“I need to talk to my family.”I brush the hair from her face.
“At five in the morning?”
“Yeah.”
Frankie often works early, and I need to raise the alarms before she heads to the hospital.
Dove’s eyes, glazed with sleep, darken with worry.And doubt.
“Hey.”I cup her face, my thumb roving her cheek.“You’re not alone.Not anymore.I swear to you, whatever this is between us, I’m in.You don’t have to trust the world.Just trust me.And sleep.I’ll be back before you know it.”
She nods, but her hand catches mine as I stand.She doesn’t grip, just holds, reminding me she exists.
I press a kiss to her knuckles and slip free.It’s not easy.But keeping her safe means staying proactive.So I force my ass out of the room, out of the guest house, and into the pre-dawn morning.
Tugging up my hood, I make my way through the trees.My boots squish against the soft earth still damp from last night’s rain.The house looms ahead, the massive stone monster that shouldn’t feel like home.
But my brothers live there.And my father.And my Frankie, who’s carrying my favorite future sister or brother.Technically, the baby will be my cousin since Monty had a vasectomy.
Who cares?If it’s all the same to them, I want to be a big brother and call this island home.
Out back, under the wide awning of the porch, I spot them.
Leo, Kody, and Monty lounge on the outdoor sectional, wrapped in fleece and hoodie layers, hands curled around steaming mugs, staring at the flames flickering from the fire table.
A carafe of coffee waits on the sideboard, surrounded by a butcher block tray stacked with breakfast sandwiches, halved bagels, and foil-wrapped egg burritos.Probably Kody’s doing.
The bear with eyes as black as soot is the first to glance my way, lifting his chin in a silentYou good?gesture.
Oblivious, Leo laughs with a mouthful of food, muffling whatever joke Monty made.
Monty leans back like a king, a mug in one hand, his other resting comfortably on the back of Leo’s seat.
They’re not touching exactly, but the space between them is nonexistent.Legs brushing.Shoulders bumping.A shared language in every shift of their weight, every glance.
Leo’s foot nudges Monty’s absently as he reaches for another burrito.Kody tears his in half to share.Like they’ve done this a hundred times.Maybe they have.
Feels like I’m intruding on something sacred.
“There he is.”Leo finally clocks me with a crooked tilt of his mouth.“Were your ears burning?”
“Only the important ones.”I sit on the porch steps, not too close but not too far either.
“She settling in okay?”Monty sips his coffee.
“Right now, she’s just trying to breathe.”
They all share looks, knowing exactly how those first breaths feel after drowning.But underneath their empathy, there’s a cautious undercurrent between them.Uncertainty about their new house guest.
“Where’s Frankie?”I glance over my shoulder into the dark kitchen.
“Late night at the hospital.”Leo chomps on his burrito, talking with his mouth full.“We’re letting her sleep.”
“No morning sex?”Eyes bulging, I bite my knuckles.“Oh, no.”
He flips me off without looking up from his second favorite thing in the world.Food.
They’re strange.All three of them.Beautiful and strange.They don’t talk about it, what it means to share her, what it feels like, but it’s there in every glance, every casual touch.The way Leo leans his head against Monty’s shoulder for half a second before reaching for more coffee.The way Kody’s knuckles brush Leo’s thigh as he grabs a napkin.The way Monty looks at both of them with something between pride and possession.
