He stares at me.
I keep going.
“She’s Ollie’s go-to for the latest comics and Connor’s supplier for aftershave. Which is impressive, considering he’s got maybe five chin hairs to his name. And Snooki?” I huff. “Snooki no longer trusts me with her hair. At all.” I hold his gaze. “So, when I say I didn’t plan for this, trust me, I did not plan for this.”
“Your kids seem pretty attached,” he says quietly.
“Attached?” I give a wry huff. “Try adoption. They’ve adopted her.”
He steps closer, squares up to me, and looks me dead in the eye. “Do you love her?”
Fuck.
I don’t even know how to answer that. I could reach for something polished. Say the right thing. Do that acting thing Pix makes look effortless.
But I don’t want to.
I tell him the truth. At least as much of the truth as I actually possess.
“Your sister is the most incredible woman I know,” I say quietly. “Any man would be a fool not to love her.”
From where he’s standing, I know he could drop me with one clean shot. And if he did, I’d take it.
Instead, he exhales.
Then he pulls me into a hug. Solid and brotherly and brutal. And for the first time since I walked into this room, my chest loosens enough to breathe.
He holds out a hand. “You better take care of her. Or I’ll make you dig your own grave before I bury you in it.”
Two hard pats to my back.
“I will,” I say. “And stop threatening me with manual labor.”
We both chuckle, and he playfully punches my gut. “And at least you’re not that prick, Pierce Maddox.”
I let out a breathy laugh. “Could you set the bar a little lower?”
With that, he grabs a bottle of scotch from the wall, pulls down two glasses, and pours.
We clink.
“Welcome to the family, hermano.”
The burn hits on the way down, knocking something loose in my chest.
The realization of exactly what’s at stake.
Her.
I can feel the happiness resting in the palms of my hands, and part of me is already willing to break before I ever let it go.
Gabe pulls something from his pocket and presses it into my hand. “By express courier.”
I glance down and nod once. “Pix’s new phone. The latest upgrade?”
“Locked and loaded.”
Good. At least she’s not leaving New York empty-handed.
