Mom chuckled softly. “Dani’s not wrong. He sounds… good for you.”
“Yeah,” I said, unable to stop the smile tugging at my lips. “I think he is…”
Mom reached across the table, her hand warm over mine. “Just be careful with that big heart of yours. I know how you love. All in. No guardrails. That’s a beautiful thing, but it’s also what makes you vulnerable.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But maybe… It’s okay to let someone in.”
Her eyes glistened just enough to make me look away.
Dani broke the silence, nudging my shoulder. “And if he ever hurts you, I’ll key his car.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll take the motorcycle,” I said playfully.
Her grin widened. “Even better.”
Mom sighed, but there was laughter in it now. “Lord help him if he crosses either of you.”
I smiled into my coffee, warmth spreading through me. Between my mom’s cautious love, Dani’s reckless loyalty, and Hunter’s quiet steadiness, I realized something I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time.
I wasn’t bracing for the next heartbreak anymore.
I was just… living.
And when my phone buzzed again on the table, I didn’t even need to read it to know who it was.
Hunter:I’ll earn her approval too.
I laughed, shaking my head as both women leaned closer to peek at the screen.
Mom smiled despite herself. “He might actually pull it off.”
Chapter Twenty Six
Hunter
Nights at Camille’s had a kind of noise that I was quickly becoming more familiar with. It wasn’t the chaos of a squad room or a crowded bar, but the kind that came from life: kids laughing, toys clattering across the floor, the smell of dinner mixing with that vanilla candle she always lit. The twins climbed everything in sight, Zeke guarded his Lego fortress like it was top secret, and it all left me feeling at ease.
At first, I thought I was the outsider. Too big for their couch, too new in their space. But over time, I saw the way Zeke watched me, careful and quiet, waiting for proof that I was safe. Camille told me later he had seen too much too young, that he had learned what anger sounded like behind closed doors. After that, I noticed how he would step between us sometimes, small but like he could protect her if he had to. He was just a kid, but he carried that same kind of vigilance I knew too well. That instinct to guard the people you love, even when you don’t have the words for it.
The night he climbed onto the couch and leaned against me changed everything. He didn’t say a word, just rested his head against my arm and fell asleep. It was such a small thing, barely a touch, but it was the start of something I didn’t want to mess up. I sat there afraid to move, afraid to lose that fragile trust.
It didn’t take long for those small moments to turn into more. The line between her life and mine blurred until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
Now, the late afternoon sun stretched long across the park, painting the grass gold and turning the air heavy with summer warmth. Cami sat cross-legged on a picnic blanket, trying to convince the twins to share their fruit snacks while Zeke showed me how fast he could kick a soccer ball.
“Watch this!” he shouted, his grin wide, the light catching in his hair. He took off across the field, legs pumping, determination written all over him. I couldn’t help but laugh, calling out encouragement while pretending not to notice the way my chest ached watching him, because somewhere along the way, this kid had stopped being just hers and started letting me in.
I made a show of bracing for impact, even though the ball rolled to a stop halfway between us. “That’s some serious power, buddy.”
He laughed, a full laugh only kids can manage, and sprinted after the ball. I glanced back toward Cami, watching her tuck a stray curl behind her ear as she laughed at something Avery said. The sight got to me every damn time. She looked at peace. Soft. Unburdened.
Then her phone rang.
She glanced down, and her whole body changed. The laughter slipped from her face. Her shoulders went rigid. She picked up the phone as if it might bite her, the screen angled just enough that I caught the words:Unknown Number.
My pulse kicked up. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she said too quickly. “Probably spam.”
