Chapter 07

Declan’s bigass truck stuck out like a sore thumb in front of the clubhouse but not a damn person cared. They were too enamored by the puppy hanging out the window with her pretty little grin and flannel bandana. That dog was about to be the most spoiled creature in the clubhouse.

Roan, however, completely missed Holly’s entire existence because the minute Declan stepped out of the truck, he lost his shit. Dramatically,

“Mav! Mav!” Roan hollered through the front door while he clung to my arm. “Mav! Come take my beer! Take my fucking beer!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, what’re you going on about?” Maverick shouted back, joining us outside. I cringed because neither of their drunk asses needed to be yelling behind me.

“Take my fucking beer!” he repeated. “I’m hallucinating! It’s not even the good shit! It’s Declan! Declan on vacation is my drunken hallucination! Truck and all!”

“Fuck you, Roan,” Declan said, stopping by the front of his truck. His hands fell to his hips as he grinned. Vacation looked fucking good on him. The Declan I grew up with and knew didn’t know the meaning of laid back or letting go. He was all business. Sure, he knew how to have fun occasionally, but it wasn’t often.

This Declan was a fucking trip in a backwards hat with tufts of dark hair sticking out, aviators, a t-shirt, and a pair of sweatpants. Shit, he even had sandals on. Whatever the hell Raven was doing for him, she was doing a damn good job. He looked good—relaxed. He looked fucking happy.

“Oh, God! He speaks!” Roan slammed a hand to his chest. The fucking theatrics. “Take my beer—”

“Gladly,” Maverick interrupted and took the fuller of the two bottles Roan had.

“Hey, that’s my fucking beer.”

“Not anymore.” He downed several swigs.

“You fucking animal.” Roan scowled.

“They started early, didn’t they?” Declan asked me.

“You have no fucking clue,” I replied dryly. “I think he was off his bike all of ten fucking seconds before he had a beer in his hand.”

“Let the Fall Games begin.” Really, at this point, the phrase more or less meant, let the fucking chaos ensue. We’d actually have our stupid wolf games, but we were all here to fuck around for two weeks straight. It was good for pack morale, but it was also good for the leaders to show alliance by opening the pack houses. The only reason we never went to the Baker’s pack house was because the one time we did, John Baker put our asses to work on his ranch. What should’ve been four days of shenanigans turned into four days of working our asses off.

Though, there was a fucking fantastic story about Sam getting roped into helping with the bull semen collection that we’d never let him live down. There were pictures, and it was the first time I’d ever seen Declan laugh so hard he fucking cried.

“Where’s everyone else?” I shoved my hands in my pockets as Roan and Maverick disappeared inside to continue their drinking shenanigans. We were boring as fuck with our normal conversations.

“They took some detours,” he replied. The horn on his truck blared as he locked it, even with his fiancé still inside. Okay then. “Something about tourist attractions. I had a route, so I stuck to it.”

I smiled. That sounded a lot more like Declan. Behind him in the truck, Raven reached for the door, but the horn beeped as Declan locked it again. A slow grin turned his lips when he turned toward the truck where Raven flipped him off, even as she laughed.

“What’re you doing to her?”

“Ask me how many times she’s rolled her damn ankle hopping out of the truck.”

“Maybe you need a smaller truck.” I chuckled.

“Fuck that,” he retorted. He went around the side to open the door for her. It was barely open when Holly launched across the console, over Raven’s lap, and damn near tackled Declan. He caught her with ease as if it wasn’t new behavior.

I remained where I stood, taking the chance to study Declan with Raven. Admittedly, I always worried about Declan whenever it came to relationships. He was a good man—too damn good. He’d bend and bend and bend until he fucking broke for the people he cared about. Maggie hadn’t been bad for him per se, but she wasn’t great for him either. At least I’d grown up with Maggie.

I didn’t know Raven. I had Nolan’s extensive insight into everything about her, which read a lot like a character profile for one of his books. All of my brothers vouched for her, and even Roan liked her, but Roan had yet to meet a woman he didn’t like. I knew Mom loved her, which counted for a lot. Admittedly, I’d also ran a background check on her just in case. Invasive? Maybe. But I worried about him.

Wind-swept blonde hair was shoved under a pair of sunglasses—which adorably matched Declan’s—and sun-kissed freckles on her cheeks and nose brought out the whiskey tones in her eyes. Neon pink leggings clung to her long legs and a see-thru tank top did nothing to hide the matching sports bra. Shit, even her shoes were a pristine white. The ridiculously bright outfit oddly complemented the intricate flower tattoos moving across her chest and covering her arm.

A single look at her was all it took to know she was his complete opposite. The woman had wild chaos written all over her. However, the way she looked at my brother spoke volumes, which was all I needed. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fake that level of emotion and connection. It was obvious as far as she was concerned that Declan had hung the goddamn sun, moon, and stars.

Fuck, I missed that. A sad ache bloomed in my chest, one I swallowed because I didn’t need to deal with those memories.

Strolling right past Declan, she stopped in front of me. Her hands framed her thin waist as she stared at me. There wasn’t an ounce of shame in her as her gaze swept down my body and back up. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized me. I crossed my arms, waiting it out with an amused grin.

“Killian Byrne,” Raven mused. “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You’re like the Voldemort of Cedar Harbor, you know.”

All right. Harry Potter reference. I could take it. I was a fucking Slytherin after all—no one needed to know why I knew that shit. Also, I could only imagine what the hell the gossip in Cedar Harbor was like about me.

“Honey, filter,” Declan sighed. The look of exasperation on his face only made me smile wider. I had a feeling he’d heard this analogy before and tried to talk her out of it using it.

“Town villain, I’ll take it. I hear you, Raven Woods, are the town’s nudist,” I told her. Poor girl. What a fucking title to have. Granted, mine wasn’t much better.

“I am. We can start a club,” she said with a laugh.

“We’ll need club stickers.” Bypassing the hand she offered, I went in for a quick hug. I already liked her. She’d keep him on his toes. “It’s good to officially meet you. Declan’s only told me all the horrible things about you.”

“That figures.” She rolled her eyes. “He hates me. I torture him. It’s our whole thing.”

“Sounds like fun.” Over the top of her head, I caught sight of Declan’s stupid grin. I moved around her to help him grab the few bags they had—which was probably a few too many.

“Why are you in fucking sandals?” I demanded, watching him kick gravel out of one.

“It was just for the drive,” Declan said. “I’ll end up half-naked—”

“Yes, please!” Raven cut him off, and I snorted.

“—and barefoot, so it’s not like it matters,” he finished as if he hadn’t heard her. Bags in hand, he followed me inside with Raven and Holly right behind him. “I called ahead and got Cole to set aside a room in the family wing for us.”

I chuckled. Of course, he did. That was a very Declan thing to do.

“Is it on the first floor or the second?” Raven asked quietly. I caught the way she eyed the staircase. If half the shit Nolan had told me was true—which it probably was—I didn’t blame her.

“First floor,” Declan replied. “There’s a patio door, but it’s facing the side of the house, so we don’t have to worry about all the backyard shit. It’ll be easy for Holly to get in and out of.”

We made it about as far as the dining area before Roan’s loud ass found us.

“Sweetheart!” Roan shouted, throwing his arms out as he caught sight of Raven. “You’re so pink! I’m coming in for a hug!”

He half danced, half shuffled his way to her and put a beer in her hand before wrapping her up in a big hug.

“Lumberjack takedown!” Axel yelled, but the sound was lost as he launched himself on Declan’s back.

Down went Declan.

Down went Axel.

Roan almost went down, only to be barely held up by Raven.

And me? I offered no fucking help as I watched my brother try to fend off Axel’s unannounced wrestling match. I just stood there and laughed. Yeah, these next few weeks would be full of stupid shit and chaos.

The problem was the bags Declan had slung over his shoulders, which I wanted to believe Axel used to his advantage but was probably too drunk to realize. The minute Declan freed himself, Axel was done for. The kid was lean muscle, but my brother was a fucking tank.

“Is it always like this?” Raven asked, her words barely discernible around her giggling.

“Fuck yes,” Maverick replied as he joined us. “We should tell her about the year Declan pissed off the roof.”

“I was sixteen!” Declan growled. He struggled to break free of Axel. Holly howled and barked from her spot, but her entire back end wiggled.

“Or the time his wolf got stuck on the roof,” I chimed in.

“Still sixteen!”

“Baby, maybe you should avoid the roof,” she commented.

“I’ve gotten better—Jesus fucking Christ, you furry leech!” he yelled. Finding his opening, he managed to toss both Axel and a bag over his shoulder before dragging Axel into a headlock. “Get out of that, you furry little shit.”

“Son of a bitch!” Axel snapped. He scrambled and jerked about, but there was no way in hell he’d get the one up on Declan again.

“What about the hot sauce incident when you were twenty-one?” Roan asked. “God, he was so fucking drunk—”

“I hate you all,” Declan announced.

“You win! You win!” Axel gasped and tapped his arm violently. Declan released him.

“This,” he huffed out, getting to his feet, “isn’t going to be roast Declan for two fucking weeks. I got shit on all you fuckers too.”

“Make ‘em put their money where their mouths are, boy,” Cole said. He strode through the massive kitchen looking worn. His dark hair was windblown and showing off the grays at his temples while his stormy blue eyes were dark around the edges. But he wasn’t pissed, which was a good sign for the tourists he’d been searching for. “Take ‘em on at fight night tonight.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You know I don’t do that shit.”

“If I grab your fiancé’s ass, I could get you to throw down,” Roan teased. The look that crossed Declan’s face was downright volatile, matching the deep growl that vibrated in his chest. Wrong choice in taunts.

“Grab my fiancé’s ass and you won’t make it to fight night, Ironwood,” Declan warned. “I’ll bury you in the fucking desert.”

“Shit, you weren’t kidding about the protective side,” I said and grabbed Declan by the shoulders, giving him a friendly shake. “Calm down, Dec. I’ll kick his ass for you if he tries.”

“I mean, his balls are right by my knee,” Raven announced ever so casually. “If he tries, I’ll just knee him in the balls.”

The collective oh that swept through our group was comical. She’d fit right in.

“No, I need those,” Roan whined and pulled away from her. “I need my balls, Declan! Don’t let her kick me in the balls!”

“Then don’t put your balls where she can get ‘em, dumbass,” Cole shot back. He offered Raven a one-armed hug, kissing the top of her head. “How you doin’, darlin’? The boys ain’t too much?”

“Please,” she scoffed.

“Good, good.” He nodded. “I’m movin’ all your asses out of my dinin’ area. There’s shit goin’ on outside. Go be fuckin’ morons out there. I’m goin’ to show these two to their room.”

At pushing fifty, Cole was damn good at putting us all back in our place and wrangling us. Put a little more beer in Roan, and he’d start calling him Daddy. That shit I was fucking waiting for. The fallout always involved Roan on his ass.