Turning, I reach for her hand, squeezing it when she laces our fingers together, and I tug her toward the backdoor. “Let’s show Richter the rest of the family.”
He follows me obediently, and I can’t help but smile to myself because he’s doing so well right now—and he has no idea that I’m leading him directly away from where I’m sure Cleo and Sierra are camped out in their room once more.
As soon as we’re outside, I can hear the kids laughing and it’s one of my favorite sounds in the world. Almost as much as the sounds the older ones make when I take them to my room.
“Casey!” I call out, and he instantly stops chasing Owen to turn toward me. Even from this far away I can see that he’s tense, his gaze sweeping over everyone outside before he heads our way through the snow. Of all my sons, Casey is the one I’ve raised the best. I have hope for Gavin and Owen and Weston, but they’re still too young to know for sure. Casey though… he understands what it takes to keep a family together. He loves me and makes sure everyone else knows he loves them too.
“Daddy…” he says as he approaches, and I tilt my head to beckon him closer. Without hesitation, he steps forward and presses a kiss to my lips, his hand brushing my side before he stands back to look Richter over from head to toe.
Xoe tugs at his sleeve, and Casey’s face turns from rigid and thoughtful into a bright smile.
“Sorry, Xoe,” he says, leaning over to give her a kiss too, and she smiles back at him.
“Casey is my oldest boy,” I explain, looking over at Richter to see him looking stiff, rigid. “He’s probably about your age.”
“I’m twenty-one,” Richter declares proudly, as if he knows fuck-all at that age.
“Then you’re a little bit older,” I acknowledge, but I don’t give him any more information as I turn back to Casey who has crossed his arms. He’s defensive, standing between this outsider and the rest of our family, and I know he’d die to protect any one of them.
Fortunately, that’s unnecessary.
“Richter is my brother, Casey. Family.” The word carries weight in my house, and he slowly lets his hands drop. “Why don’t you tell him who everyone is out here? I just showed him around inside.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Casey answers, shifting to the side so that Richter has a clear view of the wide space behind the house. He points off into the distance where the boys are tackling each other into the snow, laughing and shouting something at each other. “Over there is Owen—he’s the younger one—and Gavin. That’s my sister Brinnah behind them.”
Richter stares out at them for a bit, watching Brinnah as she pelts Gavin with a snowball and then gets hit in return. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth, worrying it for a second before it pops free and he looks at me. “How many kids do you have, Bryden?”
“Right now? Thirteen,” I answer, pride swelling in my chest again as I grin. “But we’ve got a couple more on the way.”
“Hell…” he mutters under his breath, his gaze going unfocused as he lifts it back to the snowy mess in front of us.
There are crisscrossed tracks all over it, but with the snow-dusted trees in the background, it still looks beautiful—and nothing is more beautiful than seeing my family happy.
And that’s what we are. Happy.
Happy and loved, each and every one of us.
Richter blows out a breath and then stands up straighter, trying to look like a man. He’s not quite as tall as me or Casey, but it’s possible he could gain another inch or so in the coming years if he hits a late growth spurt. That happened with Damon, but I’m still not sure just how tall he would have been if he hadn’t lost his way.
Eventually, Richter’s gaze swivels back to me and I know what he’s going to say before the words even leave his lips.
“I want to see Cleo. Now.”
Ten
Richter
Bryden smiles at me, but Casey glances at me with an even stare on his handsome face, careful to hide it from his father. It’s obvious to me now that Bryden, even though he’s older and less likely to harm any of these strong young kids, rules this household quite easily.
But unlike Dad, he does it with love.
Something I can’t really remember feeling after Mom died. True, I’ve tried my best to love Skylar, and I do in a way, but she doesn’t love me back and it’s something I’ve come to live with. It doesn’t make the days any easier, it just makes them bearable.
“Of course,” Bryden says thoughtfully. “But I guess there are some rules I have to lay out before you do.”
I turn to face him, nodding in agreement to terms that haven’t even been discussed, then begin to walk away from Bryden and his son. There’s more to this house that I haven’t been privileged to see and I know that my sister has to be in one of the unexplored rooms.
“Richter.”
The way Bryden says my name stops me in my tracks. I close my eyes for a moment and take a shuddering breath because if I hadn’t known any better, I could almost swear that Luke Greene himself had come to life to speak my name.
He’s not Dad.
I tell that to myself over and over before I finally open my eyes again and glance at him over my shoulder. Xoe’s standing on one side of him, Casey on the other, and while they look like the Gargoyles of Notre Dame protecting their own personal cathedral, he seems to be a lot more docile than his tone intended.
“The rules,” he chides as he walks over and puts a hand on my shoulder.
I lower my eyes to his hand before I raise them again and stare
