Chapter Eight

Brynn

We made our way into the house, the guys talking all at once, their voices overlapping in a chaotic jumble. It was hard for me to keep up with who was saying what, but I tried to let their energy wash over me, taking it all in. Sig and the rest of my team trailed behind us, quiet but alert, like they always were in unfamiliar territory.

As soon as we stepped into the foyer, the sheer size of Wyndemere hit me again. This place was beyond massive, even more so than I’d expected. Every detail was grand but somehow still understated—like Leo himself, in a way. The kind of wealth and power that didn’t need to scream; it just existed.

“Hungry?” Leo asked, turning his attention to me. His eyes softened as they met mine, but before I could answer, he glanced over at Apollo. “Is Bristol here?”

Apollo nodded. “Yeah, she’s been baking up a storm, worried about you.”

I worked hard to keep my face neutral, but I could feel a spike of jealousy at the mention of Bristol worrying about Leo. Who is she , I wondered. I didn’t know if she was a girlfriend, a close friend, or something else entirely, but the fact that her reaction to Leo being away was to bake up a storm said something. My gut churned. Here I was, spilling my guts about having been married to Guy Maranga, and Leo hadn’t mentioned anyone waiting for him back home.

“Why don’t you guys head to the kitchen?” Murphy said, cutting through my thoughts. “Creed and I can show Brynn’s security around.”

Without hesitation, Creed and Murphy led Sig, Don, Jack, and Clyde off for a tour. I knew my guys would be thorough, and I’d probably need a tour myself because, at this point, I could already feel how easy it would be to get lost in this place.

Leo fell into step next to me as we trailed behind Apollo and Princeton toward the kitchen. His presence was warm and steady, but I couldn’t shake the uncertainty bubbling inside me. Who was this Bristol? And why did it matter so much to me that she’d been worried about him?

“You okay?” Leo asked softly, his voice cutting through my internal noise.

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and nodded, managing a small smile. “Never better.” A complete lie, of course. I was about to walk into the kitchen and meet this Bristol—whoever she was—and I couldn’t help the knots twisting in my stomach. It wasn’t like I had a claim on Leo, but still, something about this situation felt off-kilter.

As we approached the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked bread and cinnamon hit me, warm and comforting. I could hear the sound of laughter and low conversation, and I braced myself, trying to relax my shoulders. Whatever happened next, I needed to play it cool.

When we stepped through the doorway, I was surprised by how full the kitchen was. A large group of people was gathered around the kitchen island, some perched on barstools, others standing with plates in hand. Another smaller group was seated at a large farmhouse-style table near the windows. The late afternoon light poured in, casting a golden glow over everything.

It was cozy—too cozy.

Before I could take it all in, a woman’s voice rang out from the island. “Oh my god!”

Every head in the room turned toward us, and I immediately saw the shock on their faces when they registered Leo standing there. It was like they hadn’t expected him to show up at all, and suddenly, the easy, relaxed atmosphere shifted into excitement.

No one looked familiar to me. These weren’t the faces of Leo’s old crew, the men I used to know from his world. This was a whole new cast of characters, and they were looking at Leo like he was a ghost who had just walked through the door.

A tall woman with dark hair, curvy figure, probably in her early thirties, pushed away from the island and rushed toward Leo. She threw her arms around him, clearly relieved to see him. “Leo! We didn’t know what the hell happened—no one was sure when you were getting back.”

Leo hugged her briefly, then stepped back, his hand resting on her shoulder for a beat. “We got held up in South Carolina. I’m fine.”

The woman’s eyes flicked over to me, and I caught the momentary flicker of curiosity in her gaze. “And you are?” she asked, clearly trying to piece together why Leo had walked in with me, a stranger, at his side.

Leo glanced at me, then back at the woman. “This is Brynn,” he said, his tone calm but with a weight to it, like he was signaling to them that I wasn’t just anyone. “She’s… helping out with some things.”

That was all he said, leaving it vague. I couldn’t tell if that was deliberate or if he just didn’t want to open the floodgates right now.

The woman raised an eyebrow but smiled politely. “Nice to meet you, Brynn. I’m Bristol.” So this was the woman who’d been worrying about Leo. There was something about the way she said it, like she knew exactly what she meant to him and wasn’t threatened by me in the least.

I forced myself to smile back. “Nice to meet you too.”

Bristol wasn’t what I’d expected. She had an easy confidence about her, the kind that came from being in a place long enough to know where you fit. And right now, I had no idea where I fit in all this.

“You want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot,” Bristol offered, turning back to the kitchen counter.

“Sure,” I replied, even though coffee was the last thing I wanted. I needed to keep my hands busy, though. I was starting to feel like a guest in a life I wasn’t supposed to be part of.

As Bristol poured, a younger woman from the group at the table came over, her eyes scanning me up and down. She was tall and striking, with sharp, dark eyes. She hugged Leo and then turned to me. “I’m Tatum.”

Murphy moved over to her, and he put his arm around her waist. Ah, she was Murphy’s woman. They looked great together.

“Nice to meet you, Tatum,” I said, though her tone made it clear she wasn’t sure what to make of me yet.

Murphy whispered something in her ear, and her eyes sharpened.

What did he tell her?

A loud peal of baby laughter rang through the kitchen, followed by the quick patter of small feet on the hardwood floor. My head snapped in the direction of the sound just in time to see a toddler burst into the room, giggling as he ran. A man in a leather cut followed close behind him, his face flushed from the chase.

“Mama!” the baby squealed, making a beeline for Bristol.

Bristol, with a wide smile, crouched down, holding her arms open wide for the little boy. He threw himself into her embrace, and she scooped him up effortlessly, swinging him into her arms with a warmth that caught me off guard.

Wait… Bristol was Mama ?

“I tried to keep him in the backyard to wear him out for his nap,” the man in the leather cut said, slightly out of breath. “But he wanted Mama.” He smiled fondly at the two of them, ruffling the little boy’s hair.

I blinked, my mind working overtime to piece it all together. I had assumed—wrongly, as it turned out—that Bristol was Leo’s woman. But now she stood in front of me with a baby on her hip who very clearly resembled the man in the leather cut. I glanced over at Leo, expecting to see some flicker of discomfort or surprise, but he looked completely at ease, as though this scene was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Bristol is married to Pie,” Leo said, noticing my confusion. He gestured toward the man in the cut. “And that’s baby Duke.”

I blinked again, trying to process it all. Bristol… wasn’t Leo’s woman. She was married to the guy standing next to her, the man called Pie, and the baby was their son. My brain felt like it was catching up on delayed information, pieces falling into place one by one.

“She’s the chef,” Leo added with a small smile, like everything should’ve been clear all along.

Good lord , I thought, feeling the tension I hadn’t even realized I was carrying ease from my shoulders. Bristol was the chef, not Leo’s woman. And she had been worried about him because, apparently, she cared about him in the same way she probably cared for everyone in this house. Maybe that was why she’d been baking nonstop. The thought actually made me smile. Of course, she was the chef.

“Good freaking lord,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head at myself.

As if on cue, Leo nodded toward two other women who had been quietly watching. “That’s Kitty,” he said, gesturing toward a petite woman with curly brown hair. “She’s with Princeton and lives here, too.” Kitty gave me a friendly wave from her spot by the island. “And that’s Jada,” Leo continued, indicating a striking woman with pretty long hair and a confident air about her. “Somehow Creed managed to lock her down, don’t ask me how.”

Jada smiled warmly; her eyes sparkling as she waved. “Nice to meet you,” she said in a voice that immediately put me at ease.

Kitty pointed to an older man seated at the table. “And this is my dad, Larry.”

Larry, a grizzled man with kind eyes, grinned at me from across the room, a giant cinnamon roll in front of him. He looked like he was in heaven as he took a bite, his expression practically glowing.

“He knows how good Bristol’s cinnamon rolls are,” Kitty laughed. “I’m sure he’ll talk your ear off later, but right now, he’s busy.”

I nodded politely, my gaze drifting over the room. Kitty and Jada were clearly more welcoming than Tatum had been. The difference in how they treated me was palpable, and it made me relax a little. At least not everyone was holding me at arm’s length.

“Cinnamon roll?” Bristol offered, holding out a plate toward Leo and me. The scent of cinnamon and sugar wafted up, tempting me.

“Thanks,” I said, reaching for one. Leo grabbed one too, and we moved toward the table, settling in.

The room hummed with conversation as everyone resumed their chatter. Despite the warmth and laughter around me, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that I didn’t really belong here. Everyone seemed so comfortable with each other, like they were part of this unspoken, tight-knit circle, and I was just an outsider peeking in through the glass.

A few minutes later, Creed, Murphy, and my guys came into the kitchen, making a beeline for the cinnamon rolls without even needing to ask. Sig gave me a quick nod, his expression unreadable as usual, while the others dug in, chatting with Apollo and the rest.

“You okay?” Leo’s voice was soft next to me, almost too low to catch in the midst of the noise.

I glanced at him, surprised by the question. “Should I be?” I asked, keeping my voice equally low.

He chuckled softly, leaning in a little closer. “I wouldn’t be if I were you,” he admitted, his eyes twinkling with something close to mischief. “I’m barely able to sit here instead of running to my office and locking the door.”

That surprised me. I looked at him, really looked at him, and realized that even Leo—calm, collected Leo—was a little overwhelmed by all this. The admission made me feel a little better, like maybe I wasn’t the only one who felt out of place in this giant mansion full of people.

“Well, at least you’re not running off yet,” I said, taking a bite of the cinnamon roll. It was warm and gooey. A perfect distraction from the buzzing anxiety I still felt. “These cinnamon rolls are probably worth sticking around for.”

Leo smirked. “Bristol’s cinnamon rolls have been keeping this house together for years.”

I smiled back, feeling the tension ease just a little more. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. If Leo was struggling too, then maybe I wasn’t completely out of my depth.

Besides, I didn’t know how long we were going to be here.

With how unhinged Candace had gotten since her brother’s death, it might not be long until she came after Leo right here.

“We showed Don, Jack, Clyde, and Sig where they could stay,” Apollo updated Leo, then glanced at me. “Figured you can give Brynn the tour and show her her room.”

Leo nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Might as well do that now.”

I waved it off. “It can wait.” Everyone except for Tatum, who was still keeping her distance, had been incredibly kind and welcoming.

Leo’s eyes met mine, and I caught that familiar look he used to give me years ago—he wanted to slip out. No words were needed.

I shrugged and picked up my empty plate. “Though it would be nice to know where I’ll be sleeping.” Reaching for Leo’s plate, I took it along with mine and headed for the farmhouse sink in the kitchen.

“You could have just left those,” Bristol called over, her voice light as she pulled two loaves of bread from the oven.

I paused, catching a whiff of the fresh bread, and my eyes widened. “Oh my gosh,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “They weren’t joking when they said you’ve been baking up a storm because you were worried about Leo.”

Bristol giggled, her shoulders bouncing slightly as she tipped the loaves out of their pans and onto a cooling rack. “Yeah, baking is the one thing that seems to calm me down.”

“Well, at least you get delicious bread and goodies out of it,” I replied, running my fingers over the smooth surface of the counter. “I can’t even remember the last time I baked anything.”

“If you ever get the urge to bake while you’re here, the kitchen’s always open,” she said with a playful wink. “Just as long as you don’t burn my pots.” She threw a glance at Murphy, who had been quietly leaning against the pantry.

He smirked, pointing over his shoulder. “You’ve got extra pots back there. You can’t stay mad at me forever about that.”

Bristol rolled her eyes but grinned, her mood as warm as the bread she’d just pulled out. “I can be mad as long as I want,” she teased, and then her eyes flicked back to me. “Is there anything you don’t like to eat? Any allergies I should know about?”

I shook my head quickly. “No, nothing like that. I’m pretty easy to feed.” I smiled, grateful for the hospitality. “Honestly, I appreciate you cooking for me at all.”

“It’s what I do,” Bristol replied, her smile genuine. “If I’m not feeding these mafia men here, I’m usually over at the clubhouse with Meg, making sure all the guys there are fed, too.”

“Sounds like a full-time job,” I said, stepping back to let her finish up.

“It is,” she laughed, “but I love it.”

I glanced at Leo, who had been watching the exchange in his quiet, observant way. He gave me a little nod, signaling it was time to go.

“Guess I should see the rest of the place now,” I said, stepping away from the kitchen and the comforting smell of fresh bread. As nice as it was in here, a part of me was relieved to be getting away from the buzzing activity for a while. The tension that had built up inside me since I’d arrived hadn’t completely melted, but it was getting there.

“Try not to get lost,” Bristol called.

Leo led the way, his hand resting lightly at the small of my back as we moved through the house. The place was bigger than I’d realized at first, with sprawling hallways and rooms that seemed to branch off endlessly.

“So…what do you think?” Leo asked once we were away from the others and climbing the grand staircase to the second floor.

I looked over at him, shrugging with a half-smile. “It’s nice. Cozy, even, for how big the place it. Everyone’s been really welcoming.”

“Except Tatum,” he added, his tone light but with a hint of something underneath.

I winced, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “She’s just…figuring me out, I guess.” The guys knew about me, and it wasn’t unlikely that they had told their girlfriends about me. Maybe Murphy hadn’t painted me in the best light. Hell, I didn’t even know what Leo had told the guys once we had broken up.

He didn’t add anything to Tatum being standoffish with me, just nodded and led me down another hallway. “You’ll be staying in one of the guest rooms in this wing. It’s quiet, away from most of the noise.”

“Perfect,” I muttered, trying to shake off the lingering nerves. As much as I liked everyone, I wasn’t used to this yet. “Am I the only one in this wing?” I asked. It was crazy that Leo had wings in his house. I wasn’t lying when I said I liked things to be simple, and I was more than happy being in my apartment.

Guy had owned several properties, and now they were mine. But instead of living in them, I rented them out. I had no desire to hop from place to place, like we had done during the first years of our marriage. That kind of instability had never felt like home to me. I couldn’t imagine living in a place as large as Leo’s, either. But surprisingly, his home felt more welcoming, homier than I had expected.

Leo was walking beside me as we moved down the hallway. “My room is at the end,” he said, nodding toward the large double doors about twenty feet ahead. “Bristol has her quarters behind the kitchen. Princeton, Kitty, and Larry have rooms at the other end of the staircase. Apollo, Creed, and Murphy stay in the rooms by the pool. Your men will be in the rooms also by the pool.”

I glanced back toward the stairs, noting just how far away everyone else was. The realization that Leo and I were practically isolated on this end of the house was… interesting. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but something inside me shifted.

Leo stopped in front of a door and opened it, revealing the guest room. It was simple but inviting. The bed was large and covered in neutral-colored linens, and the thick curtains looked like they’d block out any hint of sunlight. My bag was already sitting on the dresser and placed there ahead of time. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, and I could tell right away that I’d sleep well here.

“This’ll do just fine,” I said, stepping inside. The room’s warmth and simplicity calmed the unease I’d been carrying since I arrived.

I felt Leo’s presence in the doorway behind me and he lingered longer than necessary. When I turned to face him, there was something behind his eyes—a quiet intensity. It stirred something deep inside me, a sensation that felt oddly familiar yet foreign after all this time. There was so much there, just beneath the surface, though he didn’t say a word.

The air between us thickened and charged in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. The way he looked at me reminded me of how we used to be back before everything changed. It wasn’t just nostalgia—it was something more present; something real. My heart quickened and I shifted, feeling uncomfortable but not in a bad way. It was the kind of discomfort that made me feel alive and made me aware of him.

“Uh, well,” I started, needing to break the silence that had stretched too long. “I think I’ll get settled in. Did you want to meet with your guys and go over everything?” I tried to steer the conversation toward something neutral, something safer.

“Everything?” he asked, one brow lifting. “Including you being Maranga?”

I wrinkled my nose at that. “I’m not sure about that yet. The more people who know, the more likely it’ll get out before I’m ready.” I crossed my arms, feeling the weight of that secret, one I hadn’t fully decided how to handle yet.

Leo nodded, but I could see the slight tightening of his jaw. He didn’t like my answer, but he wasn’t going to push. “Whatever you want,” he said, his voice steady. “Why don’t you meet me at the bottom of the stairs in an hour?”

I nodded, grateful he wasn’t pressing the issue. “Sounds good. I think I can find my way down without getting lost.”

He chuckled softly. “Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll see you in an hour.” He paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on me once more before he finally stepped out and gently closed the door behind him.

And then I was alone.

Alone with my thoughts. With the stillness of the room. With the realization that I was really here, in this house, in this situation, with Leo .

I sat on the edge of the bed, running my hands over the soft linens as my mind raced. I was supposed to be here to take care of Candace. That was my reason for being here. And yet, all I could think about was Leo. I couldn’t stop myself from replaying every glance, every word, every moment we’d shared since I arrived. How was it possible that after all these years, he still had this effect on me?

His life was so different now. When we were together, everything felt chaotic, unstable. He was always moving, always shifting between priorities, between places. But now? Now he was calm, settled, surrounded by people who clearly respected him. This wasn’t the Leo I had known twenty years ago, and yet… under the surface, I could tell he hadn’t changed all that much. He was still the same calm, measured, and determined man he had been back then. Maybe a bit softer around the edges, but the core of him was still the same.

I exhaled deeply, trying to shake off the swirl of emotions. It wasn’t like I hadn’t moved on with my life. I had. Guy and I had been together for years, built a life together—though that, too, had its complications. But this— being here —was stirring things up that I wasn’t prepared for.

I stood up, pacing the room, trying to ground myself. My gaze landed on the window, the curtains drawn, keeping the outside world at bay. I walked over and pulled them back slightly, peeking out at the grounds below. The large, sprawling patio area was visible in the distance, and beyond that, trees stretched out, framing the horizon with a glistening lake. This was Leo’s world now—peaceful, controlled, everything in its place.

And I was just a visitor.

A part of me wanted to close the door on all of this, to push down whatever old feelings were bubbling up. But another part, a quieter, more vulnerable part, wasn’t sure I could. Not when Leo looked at me like that, not when the air between us still felt charged with the potential of something unfinished.

I turned back toward the room, my mind drifting back to Leo’s words. “Including you being Maranga.” That wasn’t just a secret—it was a complication, one that could unravel everything if handled the wrong way.

But for now, I had an hour to myself before facing him again. Before facing whatever this was between us.

I sat back on the bed, inhaling the calming scent of lavender once more, and tried to clear my mind.