“Former unit.” His mouth twitches. “Just Saint and Tex. The guys would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t bring you.”
My stomach does a complicated flip. Hewantedto bring me.
I should be used to this by now, to the way Tank includes me, like there was never any question that I belonged in his world.
The truck rolls to a stop, and two women on the porch catch my attention, watching our approach with undisguised curiosity. Jane, curvy and blonde, practically bouncing on her heels. Sadie, dark-haired, calmer, with a quiet smile that makes you feel like everything’s going to be okay.
“Jane and Sadie,” I murmur.
“They’ve been asking about you.” He cuts the engine and turns to look at me, something soft in those steady eyes. “Fair warning—Jane has no volume control. But she means well.”
“Noted.”
“And the guys are going to give me shit. That’s just what they do.”
“Also noted.” I take a breath. “Anything else I should know?”
“Yeah.” He leans over, presses a quick kiss to my temple that makes my whole body warm. “They’re going to love you. Because I do.”
He’s out of the truck before I can process those words.
Because I do.
Did he just?—?
Jane is already coming down the porch steps, all wild blonde curls and cowboy boots, whiskey sloshing dangerously in her glass.
“Finally! I've beendyingto meet you properly. We smiled at each other backstage but then everything got crazy and—” Shepulls me into a hug that smells like vanilla and expensive whiskey before I’ve fully closed the truck door. “I’m Jane. We were auctioned off the same night! Well, not together-together, but you know what I mean.”
“I remember.” I’m laughing despite myself. “You were after me, right? The crowd went insane.”
“Tex almost dislocated his shoulder with that paddle.” Jane releases me, beaming. “God, you’re even prettier up close.”
“Jane.” Tank rounds the truck, his voice carrying the long-suffering tone of a man who’s had this conversation before. “Thirty seconds. I asked for thirty seconds.”
“You asked. I declined.” She loops her arm through mine as if we’ve been friends for years. “Come on, you need wine and a front-row seat.”
Sadie is waiting on the porch steps, extending her hand with a warm smile. “I’m Sadie. Last-minute addition to the auction lineup.”
“I remember.” Her hand is warm in mine, her grip gentle but sure. “How’s country life treating you?”
“Better than I expected.” Her eyes crinkle. “These cowboys and mountain men grow on you.”
“Like moss,” Jane adds cheerfully. “Or fungus. Adorable, overprotective fungus.”
Tank grunts, which seems to be his default response to accurate observations.
Inside, warmth hits me immediately, along with the aroma of garlic and something sweet baking in the back. The main roomis open and lived-in. Worn leather couches face a stone fireplace, a long wooden table is already set for dinner, and photographs line the mantel. The whole place smells like home in a way that makes my chest ache.
And themen.
They fill the space the way mountains fill a horizon, impossible to ignore, and utterly unselfconscious about the room they take up. Two of them are squared off near the stove, engaged in what appears to be a heated debate involving tongs.
“Medium-well is not a preference, it's a cry for help,” the tall, rangy one is saying, his Southern drawl as thick as honey.
“It’s how she likes it.” The quieter one with thoughtful eyes and a calm presence doesn't rise to the bait. “Therefore, it’s correct.”
“Saint, brother, I say this with love: you’re enabling beef abuse.”
