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Maybe even part of him hates Ace.

“I made your favorite when you arrived in town, too,” their mom says, dropping her arms and stepping back, a frown on her face.

Oakes just shrugs and walks away, the woman I presume is his fiancée and the lead organizer of the wedding festivities, Jenny, hurrying after him.

I note he doesn’t wait for her.

I note he doesn’t even glance back.

It takes a lot to keep my expression neutral with my asshole radar pinging off the charts.

But I manage.

Luckily I do because then Joan is turning to me, extending her arms, and saying, “You must be Violet. I’m so pleased to meet you.”

“It’s lovely to finally meet you too,” I tell her, stepping into her embrace, wrapping my arms around her in turn. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“That’s funny,” another masculine voice says, “because we haven’t heard shit about you.”

“Steve!” Joan gasps, breaking the hug and smacking her husband across the chest. “That’s inappropriate.”

Ace’s father huffs out a laugh that doesn’t sound the least bit amused. “What’s inappropriate is stealing his brother’s thunder right before his wedding with a fiancée no one has met before.”

I slant a look at Ace, who just shakes his head, a muscle flexing in his jaw.

“That is seriously inappropriate, honey,” Joan grits out. “We should be thrilled for both of our boys.”

“And maybe you two should chill on the arguing considering you’ve met Violet all of two minutes ago.”

I turn to a man who’s obviously another of Ace’s brothers.

He’s pointing a charming smile in my direction, but I don’t miss that it’s coated in ice that can rival my own when he directs it at me, extending his hand for me to shake. Ace’s younger—but not youngest—brother wraps his hand around mine, shakes gently. “Violet,” he says quietly. “I’m Noble.”

“I know,” I reply, trying to slip my hand from his.

His head cocks to the side, and he holds tight.

“Ace gave me the rundown,” I lie. “Apparently, you’re the one who was hatched out of an egg because of your blue eyes?”

He stills then throws his head back and laughs like Ace had on the plane, some of that ice thawing. “Man, bro,” he says, straightening, but not releasing my hand, studying me closely, his demeanor casual, but I see that he’s laser-focused on me.

I don’t like that particular Ambrose skill—paying attention even though he’s pretending not to.

“You’re giving her ammo to throw shade right from the start?” he asks Ace. “That’s cold.”

“Gotta make sure Vi has all the proper information,” Ace says, wrapping an arm around my middle and yanking me back against his chest in a movement that steals the air from my lungs, but also frees my hand from Noble’s. “So she knows who to avoid.”

Noble winks at me, stage whispers. “He means me.”

“I’m getting that,” I stage whisper back.

“Well.” He claps his hands together like that’s a job well done and I have the distinct notion that I’ve just earned his respect. “I guess I should head back to the humble abode, make sure it’s still standing.”

“And try to steal some of my freshly baked rolls,” Joan says before narrowing her eyes and adding in warning. “I counted them all and there aren’t any extras.”

“Except for your stash in the pantry,” Noble says, mouth curving at her outraged huff.

He bends and kisses her cheek. “But still, I’ll wait for you to give me the green light.” He pats his belly. “Even though I’m wasting away.”