snow suit. Her chubby cheeks were rosy from the cold as she babbled.
Hailey ran around the yard, singing and doing cartwheels, getting barked at by her father every time she got too close to the fire. The sun had already dipped behind the horizon, but the pergola lights and strands of bulbs draped between the almost-bare tree branches cast the whole yard in a golden, cozy glow.
For a moment, all I could do was stare.
Graham tugged on my hand, and I looked up at him. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “This is all so…nice.”
He didn’t let go of my hand as he pulled me toward the patio with a tentative smile. The cold hit me then—not a bitter chill like it had been the day before, but still sharp enough that I was grateful for my gloves.
When we neared the large table, Raleigh let out a delighted squeal.
“Oh, Quinn, I’m so glad you’re joining us tonight!”
