Page 50 of Insta-Family (Forbidden Descendants 3)

An amused sound left my lips. If people kept calling me that, I was going to have to legally change my name. “Vaughn,” I greeted.

“Nice to meet you.” Gray lifted the containers higher, bringing attention to them. “Could you tell Luce the top container is for her from Reese? And then the bottom one is for...you.”

“Me?” I blinked in surprise and fumbled to take the pile of food as Gray extended it.

“Yep.” Gray dusted his palms off on each other as if glad to be rid of his load. “My mom wants you to know she’s sorry about your brother and hopes you’re doing okay.”

“Uh…” I looked down at the containers, not sure what to say. “Thank you?” I finally answered, wondering who the hell Reese was.

“And…” Gray went on, sliding a plastic sack from his wrist that I hadn’t noticed had been hanging there until that moment. “The cookies are for both you and Lucy. From Yellow.” Then he grinned proudly and pointed at himself. “That’s my wife.”

When he plopped the bag on top of the containers in my arms, I looked up at him, wondering, “How did all these people know I was going to be here?”

And why were they bringing me food?

“Oh, they didn’t know-know,” Gray assured with a good-natured grin. “But as much time as you’ve been spending over here lately, they figured you’d make your way back sooner rather than later. My sister, Bella, will probably be by later with something too. When she saw Yellow taking the cookies out of the oven, this competitive gleam entered her eyes. And I know Eva’s planning a stew. So I’d expect plenty more sympathy food if I were you.”

I shook my head, baffled by the outpouring. “You guys don’t have to bother with me, you know. It’s been over seven months since…” Unable to say the actual words, I cleared my throat and lamely settled with, “Since Duke.”

“But no one knew who you were seven months ago,” Gray explained, companionably slapping me on the side of the arm. “But now that you’re Ava Grace’s uncle and making yourself useful around here, you’re officially part of the family. Welcome aboard. Expect lots more interfering, overly helpful, and extremely nosy involvement ahead.”

“Uh...” I shook my head, utterly confused. “What?”

The man in front of me merely chuckled in that oh-you’ll-learn kind of knowing way. It made me nervous, frankly. Then he pointed as he backed down the steps. “Remember: Gray came with food from Reese and Yellow. Top container for Lucy, bottom for you—unless you two want to switch—and the cookies are for both of you. Got it?”

No. I didn’t get shit.

None of this made sense. I shouldn’t be slotted into Lucy’s big, conglomerate of a family unit just because of my relationship to Ava. That didn’t seem...right.

But I blinked at Gray and slowly said, “Got it.”

He grinned back and threw me two thumbs-up. “Great. And trust me; you want to get in on as many of those cookies as you can before Lucy sees them. We didn’t call her the cookie monster when we were kids for nothing. See you around, man.”

Then he turned away and jogged back to his car.

I was still shaking my head over the bizarre encounter as I shut the door when Lucy spoke from behind me.

“Did I hear voices?” I turned with my arms still loaded, and she slowed to a stop, giving me the most perplexed look. “What…?”

“Gray just stopped by to drop off food from Reese and…Yellow?” I reported, still not knowing who any of those people were, but hoping I at least had the names right.

I glanced down at the load in my arms and furrowed my brow, adding, “He said it was for both of us.”

Lucy straightened in surprise. “Gracen was here?”

I squinted. “Is Gray short for Gracen?”

She smiled. “Yeah, but...” Gaze moving to the food, she shook her head in confusion before her eyes widened. “Oh, I probably should’ve warned you; you’re on the

family radar now.”

“I’m...what?”

“Yeah.” Her face flushed a guilty pink. “When Pick and Eva met you, he made some comment about you still struggling with your grief or something like that.”

“I’m not—” I shook my head insistently, and alarm seized my limbs as my body went into defensive mode, naturally assuming there was danger.

But I wasn’t struggling. Just because I’d bawled at the hospital over Ava once and still couldn’t clean out Duke’s room didn’t mean I had problems. I was good. I hadn’t had a single suicidal thought at all since that one near attempt.

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