Page 44 of To Curse A Knight

“Pay up!” Shane called out as we walked closer. Drew sheepishly shook his head at his husband. We stopped awkwardly in front of our welcome party.

“What was the bet this time?” I cocked an eyebrow in the direction of my least favorite of Winter’s husbands; Shane just winked at me.

“I thought you were covering for Kellan,” Drew admitted, running a hand through his short blond hair as his guilty hazel eyes met mine. “Shane said there was no way he’d be coming without giving the guys a heads up, but I”—his eyes darted behind me to my companion, and he dropped his voice, as if doing so would save Lucky’s feelings—“thought something might have finally clicked with you two. I owe him fifty bucks.”

“’Fraid Kellan still has his head stuck up his arse on that one, mate,” Lucky piped up unhelpfully. He dragged my suitcase to a stop behind him and reached out to Drew to shake his hand. “I’m Lauchlan. Nice to meet you.”

Winter, standing between Travis and Logan with Noble on her hip shyly peering at us from between his fingers, gave Lucky a once over and then mouthed ‘he’s hot,’ before beckoning us into the house. Cam grabbed my suitcase and hoisted it over his shoulder like it was the weight of a pillow; I smirked at Lucky in satisfaction.

Cam was a jacked carpenter now, but he used to be one of the best boxers in the state and still trained regularly. Kellan used to spar with his half-brother, and it was as bloody and erotic as it sounded.

Wepiled into the front foyer, exchanging hugs and introductory handshakes while I cooed over Noble’s growing form. The little bundle turned one within the week, and as his favorite auntie, I’d brought him his birthday present.

Winter handed Noble off to Travis, and I immediately yanked my best friend into my chest for a tight hug. We’d grown up in Cascade Falls most of our lives, but hadn’t become friends until adulthood. Now, she was my most cherished relationship, and I hated we lived hours apart.

When we were young and dumb, we could have spent years of our time in each other’s company. Now that we had our shit together, we had to relegate our girl time to rare weekends because our lives kept getting in the way. Daily memes and text messages just weren’t enough.

Tears pricked my eyes like they always did when we reunited, and I quickly brushed them into her long auburn hair before pulling away to properly assess her.

Winter looked light years better than my last visit—her postpartum depression appeared finally under control with the right meds and lifestyle changes. Her blue-green eyes sparkled and the smile on her face was relaxed and genuine. I was so grateful she had five good partners taking care of her when I couldn’t.

“Are you guys hungry?” Her eyes shone with love as she glanced over at Logan and Cam. “These two cooked you an authentic Southern meal, and you’re going to want to eat it hot.”

“Since when can you cook?” I pushed Logan’s shoulder affectionately with a smile. He hadn’t cooked a single meal in all the time I’d known him; before he was married—to Winter, not me—he’d lived off catered salads and gourmet takeout.

“Since everyone in this house kept giving me shit,” Logan retorted. Winter ushered us into the huge eat-in kitchen at the rear of the house.

Aspromised, a spread fit for a queen was laid out on the harvest table, and I gladly took a seat. I rarely indulged in high-fat, salty foods, but Cam’s cooking was impossible to say no to.

“So, how did you two meet?” Travis asked over dinner. Winter’s most charming husband flashed one of his bright smiles; kind, curious green eyes authentically wanted the story.

Well, this one would be easy to answer, at least.

“Quintessence, funnily enough.” I snuck a glance at Lucky, who had grabbed a seat at the end of the table next to the highchair, and had taken to playing with Noble—who was squishing the remains of his buttered biscuits into his hair. “He had the balls to hit on me when your uncle stood me up.”

“Kellan is one brave fucker.” Shane flicked his long, dark braid over his shoulder. His storm gray eyes flashed with amusement before he shoved a huge helping of potatoes into his mouth.

“Hold up.” Lucky’s attention turned from the miniature food fight Noble had started to Travis. “Kellan is youruncle?”

Travis shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable, but he didn’t dodge the question. “It’s complicated, but yeah.” He waved a hand toward Cam, who sat on the opposite side of the table. “We’re both related to Kellan. It’s a fucked up family tree.”

Lucky’s gaze flicked back and forth between Travis and Cam, as if searching for the family resemblance. There wasn’t any; Cam was dark-skinned, with brilliant blue eyes and close-cropped hair; Travis was white, albeit nicely tanned, with wavy black hair and green eyes.

Before Lucky could ask another question, Travis quickly switched the subject. “Has Jeremy made you my latest?” he asked eagerly.

I had to smile at his enthusiasm. Travis oversaw the entire bar operation across their five locations, and the signature drinks were his creations.

“You know I only drink dirty martinis, Trav, but I’m sure it's delicious.” I turned to Lucky to at least fill him in. “These guys own Quintessence and their four affiliate clubs.”

“That’s grand!” His sea-glass eyes lit up with interest. “Love it there. Reminds me of Artesian Bar in London.”

“Really!?” Winter beamed excitedly at Logan, who returned her smile with a confident smirk of his own. “That’s the restaurant we modeled it after! That’s literally thebestpraise.” She tossed me a wide smile; Lucky had her immediate approval.

Logan flashed an all-too-familiar cocky grin at his wife. “And whose idea was that?” He taunted cheekily, sipping his tonic water. “You know the best ones are all mine.”

“Definitely not,” Shane disagreed, buttering another roll idly while cocking a disbelieving brow at Logan. “Lava Cake Sundays were my idea. If you ate chocolate and had taste buds, you’d know what we’re talking about.”

“I cooked this meal, didn’t I?” Logan shot back, pointing his fork accusingly in Shane’s direction.

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