Page 69 of Forged

They were happy, though. They’d been incredibly happy since everything between them had been sorted six weeks before. Even though Nick’s mum continued to be a thorn in all their sides as she continued her campaign to take Nick and Raina’s kids at the same time as she refused to babysit anymore.

Fortunately for Bax and Nick, the entire family was invested in raising Raina’s kids now. Even him, though he still refused to change nappies.

“And the winner is…Nick Turner for his stunning unicorn sculpture!” the man on the podium declared at last.

Everyone cheered. Nick looked shocked. Bax jumped up and down, then threw his free arm around Nick to hug him. Jordan got in on the action, and within seconds they were one big, domestic hug.

Rafe laughed and shook his head. Cousin Baxter certainly had gotten his happy ending. And good for him. The whole family was so proud of the way he’d stepped up to defend Nick and bring him over to the Hawthorne family dark side.

He chuckled at his metaphor and continued on, looking for someone who might want a little company of the horizontal kind. If worse came to worst, he could always head into London to any number of the clubs owned by The Brotherhood.

That was an appealing thought, and he was just about to turn around and head back to the house when his phone buzzed. He took it from his back pocket, then frowned as an American number flashed on the screen.

Usually he didn’t take calls from unknown numbers, but the plus one had him curious, so he answered with a confused, “Hello?”

“Hello, Rafe?” a familiar, American voice asked in return.

“Yes.” Rafe frowned and stepped off the path into the shade of a spreading tree. “Who is this?”

There was a long pause before the voice said, “It’s Jake Mathers.”

Anger, jealousy, and yes, a spike of arousal jolted through Rafe, making him frown and tense up. Jake Mathers was the bastard who had undercut him at every step of his time in residency at the Corning Museum of Glass last fall. He was a fellow glass-blower and had had the nerve to upstage him.

“Jake,” he said, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes, as if Jake was standing in front of him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a long-distance call in the middle of a May afternoon?”

Jake blew out a breath that said he knew just how happy Rafe was to hear from him.

Then he shocked the sunshine out of Rafe by saying, “I need your help. Would you marry me?”