Page 123 of Salvaged Hearts

Jesus, it was definitely the women to fear in this family.

About two hours later, we all funneled outside to greet Leighton when she pulled in with her identical twin, Kaia. They earned a chorus of laughter as a rather gangly young man spooled himself from the back seat of her single-door Honda with no shortage of muttered epithets. He stood, looking rather pained as he popped his neck, and then his shoulders and hips, like he’d been stuffed in there involuntarily.

“Could be worse,” the first twin quipped with a one-shoulder shrug.

“Could’ve been the trunk,” Leighton—I was about ninety percent positive—finished as the mirror images vanished, arm-in-arm, into the house without further ado.

Clearing his throat, our newcomer gave an embarrassed, not-so-little wave. He had to be at least six-foot-four. As I studied the muscle mass on his lean body, I guessed, “You must be Maverick.”

A goofy grin spread over his face as he sauntered forward to shake my hand. Ollie had been hovering beside me and canted his head, evaluating his lanky frame. “You’re a little tall for a wide receiver.”

Maverick grinned devilishly as he stretched an impressively long arm up vertically. Christ, his hands were nearly twice as wide as mine. “All about that reach, man.”

“Yeah, but can you move that mammoth frame down the field?” my brother challenged. Of course, he was up to speed on what the baby of the family was doing in Washington. Maverick’s stats were more than promising, but especially for a walk-on.

“Ran track from sixth grade through graduation,” he supplied with a nonchalant shrug, as though he wasn’t standing in front of theownersof theEmerald Bay Bombers. I liked him immediately. “Got roped onto the team for my speed and my reach.”

“Players vie for spots on that teamfor yearsthrough high school. They’re champing at the bit for a chance to red-shirt. What do you mean you gotropedonto the team?”

Maverick shrugged. “Coaches always notice the giant kids. Back home, everybody wanted me just for my height. Very beginning of the year, I made friends with a cheerleader, and she caught video of me breaking up a fight on campus. Pulled them apart like a couple of chihuahuas,” he explained with a cocky little smile that had me swallowing a laugh. “Apparently, coach liked what he saw and asked me to try out.”

Oliver wrinkled his nose, narrowing his eyes in irritation. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Maverick said, snapping his fingers. Now, his smile looked more than a little smug. I mean, his numbers backed up his ego, so good for him. “Red-shirting just made sense. I only played high school ball in Mistyvale, and it wasn’t a career path or anything.”

“Jesus,” Ollie grumbled, shaking his head. “Well, nice to meet ya’, you lucky son of a bitch.”

“I’m sure the last name helped,” Mav supplied, expression turning sheepish as he jerked his chin toward Paxton, who approached with a megawatt smile.

The afternoon was a blur of greetings and laughter as my house filled with a portion of our new in-laws. If the text thread had been overwhelming, it was nothing to the real-life chatter of this many voices.

“We’ve been invaded,” Mattie noted astutely, while Beau relished in the attention from so many pretty women cooing over his little bow tie. He was particularly smitten with the toddling Quinn, who bore a sparkling black bow in her spring-loaded blonde curls.

Chip, meanwhile, was running in frantic serpentine patterns, unsure of who would provide the best level of affection.

“This is only half of them,” Oliver pointed out, a little bewildered from where we observed their conversations. Alice’s decision to have us ‘elope’ had never felt more valid.

“Yikes,” Mattie exhaled, still a little wide-eyed, her shoulders stiff under my hands where she leaned against my stomach. She’d planted herself in front of me well over an hour ago and refused to move since.

I chuckled, squeezing her shoulders and supplying a tentative, “More to love?”

“I guess,” she said, sounding horrified.

“A little less love might’ve benefited their mother,” Oliver muttered, bursting out laughing when I elbowed him in the ribs. Our levity was cut short by something that could only mean trouble, my stomach sinking as my face fell from the humor only a breath before.

Jax, Luke, and Mike were all barreling into the room like hounds on a trail. “Excuse me, sunshine,” I murmured apologetically, guiding my niece to her daddy’s quickly opened arms. Alice somehow picked up on the impending doom because she met me beside them and the group of us wordlessly tucked into the foyer.

“Mrs. and Mr. Hart, we have a situation,” Mike said, looking stone-cold sober. A thin sheen of sweat coated his dark brown skin, eyes hard as stone.

“Things have escalated,” Jax supplied with a growl.

Shaking his head, Luke muttered, “Understatement of the year award.”

“What?” Alice demanded, a bit breathlessly as he glanced over her shoulder toward the house full of her siblings.

“The house is secure,” Jax reassured. “But the office has been hit.”

“Hit?” I bit out, my blood pressure making a dangerously abrupt climb.

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