“What?” I ask, brows furrowed as Crue snatches the money from Ezra’s fingers. “What did I do?”
Ezra sighs. “You’ve got Ham’s genes.”
I have no idea what that means, and my face must show it because Crue clarifies for me.
“Ham’s hot. Must run in the family.”
Before I have a chance to respond, Ezra drops onto the couch beside me, arm stretching across the back. He smells fresh and clean, like laundry detergent, and I’m dwarfed by the sheer size of his frame. I’m not short, but I didn’t realize Ezra Hawke was so broad until just now.
“Scoot, Boss,” Crue says, and it’s all the warning he gives Brynn before he’s plopping down on the other side of me.
“You’re going to scare off my tutor,” Brynn says, giving Crue’s shoulder a shove. “She’s not used to your brand of stupidity.”
“Then we must expose ourselves to her.”
I choke on a laugh as Crue’s eyes widen the moment he realizes what he said.
“Apologies. That came out wrong.”
“Good God, Crue,” Mabel says on a groan, and Ezra snorts, but I keep my attention on the guitarist.
“It’s fine,” I say, my tone belying the humor I feel. “I know what you meant.”
“Don’t tell them that. They’ll never shut up now.”
Ezra leans over me to grin at Brynn. “Don’t act like you don’t love us, Boss.”
“I find you loathsome.”
I bark out another laugh, and the guys glance at me again. Then they look at each other as if sharing thoughts.
“What?”
“Even your laugh is hot,” Ezra says.
I laugh again before I can stop myself, my hand shooting up to cover my mouth.
“You two are dangerous for my ego,” I mumble between my fingers.
Ezra drapes his arm over my shoulders. “Or maybe we’re just what you?—”
“Hands off, Hawke.”
My uncle’s stern eyes are set on Ezra.
“I’m just saying hello, Ham. Introducing myself.”
Uncle Wade arches a bored brow. He sees right through Ezra, and Ezra knows it. He sighs dramatically and reluctantly slides his arm off my shoulders like a scolded child. It’s beyond amusing to watch my uncle wield this authority over people who, just moments ago, felt larger than life. I’m smiling so big my cheeks hurt, the discomfort from earlier rapidly dissipating until...
“I don’t think her husband would approve.”
My eyes widen at my uncle’s words, spoken so plainly, yet the result feels like a slice on my skin. Like a betrayal, despite their truth. Uncle Wade’s brows furrow slightly, and I work quickly to wipe my expression away. It doesn’t matter, though. He saw.
“Husband,” Mabel says. I whip my head toward her and find her staring at me. Face blank. Voice even. I can’t tell what she’s thinking. “You’re married.”
I nod once, and she drops her eyes to my hand.
“Where’s your ring?”