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“My sweet boy.” Mom opened her arms, and Lucian stepped into them, wrapping her up in a hug that displayed a disconcerting familiarity. Her sweet boy? Lucian was a forty-year-old megalomaniac.
He was tall, dark, and evil. I was short, fair, and awesome.
I watched him go, and then when I was certain he was inside, I opened the bag to find my favorite breakfast burrito wrapped tight in foil. The diner didn’t deliver. And Lucian shouldn’t have known my favorite breakfast.
Simon: If I could have chosen a son in this lifetime, it would have been you. Take care of my girls.
Me: Sloane isn’t at her sister’s. She’s home alone. Naomi: Thanks for the heads-up. I had a feeling she was going to try to wrangle some sneaky alone time. Lina and I will handle it.
“We brought hugs and tequila,” Naomi called. “Naomi brought hugs. I brought tequila,” Lina corrected.
Naomi buried her face in the fabric. “So soft! And it smells amazing.” Her head came up, a frown pinching her mouth. “And familiar.” Stef, Jeremiah, and Lina each took a whiff. “Lucian,” they said together. All eyes returned to me.
“We’ll give you two options. You can either talk about your dad, or you can talk about Suit Daddy,” Stef said.
“I’d like to point out that you met your fiancé by arriving in town and kissing his brother.” I turned to Naomi and Stef. “And you two met your respective men by walking into a coffee shop and a barber shop.”
“Go, Waylon,” Knox whispered, pushing his dog toward the front of the house. “Find Mommy.” Nash looked down at Piper, who was standing on the toes of his boots, looking like she was hoping to get scooped up and saved from the indignity of snow. “You heard your uncle. Go find Mommy.” The two dogs tore through the snow and cut around the front of the house, barking ecstatically.

