“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you said no.”
She held his gaze a long moment. Then she looked away, out the window at the street below. “I’m not ready for people yet.”
“I know.”
“I’m not ready to smile and pretend I’m fine and listen to everyone tell me they’re sorry for my loss like that means something.”
“I know.”
“And I’m sure as hell not ready to stand in a crowd at a fair and watch everyone else be happy while I—” She stopped. Worked her jaw. “While I’m not.”
Bear crossed the room. He sat on the bed beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched, and he waited. She leaned into him, her weight settling against his side.
“Go with Logan,” she said quietly. “He wants you there. And X probably won’t admit it, but he’ll be glad to see you in the stands.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll be here. Or across the street. I’ll be fine.”
He studied her profile. She wasn’t fine. She wouldn’t be fine for a long time. But she was here, and she was breathing, and she was letting him sit beside her, and that was something.
“Okay,” he said again.
Bear was pulling his jacket on when he heard the trucks. Multiple engines, multiple vehicles. He glanced at Logan. Logan looked back, eyebrows up. Through the front window, Bear watched River’s old pickup pull up to the curb, followed by X’s newer truck, then Boone’s, and more. Doors started opening before the engines cut.
“Oh no,” Greta said from the couch. She’d come downstairs ten minutes ago and claimed the corner spot with Atlas at her feet, settling in for an evening of not going anywhere. Now she was staring out the window like she knew exactly what was happening and wanted no part of it.
River came up the walk first, a man on a mission. X was right behind him, grinning. Naomi and Ghost came next, followed by Jax with Nessie and Oliver. Boone brought up the rear with Jonah and Hatch flanking him, and behind them — Bear had to look twice to confirm — Anson and Maggie.
“They brought Anson,” Logan said, voice somewhere between awe and disbelief. “How did they get Anson to come?”
Bear followed his gaze. Maggie had her arms around Anson, and the confirmed introvert had the look of a man who’d been argued into this on the drive over and was already regretting it.
The front door opened without a knock. River came through like he owned the place, which was typical River behavior, and stopped in the middle of the living room with his hands on his hips.
“Nope,” he announced to the room at large. “Not happening. Get your boots on, Greta. We’re going to the fair.”
Greta stared at him. “I’m not going to the fair.”
“Yes, you are.”
“River—”
“Listen.” River moved closer, dropped into a crouch in front of the couch so they were eye level. His voice went soft. Lost the performative edge. “I know you’re not ready. I know you want to stay here and sit in the dark and be sad. And that’s fine. You’re allowed. But you’re not doing it tonight. Tonight you’re coming with us and you’re going to watch X get thrown off a bull and eat terrible fair food and let Oliver win you a stuffed animal at the ring toss. And you’re going to do it because we care about you and we’re not letting you disappear.”
X appeared at River’s shoulder. “What he said. Except I’m not getting thrown off anything. I’m going to look amazing and you’re going to wish you’d brought a camera.”
“I don’t want to go.” Greta’s voice was flat but there was something underneath it now. Less certain than it had been thirty seconds ago.
Her gaze cut to Bear.Get them out of here.
Bear didn’t move.
She stared at him a beat longer, then turned back to the room.
