Chapter One
Luke
The mountain cabinis way too damn cheerful as I pull into the gravel drive. Patio lights have been strung from the timber porch beams, warm light glows from inside, and I already know, before I even set foot through the doors, that there will be soft music playing and, no doubt, some sort of scented candle or something burning inside.
Holt’s been my buddy—mybrother—most of my life, and if someone told me even a year ago that I’d be about to knock on his door for adinnerpartyof all things, I would have laughed in their face and then punched them in the face.
Holt and I served together. We had each other’s backs in life-or-death situations.We’ve seen some things. Somedarkfucking things. Things that forced us, along with our otherbrothers, to retreat to the wild solitude of Iron Peak. Where we could live our lives alone, only seeing each other when it was strictly necessary.
We don’t havedinner parties.
Only, apparently, now, that’s exactly what we do.
With a sigh and a grunt, I slam the truck door and make my way to the porch of the cabin that shares a lot of similarities to my own, further up the road. And the other three scattered around the mountain.
Holt, Sawyer, Cal, Beck, and I all built them at the same time. Although Sawyer’s has sat mostly empty ever since. I can’t help but wonder if Cal and Beck have been wrangled into thisdinner party,too.But I already know the answer.
As a rule, we didn’t bother each other unless it was an emergency. Like the time I needed Holt to save my daughter from the way too rough for my girl, bar, The Rusty Nail in town, because I was out of town and not expecting a visit from Tessa, who was supposed to be finishing her last semester of college.
“Yeah,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand overmy face. “And look how that turned out.” I lift my fist and bang on the front door of Holt—and Tessa’s—cabin.
I’m still not used to the fact that my baby girl fell in love with a man who is like a brother to me, almost twice her age and much rougher around the edges than I would have wanted for my daughter. It’s been over six months now, and while it’s still strange to see them together, I can’t deny how happy they make each other.
They’re very much in love. Which means, how I feel about it doesn’t matter. Because that’s all I want from the people I love.
What I don’t want are these damn dinner parties.
“Dad!” The door opens, and my daughter pulls me in for a hug.
Okay, maybe I don’t mind them so much since it means I get to see Tessa a lot more often. After her mother and I broke up when she was little, I moved up to the mountain to give everyone space. I know it was the right thing to do at the time, but it meant I didn’t get to see Tessa nearly as often as I would have liked.
We were making up for lost time now.
“You look…good, Tessa,” I grunt. Compliments have never come easy for me, but I’m trying. “Really good.”
If she notices my fumbling attempts, she doesn’t say so. “Thanks, Dad. It’s the mountain air. I swear, it’s amazing up here.”
I follow her into the cabin, and instantly I’m hit with the scent of vanilla and cinnamon. I knew it. A scented candle.
I shake my head a little as I take in the other feminine details that Tessa’s added to the space. I have to admit, the blanket over the back of the couch and the area rug make the space look more like a home. Still, it’s jarring.
Almost as jarring as it is to see my army buddy standing in the kitchen with an apron tied around his waist.
“What on?—”
“It’s called cooking,” Holt cuts me off. “We’re having roasted potatoes, steak, and salad.”
“Sounds good to me,” I reply honestly. All of us guys learned to cook in the military; some of us were better than others. I had a few skills—not that I used them often—but Holt had always been the best cook in our unit.
“Trust me, Dad,” Tessa says with a laugh. “You don’t want me in the kitchen.”She wraps her arms around Holt’s waist while she speaks. “He’s definitely the chef in this relationship.”
I groan and look away when my buddy turns to kiss her. “Can you guys not do that in front of me? I’m happy for you and all. But still…”
“Sorry.” My daughter’s laughter rings out, but at least when I turn around, she’s on the other side of the room, pouring two glasses of wine. She hands one to Holt before bringing me the other one.
I raise a brow at her, but before I have a chance to ask her why she’s not partaking, she rejoins Holt, and he wraps his arm around her shoulder.
“We have something to tell you, Dad.”
