Warrick chuckled softly and shook his head, then held out one giant paw to Nolan. “Hello, I’m Warrick. I’m the reasonable brother. It’s nice to meet you.”
Nolan shook, but Ryder was pleased to note that those dark eyes kept sliding back to him over and over again. “Pleased. Your brother has been super kind to me, letting me stay here.”
“That’s Rye. Soul of kindness.” Con popped out of the fridge. “Ah ha. Lettuce. Why is the bread in here? It should be wrapped in waxed cloth and sitting on the counter. The fridge dries it out.”
“Con has opinions,” Rye murmured, making Nolan grin.
“I know what food needs, I know how to treat it, and I know what tastes good. My brother will eat anything. He has the taste of a stinky old grizzly who lives in the wild.”
“That’s what Mom said,” Warrick said, his laughter filling the air.
That was all it took before they all started laughing together, Nolan looking from one to the other to the other.
“There’s no question that you’re brothers, that’s for sure.”
Warrick offered his mate a smile. “We are of the same mind, and we’ve been together our whole lives. Or at least Connal’s whole life.”
That got them chuckling again because, while they weren’t triplets, they were only spaced a year apart on each side. Boom boom boom. And so none of them could remember being without the other.
Nolan looked wistful. “Race is a tiny bit older than me. Not a lot. But enough that he thinks of me as a little brother.”
“He’s protective, that’s for sure.” Con handed Nolan a tomato from the counter. “Thin slices please.”
“Oldest brothers should be protective,” War said, nodding his head sharply. “It’s our prerogative.”
“Or it could be that you’re just assholes.” Connal did a little shaking dance, his butt swinging from side to side.
Nolan snort-giggled at that, then covered his mouth with one hand. “Sorry.”
“Hey, don’t apologize. He deserves it. He’s such a giant jerk sometimes.”
“Con, back that up.” That was War, but they weren’t going to fight in front of Nolan. Rye could tell they were just teasing.
He showed Nolan where the knives were, so he could carve up that tomato. Then he hand-pulled some lettuce leaves. He knew how Connal liked them, and it was important to get them right or Con had trouble eating them.
Even War contributed by toasting the bread, which had dried out just a little bit in the fridge and putting mayonnaise on it, or whatever everybody wanted.
They sat down to BLTs, chips, and pickles because Con had to have pickles with everything, even if they were sweet pickles. And he felt super at ease.
Nolan had notched right in with his brothers and him without even so much as a worried stare, and he loved that these two parts of his life were coming together so seamlessly. It really did feel like magic.
If Nolan had been afraid of his brothers, he would have kept them apart for a while, but Nolan seemed to understand instinctively that his brothers were not going to hurt him.
Oh, they could put the pain on lots of people if they needed to. But hurting an omega? Abusing someone like Nolan? Absolutely not in their DNA.
Nolan ate eagerly. They’d made plenty of big sandwiches, three each for him and his brothers, and Nolan ate both of his without apologizing. “It feels good not to feel hungry.”
“They didn’t feed you?” Warrick frowned.
Nolan shrugged and sighed. “It wasn’t that. It was more that the alpha my parents had chosen for me was into twinks. Skinny ones.”
All three of them wrinkled their noses at once.
“You’re a bear,” Warrick pointed out, and Ryder had to add?—
“You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
Con, of course, said. “And body-shaming is stupid. Even if you weren’t a bear, it’s your body, your choice. That’s bullshit.”
