"Nobody does.That's the secret they don't tell you about parenting.You just love them and show up and hope for the best."
The casual way he talks about parenting makes my chest flutter with dangerous thoughts.Thoughts about what it would be like to have his steady presence in all of this.To have someone to share the midnight fevers and homework battles and teenage heartbreaks.
To have someone who looks at me the way he's looking at me right now, like I'm something precious and strong and worthy of admiration.
"Evangeline," he starts, and there's something in his voice that makes my pulse quicken.
"Where do you want the bookshelf?"Tempest's voice cuts through whatever moment was building between us, and I step back quickly, putting distance between myself and the temptation Hades represents.
"Living room," I say, grateful for the interruption and hating myself for it at the same time.
We spend the next hour unpacking boxes, hanging pictures, trying to make this house feel like home for seven people instead of one.Hades works with quiet efficiency, seeming to understand exactly what needs to be done without being asked.He's already childproofed the cabinets, installed nightlights in all the hallways, and somehow found bedroom furniture that matches each child's personality perfectly.
When he reaches up to hang a family photo above the fireplace, one of the last pictures of Marcus, Calla, and all five kids together, his shirt rides up, exposing a strip of tanned skin and the kind of muscle definition that comes from years of physical work.My mouth goes dry.I force myself to look away.I just ended an engagement.I shouldn’t be thinking about his abs.My brother's funeral was yesterday.The last thing I should be doing is ogling another man's body like some kind of sex-starved teenager.
But I can't seem to help myself.There's something about Hades that draws me like a magnet, something that makes every rational thought scatter the moment he walks into a room.
"That straight?"he asks, adjusting the family photo.
"It's perfect," I say, and I'm not just talking about the picture placement.
Our eyes meet, and for a moment the air between us goes electric.Like we're the only two people in the world, like all the reasons this is complicated and wrong and impossible don't matter.
Jake comes racing through the living room chasing Sophie, both of them shrieking with laughter, and the spell is broken.
"No running in the house," I call out automatically, sounding more like their mother than I have any right to.
"Sorry, Aunt Evie," they chorus, but they're both grinning, and it's the first genuine happiness I've seen from either of them since their parents died.
"They're good kids," Hades says quietly.
"The best.Calla and Marcus did an amazing job with them."
"Yeah.They did."
There's something in his voice, a note of sadness that makes me look at him more closely.He's watching the children with an expression I can't quite read, but it makes something soft and warm unfurl in my chest.
"You miss her," I say.It's not a question.
"Every day.She was the only family I had left until..."He gestures toward the chaos of children and moving boxes."Until now."
The simple statement hits me harder than it should.The idea that he considers me family, that he sees this makeshift household as something real and permanent...My gut flips.I catch myself wondering things I shouldn’t.
Before I can figure out how to respond, my phone buzzes with a text.
Ethan:
This living arrangement is ridiculous.You need to find somewhere appropriate to live.I'm coming over.
The message makes my stomach clench with familiar anxiety.Even though we're broken up, even though I gave him back his ring, he's still trying to control my decisions.
"Problem?"Hades asks, noticing my expression.
"Ethan.He's not happy about us living here."
"Us living here?"
"Me and the kids.Living in your home.He thinks it's...inappropriate."
