Her lips curved into a slow, devastating smile. She linked her arm through mine and pressed close. “I love it when you’re possessive.”
Something warm spread through my chest. A year ago, that sentence would’ve made her flinch. Now she leaned into it. Into me.
That was the thing I was learning about us. About healing. Aboutafter. Jealousy could be playful instead of dangerous. Possessiveness could feel like safety instead of control. Context changed everything.
“But seriously, we should set him up,” Harper said. “He looks like he’s calculating tax returns in his head right now.”
“Apparently, he’s not big on dating. He’s basically a Jace mini me, before he met Scarlett.”
Jace approached, drink in hand. “I’d argue my brother is nothing like me.”
I’d argue they had more in common than either would admit. The same dramatic past. A murdered father. A mother lost to illness. Enough family secrets to make the average person run screaming.
Harper, apparently, had decided to investigate. She released my arm and made her way toward Bryson with the kind of determination I recognized from her shifts in the infirmary.
On the way, she held her hand up in the air like some kind of Bat-Signal and motioned toward the Sinners and Saints’ significant others. “Ladies, let’s do this.”
I watched, mildly horrified, as Tessa, Dakota, Scarlett, and Faith fell into formation behind her like a well-coordinated tactical unit.
A moment later, Bryson Lockwood was surrounded.
Five women. Five drinks. Five smiles that were a littletoofriendly. They examined him like a specimen under a microscope. Or a man about to be put up for auction.
The poor bastard didn’t stand a chance.
Now that these women had found true love, they’d apparently designated themselves Cupid’s arrow. Rescuing onelonely heart at a time. Whether that heart wanted rescuing or not.
I locked eyes with my fellow Sinners and Saints. Without a word, we drifted toward the ambush site.
Damage control seemed wise.
“Hello,” Harper said brightly.
Bryson paused mid-drink, taking in his surroundings with the dawning horror of a gazelle who’d just realized he was encircled by wolves. Very chatty, wine-holding wolves.
“Hello?” he managed.
“Bryson.” Harper extended her hand. “I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Harper.”
He shook it, his expression guarded. “Nice to meet you.”
“From what I hear, you’re a lot like Jace.”
Bryson’s eyes swept to his brother, then back to Harper. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She laughed, head tipping back. “Itwasa compliment.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?” Bryson wondered aloud.
“I hear you’re single.”
His eyes narrowed. He glanced at her arm, which she’d re-linked with mine, then sized me up.
Tattooed ex-con versus billionaire.
I tilted my chin down and waited.
“I’m not hitting on you,” Harper assured him.
