Page 43 of Bunker Down, Baby

“Mmhm,” I say, breath hitching as his thumb circles lazily over my nipple. “I’m just making sure he feels welcome.”

Dean chuckles against my neck, his mouth warm there. “Real hospitable of you.”

We stay like that for a moment, me petting Brock like a prize stag, Dean grinding softly behind me like we’re slow dancing at a very illegal prom, before we finally pull away and start unpacking his stuff.

Dean tosses Brock’s winter coat over a chair. “You didn’t pack mine,” he teases. “I’m gonna hold that grudge forever.”

“You didn’t have a coat worth packing,” I smirk. “Besides, I bought you better stuff.”

“Mm. True. I’ll look damn good in that jacket you picked,” he says.

“I know.”

He finishes stacking Brock’s gear near the foot of the bed, then turns to me, stretching with that cocky ease. “So. Now what? Go play with Evan? Or should we go shopping for the next two?”

I tap my chin, thinking.

“Let’s check on Evan. See where his head’s at. The radio’s been nonstop. He might finally be feeling a little grateful.”

Dean slings an arm around me as we walk toward Evan’s room. “I love your optimism.”

I unlock Evan’s door and peek in. He’s sitting on the bed, radio crackling beside him, eyes a little wide but alert. When he sees me, something in his face softens, like he was waiting for me.

“Hey, baby,” I say gently. “Thought you might want to stretch your legs. Have a midnight snack.”

He stands slowly, watching Dean with mild wariness, but also… curiosity. “You two bring someone else back?”

“Mhm,” I nod, stepping in to unclip his restraints. “Brock. He’s a hunter. Strong. Skilled. Sooooo hot.”

Evan makes a face. “You have a real problem.”

I just grin. “And now I have people to help me solve it.”

Dean leans against the doorframe, arms crossed like a very smug bouncer. “Radio says downtown’s burning. Half the hospitals are closed. You sure you’re not happier in here?”

Evan rubs the back of his neck. “Honestly?” He glances at me. “I still think you’re insane. But out there? It’s chaos.”

I beam. “See? You get it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t push it.”

I squeeze his arm. “Come on. We’ve got ice cream. We’ve got Dean. And now we’ve got Brock. This family is coming together.”

Dean winks. “It’s like the weirdest version of The Bachelor, but everyone’s already cuffed.”

I throw my head back and laugh, completely filled with joy. Because this is exactly how it’s meant to be. A little twisted. A little terrifying.

Perfect.

Chapter Eleven

Maple

The midnight snack is going so well I could scream. In a good way. Like a ‘sunshine just burst out of my chest’ kind of scream. Dean is feeding me spoonfuls of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream like I’m a treasured little housewife and not a woman who kidnapped him with a sedative and a dream. Every time he taps the spoon against my bottom lip, he grins like I’m the dessert, and it’s not even subtle anymore.

Across the table, Evan is pretending this isn’t happening. Which is adorable, because he let me feed him a few bites too. And not even under duress! Okay, a little duress. Dean did threaten to feed him himself, and I think Evan would rather choke on his own tongue than let Dean hand-feed him.

But still. Progress!

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