And then theirs his nose. Slightly crooked. Imperfect. Humanizing. He mentioned during dinner that Lawson broke it when they were younger, and Jasper just laughed and said,“You deserved to get your shit rocked. You don’t steal another man’s girl.”
Lincoln just grumbled something about being kids and shoved another forkful of his dinner into his mouth.
He clears his throat beside me, catching me staring at him, and his eyes soften for a moment. “You okay?”
Now it’s me who blushes as heat washes over my face. “Yeah. Just… taking everything in.”
A hint of a smile pulls at his mouth, just to one side. Slow and oh so devastating. “Good. That’s the point of the tour.”
Yeah. He knows good and well how hot he is. They all do.
He doesn’t take me upstairs, and instead we circle back into the kitchen, where the other three men are still cleaning up dinner. The kitchen is as beautiful as the rest of the house. Dark cabinetry, stone countertops, and black metal fixtures work well with the rustic space, especially the huge farmhouse table. Lincoln sees me admiring it. “Beautiful, isn’t it? There’s been a lot of memories made around that table. I think we’ll be using it until it collapses.”
Jasper looks up from where he’s drying a pan. “It’ll outlive us all. That thing will seat our grandkids, I’m telling you.”
I think to myself, what a bold statement that is, considering there are four men who live together without so much as a single girlfriend to be seen.
Which I don’t understand how that’s possible, considering these are four of the hottest men I’ve ever seen, but what the hell do I know?
“So,” Lincoln says, “what’s the verdict so far? Planning to run in the middle of the night yet?”
I grin. “Only if I can hear all four of you snoring from the guesthouse.”
“Fair. Jasper’s the loudest.”
“Hey, fuck you!” Jasper yells.
Lincoln rolls his eyes. “See? Loud all the damn time.” I laugh, and for a moment he does too. A low, warm sound that seems to surprise him as much as it does me.
Beau moves to the counter, grabbing mugs from the open shelf. “Coffee?” he asks. “We usually all do a cup after dinner. Helps settle the—”
The mug slips from his hand, and it hits the floor.
Shatters.
And the sound…
It slices straight through me.
My vision snaps white around the edges. My pulse spikes. My lungs seize. Everything in the room becomes far away and too loud all at once.
For a second, I’m not here.
I’m there.
Cold floors. Raised voices. The crash of glass that always meant danger, always meant someone was about to be hurt. Sometimes that someone was me.
My breath stutters. Collapses.
But then—
“Hey,” Beau says quietly. The word is so gentle but so steady. He’s not rushing me. He’s soft. Grounding.
Jasper steps closer, not touching me, but close enough that I feel his presence like a shield. “Abigail.” His voice is soothing ina way I didn’t know was possible. “Look at me for a second. Just a second.”
My eyes lift to his face.
His green eyes are steady. Not an ounce of judgment to be found.
