Before I could prepare for it, she wrapped me in a big hug. She smelled like something floral, and fire smoke. My body stiffened automatically, rebelling against the sudden comfort of Raleigh’s warmth. But Raleigh didn’t let go. She held on until my muscles finally relaxed a fraction.
When she pulled away, she was smiling wide. “You picked a fun dinner to come to.”
She gestured toward the fire. “Warner made his famous beef and vegetable stew. I know it’s a little cold, but once we get around the fire, you’ll be nice and toasty. There’s also coffee and hot chocolate.”
She pointed to a smaller table near the porch steps. It looked like a hot chocolate and s’mores bar straight out of a curated social media post. Two large thermos carafes sat in the middle—one labeled COFFEE, the other HOT CHOCOLATE. Paper cups with sleeves sat neatly next to them, surrounded by platters filled with marshmallows in different sizes, chocolate in multiple forms, and graham crackers of different flavors. She even had peppermint sticks.
“The hot chocolate is my personal favorite,” Graham whispered, lips almost brushing my ear. “It’s Mom’s special recipe and it’s—delicious.”
I suppressed a shiver as goose bumps prickled down my arms.
Without even thinking about it, I stepped closer into Graham’s side as a man with dark blond hair and muscles almost as big as Roman’s approached us. He held the hand of a woman with bright-auburn hair.
My stomach flipped. I knew exactly who she was.
Emersyn Hawthorn. The true crime podcaster.
My heart squeezed. Emersyn had been on the witness list. I knew everything she’d been through, everything she’d survived, and I had no idea how she was going to react to seeing me.
A crushing weight pressed down on me at the memory that I was fired from the job I loved, but I shoved that devastation away as the couple finally reached us.
The man grinned at Graham. “We made it,” he said proudly.
Graham chuckled. “Good.” His eyes bounced to Emersyn. “It’s good to see you, Em.”
Emersyn smiled, though it looked a little cautious. “You too.”
The man’s gaze darted to me. “You gonna introduce us to your friend?”
Graham pushed a stray curl off his forehead as he turned fully toward me. “This is my brother, August,” he explained. “He was the original founder of Hearthstone Security. And this is his wife, Emersyn.”
“Hey.” I tried to sound more confident than I felt. “I’m Quinn.”
August’s expression softened as he looked between Graham and me in a way that made me slightly uncomfortable—like he knew something we didn’t.
“Nice to officially meet you,” he finally said. “Welcome.”
Emersyn nodded, and her small smile eased some of my tension. “I know the whole giant cast-iron cauldron over the fire looks sketchy, but Warner makes an amazing stew. You won’t regret coming.”
Graham and I stood off to the side as everyone started to mingle. He whispered quiet introductions to all his brothers, and I was extremely grateful he wasn’t dragging me around to meet them all face-to-face. I was feeling very overwhelmed. I’d never been in this position before, where I actually…wanted to be liked.
I’d spent my entire life hardening myself to others’ opinions of me. When my brother was first arrested, it was agonizing—the way people would look at me. The whispers I’d hear not only about myself, but about him. How our entire family was “sick in the head.” I’d had to learn not to care, not to let it bother me.
But I wanted these people to see me in a light that wasn’t tainted, and I didn’t know how to handle it.
Graham drew in close to me, resting a hand on the small of my back, grounding me and my thoughts as he continued explaining who everyone was. It was Fox who stood with Warner and Roman by the stew simmering over the fire. His fiancée was Skye Adler, who’d been the woman with the shorter, dark hair. I realized why I recognized her; she was an investigative journalist I’d seen a few times on TV.
The youngest brother was Reid, and he stood by his wife, Lark.
As Graham was introducing their baby—Thea Grace—Warner shouted, “Soup’s ready!”
I watched anxiously as Warner, Fox, and Roman managed to move the giant cast-iron off the direct flame and to the side. Raleigh jaunted over with a smaller soup pot and a ladle.
Raleigh set the pot steaming with stew in the middle of the gorgeously decorated table. “Come on, everyone,” she called. “Time to eat!”
When the table was cleared and stomachs were full, everyone drifted toward the bonfire. The lights strung above our heads made everything feel warmer than it really was. Raleigh and Lark were roasting marshmallows, laughing at some joke I’d missed. Reid was curled up with a sleeping Thea Grace in his lap, the two of them tucked under a flannel blanket. He looked like he was minutes away from falling asleep himself.
I sat forward in my chair, leaning toward the fire with a cup of hot chocolate wrapped in my gloved hands. Graham was beside me, one leg crossed over the other as he lifted his own cup to his lips. He’d been right—the hot chocolate was to die for. I’d almost gone for the coffee, out of habit, but the hot chocolate was the perfect dessert. Rich and creamy, but not too sweet. I savored every sip.
