Page 169 of Mission Shift

“I love you too, Daria.” I nodded toward the door. “Now come meet the family.”

I stepped out first and reached back to help Daria. The second her heels hit the driveway, Handsome barreled out after us, his paws thudding on the concrete before he bounded up the steps like he owned the place.

I turned to the driver. “Leave the bags here. We’ve got it. Thanks for the ride.”

He gave a polite nod and moved toward the back of the car.

Daria glanced up at the house, where I could already hear a dog barking from inside and what had to be Sam’s voice calling to Atticus.

By the time we reached the top of the steps, the front door was flying open.

“Braxton!” Samantha barreled into me like a freight train, arms wide and grinning from ear to ear. I barely had time to brace myself before she crushed me in a hug. “Oh my God, you’re home!”

I laughed and hugged her back. “Told you I wouldn’t miss the wedding.”

She pulled back just far enough to look at Daria. “And you must be Dasha!” Without waiting for confirmation, she wrapped Daria in the same kind of bear hug that had just knocked the wind out of me.

Within seconds, Murphy came flying down the hallway, his claws scrabbling on the wood floor as he barked his tiny head off. Handsome stepped forward like a bodyguard on duty. Murphy caught sight of him, tried to stop, and instead belly-slid right under him—like a curling stone between two goalposts.

Samantha screamed. “Oh my God, Murphy!”

“Stand down,” Daria said, calm as could be.

Handsome moved aside and dropped to his belly next to the tiny dog. Murphy scrambled up, clearly rattled, and backed away, eyes flicking between all of us. Handsome lowered his head and nudged Murphy gently with his nose.

Murphy turned his head left, then right—trying to decide whether he’d just met a friend or a death sentence. Then he barked once and made a break for the sliding glass door leading from the living room to the back porch. When Handsome didn’t follow, Murphy paused halfway and barked again.

Daria kneeled slightly. “It’s okay, but be careful with him,” she told Handsome. “He’s little.”

Handsome gave her a look—and something just short of a nod—then trotted off after Murphy like he’d been given a mission.

Samantha stared after them. “That dog is terrifying but brilliant.”

“He’s definitely one you shouldn’t judge by his cover,” I said, stepping inside.

“Come in, come in,” Sam said, waving us through. “Atticus, get their bags, would you?”

Atticus appeared in the doorway, grinned at me, then looked at Daria and gave her a polite nod. “Welcome to our home.”

“Thanks,” Daria said, her eyes flicking between Atticus and me, probably noting our resemblance.

I followed Atticus back down the steps to retrieve the luggage, and when we returned, Samantha was walking Daria to the kitchen, pointing out things as they went.

“And here’s the kitchen—Atticus’s favorite room. The espresso maker—his obsession. You can always count on wonderful coffee in the morning,” Samantha said, laughing. “That’s Murphy’s treat jar. Don’t let Braxton near it—he steals the peanut butter cookies.”

Daria cracked a small smile. “Noted.”

“So, how did you and Brax meet?” Samantha asked, turning to face her.

I stepped into the room just in time. “Guess that’s my cue.”

I walked up behind Daria and slid my hand across the small of her back. “Sam, Atticus…I’d like to properly introduce you to my wife, Dasha Thorin.”

Atticus choked. Samantha blinked, surprise written all over her face.

“Your what?” Atticus said, his brows climbing halfway up his forehead.

“Wife,” I repeated, draping my arm around her waist. I pulled Daria close, and she leaned into me.

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