Be good.
Be discreet.
Be a lady.
There’s never any mention of being happy, being fulfilled, being my own person. I press my lips together and breathe deeply through my nose before answering. “I will.”
I switch off the call and take a few moments to collect myself. There’s a flutter of snowflakes drifting dreamily past my window. By morning, the trees will be swathed in white with a carpet of fresh glitter laid out at their feet. White twinkle lights blink in the ponderosa trees lining the path to the lodge. I take it all in, hoping to absorb some festive flair, but my mood stays dark.
I feel alone and trapped and burdened by the weight of the world. Then I feel like a jerk because I’ve led a life of privilege. What more could I want?
Autonomy.
Love.
A life that’s entirely my own.
A white truck glides past, and my pulse ticks up a notch. Bradley’s arriving for poker night, and my silly, irrational heart goes from canter to gallop in just one breath.
Standing up with a sigh, I make my way to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. There’s no reason at all I should put on makeup to spend an evening with my infant nephew, but vanity gets the best of me, and I reach for my mascara.
Ten minutes later, I’m striding out the door wearing Luscious Spice lipstick and another bright sweater, this one royal blue. It was Lily’s personal favorite from our shopping trip.
“This makes your tits look fabulous,” she said as she adjusted the deep V neckline. “Throw your shoulders back when you wear it and walk into every room like you own the place.”
I take her advice, straightening my spine as I step onto the front porch of Mark’s cabin. I rap once, braced for my burly cousin to answer. Instead, I hear a shout from inside.
“Door’s unlocked. Come in.”
Taking a deep breath, I push my way through and head for the dining room.
My eyes land first on Bradley, and that’s all it takes. My heart stutters to a halt in my chest as I stumble over my own feet.
He’s cradling Brian in his arms, cooing down at him like the baby is his own flesh and blood. His attention’s fixed on my nephew, which gives me a moment to stare as he sings what sounds like a baby-talk rendition of Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face.”
So this is what happens at guys’ night.
“Hey, Izzy.” Jonathan’s voice pulls me from my trance, and I do my best to drag my eyes off Bradley to where Jon sits grinning at the other end of the table. “You here to whoop our asses at Texas Hold ‘Em?”
Mark frowns beside him. “No swearing in front of the baby.” His gaze skims his nephew’s slumbering form and softens before swinging to the archway between the table and the living room. He stares at someone standing behind my shoulder. “You found him.”
I look over and freeze. Dante looms at the threshold of the room holding a brown and white bunny. Countless times I’ve seen Long Long Peter in the arms of my siblings, but never like this. Never with a bald, scowling killer cradling him like an infant.
“Damn nice rabbit,” Dante murmurs with undisguised reverence.
I wait for Mark to jump on Dante about cursing, but he holds his tongue. Maybe anyone who looks this blissed out over a bunny gets a free pass. I don’t know.
All I know is that when I glance at Bradley, he’s not smiling. “Hey, Iz. You’re here to steal my little friend away?”
“Wait, not yet.” Sean scoops the infant from his arms, earning a soft whimper from Brian. “I haven’t gotten my turn.”
Austin shakes his head and gives me a bemused look. “Here’s what you can look forward to someday, Izzy—the instant you procreate, your spawn becomes the most popular person in the room.”
Everyone chuckles except Jonathan, who shoots me a worried look. I know what my kidney donor is thinking since we sat through many of the transplant consults together. “It’s okay,” I murmur as heat floods my cheeks. “The doctors seem confident my equipment is still in working order.”
I watch Bradley’s brow furrow as his face transforms into a look I recognize as his doctor mask. “You’re past the one-year mark. If your doctors say your kidney function is stable, there’s no reason they couldn’t switch up your meds if you wanted to get pregnant somewhere down the line.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Dante stiffen. “Who’s getting pregnant?”
“No one!” I hate how fierce the declaration sounds coming out of my mouth, but I can’t stop now. “Well, Chelsea’s pregnant. That’s Mark’s wife. And with all these marriages, I’m certain it’s a matter of time until all your wives are expecting.”
I’m trying to deflect attention, and thank God James takes the bait. “Not me,” he says as he shuffles the deck of cards. “Lily’s adamant about maintaining our childless-by-choice lifestyle.”
Mark scrubs a hand over his beard. “You’re cool with that?”
“Absolutely,” James says. “Not like there’s going to be any shortage of children around here.”
Sean grins and rocks Brian in his arms. “Just means you have more free time for babysitting.”
Speaking of which, I should do what I came here to do. I step in to ask for the baby at the same moment Dante makes his own move forward. The result brings the two of us toe to toe at the edge of Mark’s dining room.
Dante stares me down, blue eyes cold. “No.”
I blink but manage not to step back. “No what?”
“You can’t have a turn with the rabbit.” He looks down, stroking Long Long Peter with one blunt finger. “Not yet.”
“Aw, shit.” Sean laughs and blows a raspberry on Brian’s cheek, making the baby giggle. “You’re never getting your bunny back, Mark.”
My brother scowls. “Don’t swear when you’re holding a baby.”
I stare at Dante, not sure if his protectiveness of Long Long Peter is a coded threat or a genuine fondness for the rabbit. Call me crazy, but I swear there’s more warmth in his eyes than I’ve seen the entire time I’ve known him. Ignoring me, Dante runs a hand down the bunny’s back, relishing the softness of his fur.
“So, Dan.” Austin clears his throat. “I understand you’re also from Dovlano.”
Bradley sits up straighter and gives me a look I can’t read. He shakes his head once, a gesture I assume means he didn’t tell the others what I told him. If my brothers know he’s a bodyguard, they didn’t learn it from Bradley.
Dante gives a curt nod. “Correct.”
There’s a long stretch of silence, which American custom dictates should be filled with elaboration. Dante sharing what brings him to Oregon, for instance. It’s a question I’d also like answered, but the man stays infuriatingly silent.
Mostly. He’s murmuring some sing-song words in Dovlanese as he rubs the rabbit’s ears. It takes me a moment to recognize the lyrics of a traditional children’s lullaby.
Baby, baby, darling baby, time is fleeing faster than a wild badger.
I swear it sounds lovelier in my native tongue. Did the song spring to Dante’s mind because it’s a common song for children, or is it meant as a message for me? I don’t dare look at Bradley for fear my face will give something away.