Colt scanned the room—at Wren laughing, at Dad's smile, at Wyatt pressing his lips together—and his expression shifted from shock to outrage.
"Dad knew?"
Dad shrugged.
"Wyatt knew? And you told Maisie?"
"I didn't tell her. She figured it out on her own."
Wren shook her head. "She's wearing his hoodie. How did you not notice?"
"She wears your clothes too."
“That’s not the same and you know it.”
Colt stared at Sienna, taking in the gray hoodie swallowing her whole. He dragged both hands down his face.
"Why the hell didn't anyone tell me? Even Maisie knew before me!"
"Because you can't keep your mouth shut," I said. "You'd have told Donna at the diner, the mailman, and everyone in the bar after three beers."
"That’s not true, I can keep a secret!"
"Last year, you told me what Dad got me for Christmas in October," Wyatt said.
"That was different, it was a really cool chainsaw!" Colt turned his glare back on me. "How long? How long have you been sneaking around with Sienna?"
“Since Cheyenne," I said, gripping her waist tighter.
"Cheyenne. That was months ago. I sat across from you at breakfast. I made jokes about you two. You let me make jokes."
"You'll survive, Colton." Dad set his mug on the mantel. He studied me, then Sienna. "Congratulations, son. On Vegas. And on the rest of it."
"Thanks, Dad."
Sienna lifted her head from my shoulder. Her face was still flushed, but she stayed close, palm flat against my chest.
Colt dropped onto the sofa. "I'm deeply offended. But we're going to Vegas, so I guess I'll forgive you."
Wren headed for the kitchen to find real glasses while Wyatt launched into an explanation of the NFR for Maisie’s benefit. By then, Maisie was already back to braiding yarn into his hair.
I gazed down at Sienna. Firelight caught in her eyes.
"You okay with all this?" I asked. "Secret's out."
She reached up and traced her fingers along my jaw. "I'm with you, so I'm perfectly okay."
I kissed her once more, quick and soft. We eventually settled on the sofa, Sienna tucked against my side.
Outside, the storm kept rolling. Inside, my family filled the house with five conversations at once, loud and overlapping.
Vegas was happening. Sienna was staying. I didn’t know how I could ask for more.
The feeling lasted until her boss called the next morning.
twenty-eight
. . .
