Page 64 of Trapped Truth

“Maybe that’s the secret.” Her canine digs into her bottom lip. “You should take note, Ember. Never let a man—or multiple men—dare to have an opinion. You’re running the ship, not them.”

“Hey!” Hudson bellows from the sofa. “Stop corrupting Ember.”

“Please,” Hyland adds darkly.

I flip them both off. “Quit eavesdropping on our conversation. It doesn’t concern you.”

“See?” Brooklyn beams at me, clinking our glasses. “You’re a natural already.”

Kade has refilled us by the time Brooklyn’s fifth and final husband makes a delayed appearance. Brooklyn crosses the room to pull the squealing baby from his arms, softening from ball-buster to devoted mum in the blink of an eye.

“She wanted to say hi.” The tall, muscled man shrugs.

“Come here, baby girl. Mumma missed you so much.”

With the infant handed off, he crosses over to the breakfast bar to give me a handshake. Our fingers grasp—his skin icy, grip professional and firm.

“I’m Jude. Ember, right?”

“That’s me.”

“Thanks for joining us. It’s good to put a face to the name at last.”

“Likewise.”

Golden orbs penetrate my outer layer to assess beneath the surface, leaving me squirming internally. It’s a different level of intensity to Eli’s assessing stares; his seem to be searching for any signs of threat.

By contrast, Jude’s attention is more like a focused laser beam eviscerating layers of skin cells and fat tissue to access a hidden target. I’m not sure what he sees. Nor if I want him to dig that deep into my brain.

“Should you be weight bearing?” His brows pinch, the same rich-brown hue as his neatly combed, shoulder-length hair. “Heard you had a run in with a blade.”

“More like the blade ran into me with some dick’s arm attached. It’s okay, I’m healing up. Takes more than a little stabbing to slow me down.”

Jude snags his wife’s wine glass to sip. “So I hear.”

“You work in the rehab clinic with Phoenix?”

“Yes, for my sins. Weirdly, I actually know your brother. He’s consulted on a couple patient cases to assist with legal issues in the past. Where is he today?”

“With his boyfriend’s family… We saw them both for coffee this morning.”

“That’s good. He works too hard.”

“Ember, can you check the oven?” Brooklyn pauses between blowing raspberries on the baby’s neck.

Eli rises from his stool. “I’ll help.”

Between us, we get the meat covered and laid to rest while the potatoes and veggies finish cooking. Once that’s done, Eli moves to join the others, taking a seat on Phoenix’s lap.

He opens his arms wide for Brooklyn to hand their child over for him to cuddle. The baby seems all too pleased to be placed in his lap. With the other men watching, Eli begins to bounce her in the air, eliciting an excited squeal with each swoop.

It’s hard not to stare. The whole family unit operates so seamlessly. No egos or hurt feelings, no petty jealousies. They act completely in-tune with each other, almost synchronised.

For a long time, I struggled with my feelings for the team—not least of all the complexities of loving multiple people. It isn’t exactly the fairy tale we’re all told to aspire for. But in many ways, this right here is the happy ending that most aren’t fortunate enough to ever experience.

“You good, Ember?” Jude studies me from the corner of his eye.

“Just thinking.”