‘And I’ll bring Nico,’ Avery adds, eyes sparkling. ‘If Felstead lets him out of bed by then.’
Nico’s gaydar was bang on the money. The two of them bonded beside my hospital bed, and neither of them has come up for air in the past forty-eight hours.
I laugh. Properly laugh. The first real one since the fire.
My brothers stride in next, one by one. James is first, followed by Caelon, Killian, Rian, and Sean. Tension crackles in the air. They might not like Cole, but they have to respect him. To be damned grateful to him after he risked his life to run into a burning building to save me.
Cole crosses the room to greet them graciously. He extends a hand to James first. James stares at it for a long beat, then slowly places his palm in Cole’s.
I exhale the breath I was unwittingly holding. Relief courses through my blood. Killian’s lips are pressed firmly together in a grim line. His arms crossed, as if his face might crack if he says something kind. He flanks James and nods a reluctant greeting at my boyfriend.
‘You saved her,’ James acknowledges gruffly. ‘We can never repay you for that.’
Sean nods in agreement, accepting a glass of whiskey from Magda. I have her well warned to keep the liquid lubrication flowing to avoid the initial awkwardness.
Cole drops James’s hand then turns to Caelon, who grimaces like he’s in physical pain. ‘I still think you’re a dick, and I want to kill you for impregnating my kid sister.’ His lips quirk upwards. ‘But I appreciate what you did.’
Rian steps up next. ‘Thank you,’ he says simply, holding Cole’s gaze.
Killian is last to shake Cole’s hand. ‘Thank you,’ he says solemnly. Unlike his fiancée, he never was a man of many words.
My father crosses the room and hugs me so tight it’s a struggle to breathe. ‘Thank God you’re okay.’ He kisses the top of my head.
Magda and Helen hand out more drinks. My boyfriend raises his glass in a toast. ‘To new beginnings. To family.’ His eyes drift to my stomach before meeting my eyes again. ‘To Zara. I’d do anything for her. For both of them.’ He eyes each of my brothers in turn. ‘You know that.’
And they do.
They really do.
It’s not forgiveness. Not yet.
But it’s something.
A crack in the armour.
A beginning.
A bang sounds from the hallway. I jump. It’ll take me a while to get over everything. ‘Are we expecting someone else?’ I reach for Cole’s arm.
He beams down at me. ‘Yes. I invited the Hartmanns to even out the numbers.’
‘Even Doug the douche?’ I whisper.
‘Even Doug the douche.’ He pulls a face. ‘I couldn’t fly you to Vegas, but I could fly them here.’
The Hartmanns descend on us, and oh my goodness, Cole’s mother is almost as suffocating as my own, palming my stomach, talking to her grandchild. Luke, Cole’s brother,hovers by the door uncomfortably, clutching a Coke—the drink—not a line, for once.
No one’s shouting.
I take Cole’s hand and lift it to my lips, brushing a kiss over his knuckles. He looks at me like I hung the moon.
Our family fills the house.
Our daughter kicks lightly inside me, as if sensing peace.
And Cole stands solid at my side, the sea wind drifting in through the open terrace doors, carrying the promise of something new.
Something whole.
