I rinse the plates harder than necessary. This feeling is not happening. Not today. Not ever. I have a job. Patch her up. Keep her breathing. Hand her off to the crew. End of story.
But when I glance over my shoulder she’s still sitting there in my clothes, sipping coffee, looking at me like I’m not the asshole I’m trying to be.
I wipe my hands on a towel and mutter under my breath. “Damn it.”
This is going to be a problem.
THREE
DAISY
I limp beside Eli down the snowy path toward the lodge. The morning sun glints off fresh powder and turns everything sharp and bright. My ankle throbs with each step, but Eli keeps his arm looped around my waist, steadying me without making it obvious. His grip is firm, warm through the borrowed flannel he lent me. Every time I wince he slows without a word.
The lodge comes into view: big timber frame, wide porch, smoke curling from the stone chimney. Voices drift out through the open front door. Laughter. The clink of dishes. My stomach knots tighter. These people don’t know me. I showed up bleeding and terrified in the middle of the night. They have no reason to help. Especially not after I tell them who’s chasing me.
Eli keeps his arm around my waist as we step into the lodge, steadying me so I don’t put too much weight on my bad ankle. The warmth hits me first, then the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet baking in the oven. The room goes quiet for half a second when the door closes behind us, every pair of eyes turning our way.
Eli doesn’t hesitate. He clears his throat once, voice low but carrying. “Everyone, this is Daisy Madison. She showed up at the gate last night hurt and running. She’s staying with me until we sort out the trouble chasing her. Daisy, meet the family.”
He starts on the left and works his way around the room like he’s reading off a roster he knows by heart.
“Rafe,” he says, nodding toward the tall man with silver at his temples standing near the fireplace. Rafe steps forward, offers a firm handshake, and gives me a small, steady smile. “You’re safe here. Anything you need, just say it.”
Next to him stands a woman with soft brown curls holding a toddler on her hip. “Harper,” Eli continues. “And that’s Poppi trying to grab your hair already.” Harper laughs quietly and shifts the little girl so she can wave a chubby hand at me. “Hi, Daisy. Welcome. Poppi already likes you.”
Gavin and Kayley sit close together on the couch. Gavin is built like a linebacker but his eyes are kind when he nods. “Gavin,” he says simply. Kayley smiles bright, freckles standing out across her nose. “I’m Kayley, and this is Aidan.” The little boy peeks out from behind her shoulder and gives me a shy wave before hiding again. “He’s shy until he knows you. You’ll win him over with cookies.”
Rhett and Emma are next, sitting side by side like they’re glued together. Rhett gives a single respectful dip of his chin. “Rhett.” Emma’s smile is warm, her Southern drawl soft. “Emma. We’re so glad you found us, sugar.”
Chase leans against the kitchen counter with Fiona tucked under his arm. Chase flashes a quick grin. “Chase.” Fiona wavesenthusiastically. “Fiona. I’m making lasagna tonight. You’re eating at least two pieces. Doctor’s orders.”
Silas stands near the fireplace with Hannah beside him. Silas gives me a short, solid nod. “Silas.” Hannah steps forward and squeezes my hand gently. “Hannah. We’ve got you now. You’re not alone anymore.”
Boyd claps a big hand on my shoulder—gentle for someone his size. “Boyd. Good to have you.” Harlan stands quietly beside him and offers a small smile. “Harlan. Anything you need, just ask.” Thorne simply dips his chin from his spot against the wall. “Thorne.” Wyatt pushes off the doorframe with a lopsided grin. “Wyatt. Welcome to the circus.”
Eli finishes the introductions and looks down at me. “That’s everyone. They’re loud, nosy, and they’ll fight to the death for anyone under this roof. You’re under it now.”
I swallow hard and look around at all the faces watching me with nothing but open welcome. No suspicion. No judgment. Just quiet acceptance.
My throat tightens. “Thank you,” I whisper. “All of you.”
Harper steps forward again and pulls me into a careful hug, mindful of my bruises. “Come sit. Coffee is hot and we have cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven. You look like you could use both.”
Eli guides me to the couch and helps me lower myself down. He sits right beside me, thigh pressed to mine, arm stretched along the backrest behind my shoulders like it is the most natural place in the world.
The chatter starts up again, easy and warm, and for the first time in months I let my shoulders drop. These people don’t know my story yet, but they have already decided I belong.
And Eli’s hand brushes the back of my neck in a slow, absent caress that tells me he has decided the same thing.
I lean into him just a little.
Eli clears his throat. “She’s ready to talk. Let her get it out.”
I take a shaky breath and start. “I grew up in a small town outside Reno. My father runs a… business. Imports, exports. He calls it legitimate. Most people call it organized crime. I never wanted any part of it. I stayed quiet, kept my head down, worked at the library, saved every penny. Three months ago he sat me down and told me I was getting married.”
The room stays quiet. I force the next words out.
“The groom is Dominic Garcia. He runs most of the southwest corridor. Drugs. Guns. People. Whatever pays. My father owes him a lot of money. Dominic agreed to forgive the debt if he gets me. A bride. A trophy. A way to tie our families together so no one crosses anyone else.”
