Chapter Three

RUE

I turn away from the wall of hunky men, slipping from view before they can press me for answers I'm not willing to give. They are more perceptive than my father, which is troubling, the group easily able to see through my lies, and I'm not sure I like the attention.

I should have felt intimidated when they surrounded me, but I found myself relaxing under their regard. My cheeks burn at being the center of their undivided attention. I'm not used to the attentiveness of such attractive men.

It's a bit overwhelming.

They are the first boys I've seen who are my age, and I'm fascinated.

Unfortunately, while I might be drawn to the guys, involving anyone else in my life would be dangerous. My father wouldn't hesitate to destroy them to get at me, and that's not even mentioning the spirits who haunt me.

The guys would be defenseless against them.

No, the men next door are off-limits. Though they are kind of sweet, getting all protective and shit, I need to focus on myself. My entire life revolved around my father and his needs, and I'm not even sure who I am without him.

"You're moving in with Mrs. Killaghan?" one of the twins asks as he falls into step beside me, while the other one walks on my other side. My cheeks heat once more at being between them, and I avoid looking at them too closely, for fear it would only increase my attraction.

Although they are twins, their energy is completely different.

Not bad, just different.

"I am." I can't squash my smile at their question. I've been staying with her for ten days, and it's like living in a foreign country where I don't know the customs. I no longer have to creep through the house like a ghost, I'm not locked in at night or punished when I make too much noise, and I'm allowed to eat any time I want—no more being sent to bed without food or having meals withheld until I perform.

Even better, Nan treats me like I'm a real person.

She doesn't pretend like I don't exist. In fact, I'd swear she seeks me out, as if she's interested in what I have to say.

It's a novel experience.

Both of the twins smile at my answer, and I flush under their regard. Despite my resolve to keep my distance, I have to be blind not to notice they are stunning. The fact that they are twins makes their handsome appearance seem almost unreal.

And a little intimidating.

"Sorry that you got roped into helping unload the truck." I grimace as I reach for the back of the truck, but the guys beat me to it, flipping the handles and raising the overhead door before I have a chance.

Two of the others jump up without prompting, their muscles flexing as they move with an ease I can't help but admire. The twins catch me gawking, but instead of teasing me, they grin and jump in the back as well with a swagger to their stride, as if they know I'm watching.

Heat burns my cheeks at being caught, but I'm not embarrassed enough to look away.

"Where are you from?" One of the guys remains at my side, watching me and not the others as they begin moving the heavy furniture.

Instead of answering his question, I ask one of my own. "You're all so kind to help me out, and I don't even know your names. I'm Rue."

His brown eyes brighten to amber behind his glasses, and his smile is slow to come, but damn, it's killer. It transforms his entire face, the nerd look replaced by pure sexiness, and a single dimple peeks out from his left cheek that has my stomach fluttering. Maybe it's because I've never been around people my age, but I find myself drawn to each of the guys.

"I'm Ellis," the cutie replies, then he points to the others and calls out their names. "The twins are Jaceson and Jameson."

The twins in question straighten when their names are called, both glance in my direction. The flamboyant flirt bows to me with a playful smile, his pale blue eyes warm with invitation. The more reserved twin tips his head solemnly, but he's no less appealing. They are both built the same, their fringed haircuts nearly identical, but there is something about the way they look at me that makes them stand out.

The flirt looks at me like he wants to devour me, while the quiet one stares at me like he can see into my soul.

Both are remarkable in their own way.

"The bossy one is Hicks," Ellis says with a smile, winking at me. "While his house is next door, you'll often find all of us there."

Hicks acknowledges me with a sharp nod and a grunt that could mean anything. He and the unnamed one hauls the heavy bedframe like it weighs nothing, and my eyes widen when the two of them move it on their own.

"That's awfully heavy." I wring my hands anxiously, worried they might hurt themselves. "Are you sure the two of you should be moving that on your own?"

Hicks rolls his eyes, the nameless one huffs, and the twins laugh. Jameson speaks before I can decipher their reactions. "We work out every day. They could each lift that on their own if it wasn't so awkward in size."

When Jaceson sees that I'm not convinced, he continues where his brother left off. "We know our limits. If we can't handle something, we'll ask for help."

Slightly reassured, I give him a grateful nod.

"Last but not least, the big man is called Gunner." He points to the guy who is broader and heavier than the rest of the guys, his body made of pure muscle. His presence is darker than the others, his hair isn't as trimmed, and his blue eyes are harsher and more reserved.

Gunner nods in my direction, brief and to the point, though I notice him observing me from the corner of his eye when he doesn't think I'm looking. They act like I'm the first girl they've ever seen, and their attention is a heady experience.

The twins each grab a piece of furniture and heft it toward the end of the trailer. The men work in concert with each other, not even exchanging words as Hicks and Gunner set down the large bed frame and jump from the trailer. By the time they turn, the twins are ready, lowering it into their arms.

From the smooth way they interact, they've obviously worked together many times in the past. I step aside as they heft the large item into the house. The twins move the next pieces toward the edge of the trailer, then leave it and head back to gather more items.

It's not long before the whole truck is empty. Instead of carrying everything inside right away, they pile everything on the front lawn and send the moving truck on its way.

Not wanting to stand around while they work, I grab one of the end tables. I grunt under the weight but only make it a few feet before Ellis grabs it out of my hand without a word. Gunner passes me a small lamp instead. Every time I try to help, they always switch out the item for something lightweight, passing me a couple of pillows or a box of curtains instead.

Maybe I should be offended, but I find the interaction adorable. Their attention is addicting, and I like it more than I should. An hour later, everything is inside the house, and I'm mentally exhausted. We gather in my room, the men studying the space intently, each wearing various scowls.

While the men don't communicate much with each other, the silence isn't awkward. It's like they've been around each other for so long that words aren't necessary. They exchange glances, then look toward me. To my surprise, it's Gunner who speaks. "If you can show me where you keep your tools, we can help you put the furniture together."

"Oh, you've done so much for me already," I protest and shake my head. As much as I want to spend more time with them, it's better not to get more attached. "I don't want to impose on you more. I already feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

A wicked smile crosses Jameson's face, but Jaceson speaks before his twin can open his mouth. "It's not taking advantage if we're offering."

I'm unable to argue with his logic. I nibble on my bottom lip, then mentally sigh when it throbs in protest. I'm so used to pain that I keep forgetting it's injured. It would have healed much sooner if I could keep from biting it.

I peer at each of the guys, only to find them watching me closely, each wearing various expressions. Unfortunately, I have no experience reading anyone besides my father, so I can't judge their moods.

These men don't appear to be anything like my controlling father, and I'm unsure how to act around them. Even alone in the room with the five of them, I don't feel threatened. It's an odd sensation, and I'm not sure I trust it.

I can count on one hand how many times I've ever been alone with a man.

I'm cautiously optimistic that not all men are raging assholes, but I'm determined not to get my hopes up. Between my father and the wardens he calls servants, men in general have not left a good impression on me. My body throbs as if remembering the many times I've been beaten for speaking without permission or even looking up from the ground and daring to meet anyone's gaze.

I've been pretending to be meek and mild for so long that it's a hard habit to break. It's ingrained in my psyche at this point, but I refuse to start my new life like the biddable little mouse my father tried to mold me into.

I'm determined to be me…just as soon as I figure it out myself.

"Um, sure," I murmur with a hesitant smile, and the guys seem to relax. "I'll ask Nan where she keeps her tools."

"I'll go with you," Jameson replies with a flirty wink, and I'm not sure if I'm charmed by his forceful nature or overwhelmed.

Hicks comes to my rescue before I need to decide. He shakes his head, then points to the many pieces of furniture around the room. "Stay and unpack."

I almost expect him to volunteer to go with me. Instead, he nods to Jaceson. "You go. If they don't have what we need, you know where to find the stuff at my house."

Jameson shares a long look with his twin. I almost expect him to argue, but he just shrugs and flashes me an unbashful grin. As I head out of the room, Jaceson follows silently. I don't like having anyone behind me when I'm on the stairs, having been shoved down them one too many times in the past, so I slow until he's at my side, then I indicate he should lead the way.

Jaceson pauses for a second, seeing a little too much when he looks at me. With a silent nod, he heads down the steps on light feet, and I breathe a sigh of relief that he didn't force the issue.

I'm not ready to answer any questions.

I'm not sure I'll ever be ready.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I look around the living room but don't see my grandmother anywhere. "Nan?" I call out.

Her head pops around the corner of the kitchen, her face dusted with a white powder. "Yes, dear?"

I repress a smile, then point to a spot on my cheek. "You have a little something here."

She reaches up and brushes at the spot with the back of her hand, but only ends up smearing the flour-like substance on her face. "Thank you."

I blink once, then bite the inside of my lip. I might not know my grandmother well, but I'm coming to understand her a little more after living with her for two weeks. Telling her again will only make the situation worse. "Um, we were wondering if you have any tools so we could assemble the furniture?"

She purses her lips, tilting her head slightly as if trying to recall where they might be stored, then she shrugs and waves a hand like she can't be bothered. "Try looking in the garage, dear. That was your grandfather's domain. I haven't ventured out there much since he passed away."

Whenever my grandfather is mentioned, she gets that misty, faraway look in her eyes, and I'm disappointed I never had the chance to meet the man who could make my absentminded grandmother all atwitter.

My parents' relationship seems obsessive and unhealthy by comparison.

A pang of longing takes me by surprise. Love is a sham, but buried deep in my heart, I can't help but yearn to find someone to care about me that much.

In both relationships, they loved each other more than everything else. While the couples might be on opposite ends of the spectrum, the results are too similar to dismiss. When their spouses died, it nearly destroyed the surviving members.

They just stopped living.

A beep from the oven timer interrupts my ruminations. Nan disappears in a whirl of skirts and an absentminded smile, leaving the smell of perfume she bathes in every morning in her wake. Raising a brow toward Jaceson, I tilt my head in the direction of the garage, silently asking him to follow.

I enter the garage warily, unsure what to expect. I've never been in a garage before—it wouldn't do for me to have access to cars. I peer around warily, and I'm pleasantly surprised. Instead of a dark dungeon of unfamiliar tools, dangerous weapons, and grime, the space is as neat as a pin.

Jaceson glances around the room, zeros in on the workbench, and immediately crosses the space. I wander after him, watching with interest as he selects tools that look foreign and strange. It's not that I've never seen tools, but they look bigger, heavier, and more complicated in real life than on the internet.

"So Mrs. Killaghan is your grandmother?" Jaceson doesn't glance up from where he's piling the tools in a metal box.

Something about his tone makes me feel protective of the older, slightly eccentric woman, and I narrow my eyes. "Choose your words wisely," I warn, a hint of menace in my tone.

His head whips toward me, and his eyes widen at whatever he sees in my expression. He lifts his hands in a show of surrender. "I meant no insult. I think it's great that she opened her house to you. She's been lonely, and I think you being here will be good for her."

I study him for a second, looking for any signs of deceit, but only find sincerity. I relax slightly, casting him a sheepish look. "Sorry. My life" —I stumble over my thoughts before deciding to gloss over my past— "hasn't been easy. Nan might be a little odd, but I do love her." I can't explain to him that she's a little strange thanks to the family gift driving her somewhat batty.

His expression softens, a hint of a smile curling his lips, and my heart flutters in my chest. He goes from handsome to dangerous, and I'm suddenly guarded. To distract myself, I grab some of the tools on the bench and grunt under the unexpected weight.

Jaceson accepts my dismissal, grabbing the rest of the tools, and falls into step next to me. As we reenter the house, he leans down and whispers, "I never had any grandparents. I always imagined my grandmother would be like Mrs. Killaghan. Every time I come over to do yard work, she's always waiting with a smile, a plate of cookies, and lemonade."

I peer up at him to judge his sincerity, but quickly become sidetracked by the way his lashes highlight his pale blue eyes. No man should have such dark lashes. It's distracting, and I lose my train of thought.

His blond hair is bleached by the sun, his dark roots making the pale ends appear even brighter. His haircut gives his straight hair a messy look, but it's done artfully, the strands just long enough to touch the tips of his ears.

Just like his brother, his lean muscles are clearly defined under his clothing. The way his arms flex while carrying the tools is mesmerizing, and I can't help but wonder how he earned those muscles. I worked out as much as I could in the privacy of my room, downloading training sessions off the internet, but I could only get so far with limited supplies, inadequate food, and a body frequently riddled with injuries.

I learned early that toned muscles heal faster.

When we walk past the kitchen, I see Nan putting together a tray of lemonade and cookies. A glance shows empty cookie dough wrappers littering the garbage, but I don't mind. It's more effort than anyone else has ever shown me, and I squash my pleased smile as I follow Jaceson up the stairs.

I nearly trip up the steps when my gaze lands on his firm ass just inches from my face. There is something about the way he fills out his jeans that draws the eye.

How have I never noticed a man's ass before today?

The flex of muscle and the shift of his body is hypnotizing, and I fight the weird urge to reach out and touch him.

My face burns from the odd impulse, and I look anywhere but at him.

It's not like I've never read about sexual attraction in books. I took care of myself whenever the need arose, but I've never understood the need to connect with another person in such a physical way. I thought the books exaggerated teenage hormones, but fuck if I'm not being smothered with them now.

I don't like the lack of control.

I don't need a man in my life.

I've seen the damage falling in love can do and how it can twist a person up. It breaks them, and I'm already struggling to gather the shattered pieces of my soul. I don't need the added confusion of boys in my life, no matter how drawn I am to them.

By the time we reach the top of the stairs, I have myself back under control…until I walk into the room.

Jameson has his shirt off, the strong muscles of his back exposed as he bends over to help Gunner assemble my bed. The two of them together, bare skinned and muscles flexing, test my new resolve, and it promptly goes on the fritz. I catch myself gawking and blink when Jaceson passes in front of me to hand out the tools, thankfully breaking my inappropriate fascination.

Now that I'm slowly slipping out of survival mode, I realize I don't know how to actually live without the stringent rules of my old life. I don't know what people my age actually do with themselves. In the past, I spent most of my days locked in my room.

Most of the time, I would read books, study my online classes, and research my abilities. I did my best to avoid sleeping for long stretches, because that's when I'm at my most vulnerable. Hating feeling exposed and unprotected, I worked diligently on my shields to keep any spirits out, but nothing could keep out the threat my father posed.

He often works all hours of the day and night and would expect me to be at his disposal any time he needed my services. If he ever caught me sleeping, he would wake me up with a slap or a dousing of ice water if I was too slow to respond.

Sleeping more than three or four hours at a time is still difficult. At the slightest noise in the middle of the night, I instantly awake, thinking I am under attack. I can still hear his voice yelling at me to get my lazy ass up. Waking in an unfamiliar room only exasperates the issue, and it takes precious seconds to realize that I'm safe and he can't touch me anymore.

Oh, I know that's na?ve to think.

I don't doubt he's already scheming for ways to get me back.

For as much as he hates me, he will never allow me to go.

Deciding to treat the guys as an experiment, I remain by the door and observe how they work. They barely speak beyond a few directions, each of them moving seamlessly around each other. It's like they can communicate without words.

Ellis finishes tightening a bolt, then hands the wrench over to Hicks without even looking to see if he needs it. Hicks accepts with a nod and moves on to the next section.

It's fascinating to watch.

The twins are even more striking. They don't need to look at each other, working in tandem as they construct two bookshelves. Gunner hovers more on the edges of the group, but I don't make the mistake of assuming that he's not just as integral to the team.

It's like they know he prefers his distance and give it to him.

I'm completely captivated by their dynamic.

I don't realize I'm staring until Jameson winks at me, flexing his arms as he lifts my bookcase upright with an amazing display of strength. Jaceson doesn't seem to mind that his twin draws all the attention. It's like he knows his twin needs it more, and he allows himself to fade slightly into the background…not that anyone who looks like him can completely disappear.

He's more dangerous than his brother, and it has nothing to do with his stunning good looks. He's more observant. For someone like me, who has too many secrets, it's not a great combination. He only needs to bat his lashes in my direction, and my thoughts would scatter, my dark secrets his for the taking.

Not liking the direction of my thoughts, I step farther into the room. "What can I do to help?"

I want to be part of the world, not just an observer.

Gunner glances up from where he's kneeling on the floor, lifting boards and fitting them to the bottom of the bed frame. His narrowed eyes scan me from head to toe, as if he's deciding if I'm worthy, and I straighten under the scrutiny, not wanting to be found lacking.

He grunts and nods his head toward the other side of the bed. "Lift the other end."

With a relieved sigh, I scoot around the guys and hurry to do as ordered. I groan under the weight of the board, surprised by the heaviness and impressed he was able to lift them so easily by himself.

It's not long before the room is put into order. As the twins grunt and manhandle the mattress onto the bed, fantasies of them wrestling on the mattress invade my mind. I quickly turn away before my imagination takes over completely and I do something stupid, like reach out and touch them.

Hicks catches my attention first as he deftly mounts the television to the wall. Ellis sits near the window, diligently setting up my computer system on my new desk. Jameson is organizing the shelves in the walk-in closet to his satisfaction. When finished, he steps out and looks around the room, but everything else is almost done. With nothing else to do, he glances at me. "Where is your stuff? I can help you unpack."

I nibble on my bottom lip, then wince when it throbs in protest before I reluctantly admit the truth. "I didn't bring much with me."

Nothing really, but I don't share that with them.

"I've ordered a few things online," I say, rubbing my brow to cover my embarrassment as I recall how many boxes have accumulated over the last few days. "The boxes are stored in the bathroom. I didn't want to unpack until I had a chance to organize my room first."

The guys slow their work, staring at me curiously as if they can sense my unease. They share a look with each other, and I shift awkwardly, refusing to feel sorry for myself. I don't regret leaving behind every possession I own. I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant being free of that prison.

"Sounds good," Gunner says, rising to his feet. "Show me, and I'll help you."

Ridiculously pleased that they are letting the matter drop, I smile and head out the door. "Follow me."

I open the bathroom across the hall, then wince when I'm greeted by a wall of boxes. "Today was moving day, so I shoved all the packages I ordered online in here to make room. It's a bit of a mess."

Gunner doesn't even blink as he reaches for an armload and begins hauling them into my bedroom. I follow with my own stack and toss them on the bed. Jameson doesn't hesitate to rip the packages open, sort the clothing, and place the items in the closet and dresser.

When he grabs an armful of panties and bras, I'm uncertain if I should be grateful for the help or yank away the intimate items, but he doesn't even blink. With his looks, I'm not surprised he's so familiar with feminine apparel.

Deciding it's not worth the argument, I leave him to it.

Jaceson breaks down the boxes almost as fast as his brother empties them. When he catches up, he stares at the bed, a furrow appearing between his brows. "Do you have any sheets? I don't want to get your mattress dirty with the boxes."

I purse my lips and sort through the boxes Gunner continues hauling into the room. After ripping open two of them, I hit pay dirt. "Here!"

Lifting the dark blue sheets out of the box, I kick the cardboard aside and hand my prize over to Jaceson. He gathers the items in his arms and heads toward the bed without a word. While I enjoy spending time with the guys, their easy camaraderie captivating to watch, I don't like being left out. I shift awkwardly, then decide to follow. "Do you need help?"

"Sure." He doesn't even look up from pulling the sheets out of the plastic wrapping. He grabs the fitted sheet, then he shakes it out until the material snaps in the air over the bed and slowly settles over the mattress. "You get that side. I'll do this end."

I do as instructed. The second sheet quickly follows. It doesn't take long to complete the task, and I look up when I'm done and freeze when I find Jaceson leaning over my bed, smoothing out the wrinkles.

There is something intimate about having a handsome man make your bed for you. He isn't even aware of my gawking as he straightens the corners. Disliking the direction of my thoughts, I straighten and practically sprint from the room. "I'll find the duvet."

I don't spare any of them a glance as I flee, desperate for time to sort my thoughts. Spending years in solitude has made me wary of being around people and crowds. Though I wasn't completely isolated, my surroundings were strictly controlled, the staff constantly watching for any signs of disobedience, then informing my father of any infraction.

I was taught any type of emotion was a liability, taught never to draw attention to myself.

Just being near the guys has my senses going haywire, throwing my emotions completely out of whack, and it's sending my survival instincts into overdrive.

When the guys look at me, it's different from the invasive stares of my father's minions. They are not looking for my weaknesses or searching for any flaws they can exploit. It's almost like they are genuinely curious about me, and that freaks me out more than a little.

What if they don't like what they see?

Or worse, what if they do?

Being near them is like waiting for a blow and not knowing when it's coming.

I nearly trip over the plastic bags in the hallway and barely dodge the stacks of flattened cardboard in my rush. As I scramble down the stairs, I'm lucky I don't snap my neck. I'm panting by the time I reach the bottom like I ran a marathon.

I hate that I'm shaking just because some boy looked at me, and I absolutely detest that I don't know how to interpret the chaotic emotions they invoke with just a casual glance. With so few social interactions, I'm left floundering on how to respond.

I take refuge in the kitchen, unsurprised when I see Nan sipping her tea and shuffling her tarot cards. She smiles when I burst into the room, but her grin fades when she catches sight of my face.

"What's wrong, dear?" She immediately stands and pours me a cup of tea, setting it on the table across from her.

I gingerly take a seat, still unused to her treating me like I'm someone who matters. I huddle over the cup and take a sip, trying to organize my muddled thoughts.

"Did those boys do anything to upset you?" A scowl darkens her face, and she glares up at the ceiling as if she can see the aforementioned boys. The way her eyes narrow, I fear she might try to put a curse on them or something.

"No, they are wonderful. I just…panicked." I look down at my tea, playing with the handle of the cup, a little ashamed for overreacting. "I don't know how to interact with anyone, especially people my age."

"Oh, dear, you did nothing wrong." She reaches over and pats my hand, her expression softening with sympathy, then her whole body quivers with outrage. "I wish I could go back and kill that dratted man for what he did to you."

Before she can work herself up, I grab her hand and smile. "You came when I needed you most—that's all that matters."

It's true. I don't hate my grandmother for not knowing what was happening. It wasn't until I was old enough to go online that I realized most families loved each other, but by then, my parents had pretty much trained me to accept their abuse.

That didn't mean I didn't fight back in my own ways.

Nan leans back in her seat, blinking away tears as she picks up her cup and takes a sip. "Your father was infatuated with your mother the instant he met her. He swept her off her feet, and she couldn't leave fast enough. She didn't like being surrounded by my woo-woo stuff. She thought the occult was all a hoax. The instant she could leave, she disappeared and never looked back."

She sets her cup down and peers out the window, lost in thought. "Knowing how much she hated this life, I let her go. I didn't try to contact her, but I never thought she would turn that hatred on you. I should have?—"

"Stop." I refuse to allow her to take responsibility for something that wasn't her fault. "I don't blame you. You shouldn't either. My mother could have sent me to you at any time. She could have taught me about our heritage. Instead, she was a selfish woman who didn't like anyone grabbing the attention she thought she deserved. I have no doubt if she hadn't died, I wouldn't be sitting here today."

Nan leans forward and places a lingering kiss on my forehead. "Bless you, child. You are too kind to this old woman."

"Nonsense," I reply with complete sincerity, a coy smile curling my lips. "You're not old, you're timeless."

"Oh, you!" She hoots with laughter and swats at me.

I hide my smile behind my cup, feeling fiercely protective of the old woman, and not just because she took me into her life or accepted me without question, despite the chaos I brought into her world. No, I adore her for teaching me what it's like to feel unconditional love. While it's an uncomfortable sensation, she assures me it's something I will get used to with time.

Nan refills my tea, then retakes her seat, fiddling with her cup. "I'm going to cancel my cruise. I don't feel comfortable leaving you all alone so soon after moving?—"

"No, absolutely not. You've already done enough for me by allowing me to stay." I glare at her, my agitation getting the better of me, and I set my cup down so hard, it clatters loudly. "You've been planning this trip for months. I won't allow you to cancel it now. You will go on the cruise with your friends and enjoy yourself."

When she scrunches her face, ready to protest, I hold up my hand. "College starts in a few weeks anyway. I'll soon be busy with classes. After living with my father for so long, it will be nice to have some time alone—time to spread my wings."

Indecision wars on her wrinkled face, then she harrumphs loudly and a mischievous twinkle enters her eyes. "I suppose the old girls will be lost without me. I'll go if you make me a promise."

"Anything," I reply instantly, then want to curse myself when her expression takes on a devilish look.

She leans forward, her expression intent. "I want you to spend time with the boys who live next door while I'm gone. Have them show you around town or invite them over for lunch."

That's the last thing I expected her to say, and I immediately want to reject the idea. "Nan?—"

"No." She shakes her head and leans back in her seat, adamant about the notion now that she spoke it out loud. "That's the deal. I won't have you cooped up in this house by yourself. I want to know you're protected and safe while I'm gone. Those boys can be a bit of a handful, but they have a good heart. What say you?"

I narrow my eyes at the old bird, then tell her the truth. "That I want to strangle you and hug you at the same time."

"That's the way it should be." She cackles, swatting my shoulder with a proud smile. "So you'll do it?"

My throat tightens at the thought of her being away. It's only for a few weeks. Although I just met her, I didn't realize I would miss her this much, and she isn't even gone yet. With a lump in my throat, I give her a small nod. "Very well."

The thought of spending more time with the men upstairs is about as appealing as it is intimidating. "But I have my own terms, old woman. The guys have to agree. I won't?—"

"We agree," one of the guys yells from the stairway, while three others shush him, quickly followed by, "Ouch."

Heat fills my cheeks at knowing they were listening, and my eyes widen in panic. Nan just cackles again. I narrow my eyes on her, suddenly suspicious that I've been set up. "Nan?—"

"Sorry, sweetie. I need to get ready for my trip if I have any hope of making it on time." Nan pushes to her feet, rinsing her cup before rushing from the room.

I watch her disappear, then I heave a sigh and climb to my feet. Stepping out of the kitchen, I halt in surprise when I find all five of the guys hovering on the steps, none of them having moved from where they were caught spying on us.

I cross my arms and arch a brow. "Gentlemen."

Ellis and Jaceson have the decency to look sheepish. Jameson just smiles, while Hicks and Gunner remain impassive, standing like they had every right to eavesdrop on my conversation. "Well, since you already heard everything, you might as well join me in the kitchen for tea and cookies."

Jameson is the first to react, a cocky grin on his face. He pushes his way between the other men, loping the rest of the way down the stairs and nearly trampling the others in the process, sending them tumbling down the steps. He passes close to me, completely oblivious to the curses and chaos he left in his wake. His tantalizing cologne weaves around my senses, potent enough to distract me. It's light, almost floral, luring me closer in a silent invitation to take another whiff.

The rest of the guys mutter threats of bodily harm under their breath as they slowly untangle themselves, then they follow us into the kitchen. The room suddenly feels like it shrank two sizes. I retreat to the other side of the table, needing a moment to gather my wits, but Ellis pulls out a chair for me to sit.

Suddenly flustered, I wring my hands together and grab the first excuse that pops into my head. "Let me get you something to drink. You must be thirsty after working so hard."

I rush toward the cupboard, reaching for the glasses, but Jaceson leans over my shoulder and snatches them from my grip. I turn and watch as Ellis retrieves the lemonade from the fridge, while Jameson grabs the cookies…but not before he shoves one in his mouth first.

Tea with Nan is obviously a frequent occurrence.

Gunner heads straight for the table with a container of sugar in one hand and milk in the other before he takes a seat. Hicks stands near the stove, waiting for the teakettle to warm, watching over everything with his too perceptive green eyes. I reluctantly take my seat at the table, feeling awkward having all their attention on me.

My ass barely hits the seat before Nan bustles into the kitchen, pulling a bulging suitcase behind her that is nearly twice her size. I jump to my feet and reach to help her, only to have Hicks beat me to it.

He picks it up with one hand, not even straining under the weight, and I'm left to do nothing but wring my hands. I glance down at Nan and barely suppress my smile. Her gaudy outfit is a dizzying array of colors, her paisley scarf clashing horribly with her floral dress, which is a perfect match to her quirky personality.

The ginormous floppy sunhat she's wearing is a bright red, the monstrosity sitting at a jaunty angle on her head so only part of her face is visible. Pink ribbons tumble from the brim and trail after her, the strands nearly dragging on the ground. It completes her flashy outfit, but the crowning glory is the long feather stuffed haphazardly into the hat that prevents anyone from coming within a three-foot radius of her without getting whacked in the face.

Every time she moves, Hicks is forced to dodge out of the way, and I barely contain my chuckle. My amusement rapidly fades, though, and I suddenly want to take back my words and beg her to stay. "You're heading out already?"

At seventy, she should be a sweet, gray-haired old granny who's content to bake cookies and knit scarves. Instead, she's an agent of pure chaos, her pixie-like appearance resembling the ageless goddess of Hecate about to dispense some ancient wisdom. She pats my face with a fond smile. "You're going to do fine, Tallie-Rue."

It almost sounds like a blessing.

I swallow hard around the lump in my throat, suddenly wishing I was going with her, even though it's a singles' cruise for people over sixty-five. "Why don't I grab my purse and drive you to the airport?"

Honestly, how hard can it be to operate a vehicle?

The owner's manual made it sound simple enough.

"Nonsense, dear. A cab is already on the way." She sniffles and dabs at her eyes with her scarf, then she fusses with tying it around her neck. As if to emphasize her point, a horn honks outside. She pulls a pair of sunglasses from her giant purse, then plops the most ridiculous oversized lenses on her nose, the glasses nearly covering half her face in the process.

I smile at the way her flamboyant personality shines through her clothing, the whole outfit finally coming together in an adorable image of pure cuteness only she can pull off. "You look amazing."

She peers at me over the top of her glasses and flashes me a cheeky wink. "Thank you, dear. Now give me a hug."

She wraps her arms around me and squeezes. I remain stiff for a second, then I melt into her embrace, wrapping my arms around her just as hard. She smells of flowers and homemade tinctures.

She smells of home.

A click of a camera goes off, and my head pops up. I meet Ellis' guilty gaze, and I smile at him. "I want a copy of that, please."

I don't have any pictures of my nan, and I'm desperate to build memories.

"Of course," he replies with a nod, his brown eyes warm. "I'll just need your number."

"Let me grab it. I have a new phone…" I wiggle the device from my back pocket and unlock it, then I pass it over without hesitation. It's my first phone, and I'm excited to finally start living like everyone else.

Nan gives me one last squeeze, then she yanks me down and kisses my forehead again. With one last wave, she strides out the door in a whirlwind, and I follow blindly. I'm barely aware of the guys gathering close as Nan strides down the driveway toward the taxi, chatting animatedly with Hicks the whole time.

Much to my shock, Hicks nods and smiles down at her indulgently. While Nan chats with the cabbie, Hicks puts the luggage into the trunk. Before he can escape, Nan captures him in a hug. Hicks allows it, remaining unnaturally still, and I'm shocked when he kisses her cheek before she disappears into the back of the vehicle. It's not until the taxi drives down the road that I realize I'm leaning against Gunner.

"You know what they call a cruise for old folks, right?" Jameson grins, and I narrow my eyes on him, something telling me that I don't want to know what's about to come out of his mouth.

"They are floating sex cruises." He giggles manically while the rest of the guys groan or cringe at that mental image. I wince as well, but there is something calculating in his gaze as he watches me from the corner of his eyes.

"What? She's old, not dead," he chides with an evil grin, and Gunner gives a full-on shudder.

That's when it clicks—he told the joke to alleviate my melancholy. I find myself softening toward the flirt. Suddenly overwhelmed and needing time to recharge after being around people all day, I walk toward the front door. "Listen, thank you for helping me today, but I'm exhausted. I'm going to rest for a while."

The guys exchange a pointed look I have no hope of deciphering. Before I can call them on it, Jameson flashes me his most charming smile, refusing to be brushed off. "Don't we deserve a reward for all our hard work?"

I narrow my eyes, wanting to deny them, but then I recall my promise to Nan.

Fuck.

That doesn't mean I'm gullible. I cross my arms, suspicious now that I'm alone with them. "What do you want?"

"Come over tonight for supper." Hicks takes over the conversation, not one to stand in the background. "Consider it a welcome to the neighborhood dinner."

"I don't get it." I glance at each of them in confusion, wondering if I'm missing something obvious. "If you're making me supper, what is your reward?"

His smile is slow and devastating, a hint of lust swirling in his green eyes. It's so different from how I'm normally treated that I'm left a bit flustered and barely catch his next words. "Why, your company of course."