Page 208 of Well That Happened

“Just being practical,” she says primly. “Now, who wants cinnamon rolls?”

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Rilee

The second our front door closes behind us, I sag against it with relief. “We survived.”

“Barely,” Hunter mutters, dropping our bags. “My grandmother gave me her therapist’s number.”

“She gave me a book,” Caleb says cheerfully. “Want to see the diagrams?”

“No,” we all say in unison.

Grayson moves toward me, cupping my face gently. “You okay? You’ve been quiet since we left.”

I lean into his touch. “Just processing. Your family was…”

“Invasive? Overwhelming? Surprisingly supportive?” Hunter supplies.

“All of the above.” I smile despite myself. “Though your grandma’s pretty amazing.”

“She texted me,” Caleb announces, then reads from his phone: “‘Tell Rilee she’s welcome anytime. P.S. - The antique bed in Hunter’s room has a reinforced frame. Just saying.’”

Hunter groans. “I’m changing my number.”

But there’s fondness in his voice, and when he looks at me, his expression softens. “Come here.”

I go willingly, letting him pull me against his chest. He’s solid and warm and smells like home.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into my hair. “For putting up with all that. For being so patient with my family.”

“They love you,” I say softly. “They just want to understand.”

“What’s to understand?” Caleb asks, wrapping his arms around both of us from behind. “We’re happy. End of story.”

Grayson joins us, and suddenly I’m surrounded by warmth and the familiar scents of the three men who’ve become my whole world.

“I love you all,” I whisper. “Even when you’re chaos incarnate.”

“Especially then,” Caleb corrects, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I turn in their arms, looking up at each of them. “Take me to bed?”

Having to be quiet this morning and rush off to breakfast left all of us unsatisfied.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Hunter says, already lifting me into his arms.

He carries me down the hall like I weigh nothing, his grip firm and possessive, one arm beneath my thighs, the other wrapped around my back.

“You know I can walk, right?” I tease, looping my arms around his neck.

“Too slow,” he mutters, like it’s a personal offense. “Need you horizontal. Now.”

“That was definitely in Grandma’s book,” Caleb calls behind us. “Chapter six: Positional enthusiasm.”

“Do not bring my grandmother’s sex manual into this bedroom,” Hunter growls as he kicks the door open.

He lays me on the bed with surprising gentleness, but the look in his eyes is anything but soft. It’s hunger. It’s heat. It’s a little unhinged.

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