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For the next thirty minutes, Graham, Simon, Roan, Jase, and Nash laid out everything. The flowers, the texts, the investigation into my London stalker, and the security measures they were putting in place.

“So, you think it's the same guy?” Dad asked.

“We don't know yet,” Simon said. “But we're not taking any chances.”

Seth crossed his arms. “We want to be part of this investigation.”

“No,” I said immediately. “Seth, please. You'll just make things more complicated.”

“Our sister is being stalked, and you think we're not going to get involved? For fuck’s sake, you already have half of Jasper Creek right here.”

“You're going to trust us to handle it,” Graham said firmly. “Joy doesn't need the added stress of worrying about your safety, too.”

“Our safety?” Randy laughed harshly. “We can take care of ourselves.”

“Against a stalker who's already proven he's willing to use a knife?” Nash spoke up for the first time. “This isn't a bar fight, gentlemen. This is someone who's potentially unstable and definitely dangerous.”

“Which is why we’re going to be involved. Joy’s already been wounded once; it’s not going to happen again,” Seth said stubbornly.

Dad held up a hand. “Boys, let me think about this.”

“There's nothing to think about,” Randy said. “Joy's in danger. We’re in.”

“Randy's right,” Seth agreed.

I looked at Graham, seeing my own resignation reflected in his eyes. There was no stopping them.

“Fine,” Dad said finally. “But you follow their lead. These men were special operations, and they know what they’re doing.”

Seth looked like he'd swallowed something sour, but he nodded.

Now that the heavy part of the conversation was over, I got up and grabbed the half-demolished platter of brownies off the table.

Good thing I’d baked a double batch.

I went into the kitchen and got three Tupperware containers and handed one to Randy, Seth, and Dad.

“You call us any time, day or night. I don’t care if it is just a squirrel that scares you, you got it?” Seth said as he kissed my cheek good-bye.

“I promise.”

Soon they were all leaving, with Jase complaining that he wasn’t leaving with brownies. After he mentioned his eight-year-old twins at home, I immediately loaded him up, while Graham frowned.

As he shut the door on the last man, he turned to me, still frowning.

“What?” I said, crossing my arms.

“There are hardly any brownies left.”

“At least you’re no longer worried that my brothers are going to kill you.”

He pulled me close and threaded his fingers through my hair. “Small mercies. How are you feeling about all this?”

I sighed and decided to tell him the truth. “Like I want to run away and hide.” I looked up at him. “Did you really ask my dad for permission to court me?”

His cheeks flushed slightly. “Old-fashioned, I know.”

He kissed me then, soft and sweet and full of promise.