Page 31 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

Fletcher’s mouth twitches again. “How’d that go?”

I grin. “I told ’em I was already in a committed relationship.”

Hank’s eyes widen. “You are?”

I jerk my chin toward Bolt, who is now sniffing under a shelf, hunting treasure. “Yep. Me and him. Very serious. Very monogamous.”

Hank laughs, loud and bright. Fletcher shakes his head, but there’s warmth in it.

It hits me then. How easy this is. How normal it feels to walk in here and fall into the rhythm as if I’ve never been away.

That’s the dangerous part.

Because easy makes you forget you’re supposed to keep moving.

I pull the stack of postcards from my pocket and set them on the bench. “Got new ones for the tin.”

Fletcher’s eyes flick down, faint interest showing. Hank immediately reaches for them with grabby hands.

“Hey, hey,” I say, slapping his fingers away. “Those are curated.”

“Curated?” Hank scoffs. “They’re postcards.”

“They’re memories, kid.”

Hank rolls his eyes. “You’re such a softie.”

“That’s why everybody loves me,” I say sweetly.

Fletcher reaches over and flips through the top few, pausing at one from a beach town in Florida. “You stop long enough to rest?”

“I slept,” I say. “Does that count?”

He gives me a look that says you’re going to die early out of spite, but he doesn’t push.

That’s Fletcher. Quiet concern. No fuss.

Hank props his elbows on the bench. “So, you hear about Wayne’s new nanny?”

I pause, fingers hovering over my postcards.

“Nanny?” I echo.

Fletcher’s gaze shifts, and his expression changes slightly.

“Yeah,” Hank says with a smirk. “She started today.”

“Mm,” I murmur. “Did she now?”

“Her name’s June,” Hank continues. “She’s…” He glances at Fletcher, grinning. “Nice.”

“That woman must be brave,” I mutter. “Livin’ with Wayne.”

Hank laughs. “She doesn’t seem scared of much.”

Fletcher’s gaze drops back to his work. “She didn’t look scared. Just tired. Like she’s been through it.”

I know that look. I’ve worn it.