His embrace tightened. “I know. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
“You can’t promise that,” she breathed against his neck. “You haven’t faced off with him. He’s powerful. He gets his way.”
“Not this time.” He urged her back and touched her cheek. “He’s not getting you back. If I have to die to make sure??—”
“No!” Brighton choked a sob. “Don’t say that. Please. I’m not worth it.”
He grunted and frowned. “Tizzy, you’re worth way more.” He wanted to seal that with a kiss but?—
She leaned in and kissed him. Faltered, but then caught his mouth again.
Man, she undid his willpower.
“Woo-hoo! What’s is this? My big bro hot and heavy with a pretty?”
Stone groaned again. “Canyon.”
Face hot, Brighton winced away as Stone straightened to his six-two height and hugged the man who strode into the cabin as if he owned it.
Brothers.
After backs were slapped, they parted and that’s when Brighton saw a black man standing at the door. As big as the door. Hands clasped in front of him. Who …? Feeling outnumbered and uncertain, she started for the guest room that was hers. But Stone caught her hand and drew her to his side. “Brighton, this is my brother Canyon.” Then he indicated to the larger man. “And that’s longtime family friend, Griffin Riddell.”
Canyon smirked?—good grief, do all the Metcalfes do that??—and extended his hand. “Ma’am.”
She accepted it and nodded. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” She then shook Griffin’s hand. “Hi.”
“Well, I learned a long time ago not to trust anything my brother says when there’s a football game on or a beautiful woman in the room.”
Brighton eyed Stone. “Were there a lot of beautiful women?”
Canyon laughed. “We’re Metcalfes. Of course there were.”
“Easy,” Stone said gruffly. “Don’t scare her off.” His hand slid around her waist in a surprising show of both affection and ownership. Which didn’t upset her somehow. “Canyon’s good with smooth talk.”
“And blood and guts,” Griffin added.
“Canyon’s a combat medic,” Stone said around a laugh.
“But baby girl,” Griffin continued, “don’t let either of these two sweet talk you. Make them earn their keep. Just smile and bat those eyes and you’ll have them begging. Trust me, they’re Metcalfes.”
“Hey, I’m a happily married man now,” Canyon said. He pointed to his buddy. “Make sure you tell Roark that when you tell her about this, because we all know you’ll rat me out.”
“Just keeping you in line, Midas.”
Brighton had no idea what to say. She felt outnumbered?—and yet, she’d never felt safer because these three men felt like six.
“Mercy!” the jovial voice of Mrs. Clara pushed into the room. “What is this? A Nightshade reunion? I feel the need to pull out my barbecue skills before the rest of the team gets here.”
Nightshade?
Stone hovered close and nodded to the others. “Canyon and Griffin were?—”
“Are,” Canyon interjected.
“—part of a paramilitary team called Nightshade.”
Paramilitary. She eyed the two men. “Are … are the … others coming?”
