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Yet, he was patient, not even rolling his eyes when Brady did his gazillion-questions-per-hour spiel.

You’re being ridiculous to think he could hurt him. Or turn on anyone in the family.

As I stirred a cup of iced tea in the kitchen, I glanced up at Viktor coming into the room. He dropped next to Brady, on the other side of him, and corrected Nikolai’s explanation of why a flag was called on a player.

They’re not like that.

All the Volkovs I’d met were kind to each other. Supportive. I had yet to see any jealousy or meanness. Even Adrik. I didn’t hold a grudge against him despite his initial order to have me killed. He didn’t know me then. None of them did. Alexei was a grump, and he bickered the most with Adrik, but that wasn’t anything alarming, either.

I couldn’t see any of them wanting to take over power. As Paloma explained the other day, it was a direct father to son succession. From Dmitri, the throne of Pakhan would go to Adrik. Then all the brothers. Then the cousins. Until Luka was old enough, it went father to son, then brother to brother, then cousin to cousin. No bad blood showed between the brothers and cousins from what I could tell.

If they were ruthless men to fear, I would feel it. I’d be tense, not relaxed. I’d be studying them all, not hanging out and being comfortable.

I set the iced tea glass down and just watched them, smiling at how both men could tease Brady and get him cracking up.

There’s no ulterior motive where he’s concerned.

Brady leaned against Nikolai, still laughing.

He’s good with him.

I winced, acknowledging how my defenses were weakening. I couldn’t be sure if that change was due to what we’d talked about. After I admitted to Nikolai how I hated that Brady didn’t have a father, or how I’d dreaded that he would’ve had a lousy one if Kaleb hadn’t died, it seemed to encourage too many thoughts of seeing Nikolai as a fatherly figure.

He could be, though.

I had yet to see him cringe or shy away from him. He listened to Brady. Talked with him. Showed him how to do things like with the bike. No clues were popping up to suggest he was faking any of it, and besides, when he held baby Luka or Isabel? He threatened to make my ovaries explode, that rugged, dangerous, strong man at ease to be an uncle and help out with the infants.

“You’ve sighed twice now,” Wren teased as she came into the kitchen.

I smiled at her.

She leaned against the counter, propping her back to the edge of it like I was, and crossed her arms as we looked out at the guys.

My guys.

I was getting hooked on Nikolai being mine. Being mine and Brady’s.

“Brady sure is getting attached,” she commented.

I nodded, more comfortable with talking to her. Mila was too quiet and I respected her preference for distance. Elena and Carina were great but not over as much. Since Nikolai seemed slightly closer to Viktor, with Viktor being the brother next in age to him, I saw Wren more often.

“He is,” I admitted.

She gently nudged my side with her elbow. “Looks like you’re getting attached, too.”

I opened and closed my mouth.

“Doesn’t look like you’ve taken the chance to help yourself to him or anything, but⁠—”

I smirked at her.

She didn’t back down, teasing me with a bigger smile. “You’re so awkward and tense around him, it’s obvious you guys aren’t sleeping together.”

I frowned, kind of hating how badly I wanted to.

“Yet,” she added.

I shrugged, more or less agreeing with her assessment.