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“Have a seat, dear. Tell us all about you. Maybe there’ll be something my daughter doesn’t already know,” Miranda says kindly, teasing Kayla. The look that passes from one woman to the other is full of love and humor, something I can honestly say I’ve never experienced with my own mom. A teeny-tiny knife of jealousy stabs my heart.

“No interrogation,” Cole grunts, though he does lead us over to a couch where he sits directly beside me, our knees touching and his arm thrown over the back to encase me protectively.

I swear everyone’s looking at us like we’re exhibits in a zoo, and unconsciously, I sink into Cole’s side a bit, which makes him pull me in even more. By the time he’s got us situated, we’re pressed together, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, knee to knee, and my shoulder is in front of his chest. I’m one half-scoot away from literally being in his lap, which only makes his family gawk more.

But respecting her son’s grumpy decree, Miranda redirects the conversation. “Fine, well, we were talking about the wedding. Chance and Samantha are days away from saying ‘I do’,” she informs me, politely looping me into the family conversation.

I nod and smile at Samantha. “Congratulations.”

At the same time, Cole informs her, “Got a plus-one now.”

He pats my hip, and I swear I melt quicker than ice on a summer day. But...

“Oh, that’s okay,” I argue. “I’m sure you’ve already done the seating arrangements and caterer numbers. I wouldn’t want to impose or anything, especially with a last-minute addition. I can’t imagine how stressed you must be.Notthat you look stressed,” I correct quickly, horrified at my runaway mouth. “You look beautiful. But weddings are... a lot.”

Cole leans over, and though he’s close to my ear, he doesn’t whisper. Just loud enough for everyone to hear, he says, “I went with you to your family shindig, which was damn near hell, so you can come to mine and save me from them. Fair’s fair.” I jerk my eyes to his, glaring at his rudeness, but stop when I see the spark lighting his blue eyes. I even see the tiny lift of the barest smile. He’s kidding, both about his family and any wedding tit-for-tat situation between us.

But they don’t see that. They see the grumpy asshole and nothing more.

Not catching Cole’s humor in the slightest and most definitely misinterpreting his smile, Samantha interjects, “Damn, Cole! Don’t snarl at her. You’re hard enough to like as it is. Don’t make it harder.” Then, to me, she adds, “Janey, of course you’re welcome. The Vanisher always had a plus-one. We just didn’t think he’d use it. We figured we’d be lucky ifheshowed up.” She throws shade more skillfully than an umbrella, and with a deadly, fake-innocence smile too.

I like it, but considering her target, I don’t like it too. This is going to be complicated.

“I said I’d be there,” Cole grumbles.

Given the disbelieving look Chance is shooting him, I suspect Cole says that about a lot of things and then bails at the last second. Likely for work, but I bet it’s more often that he wants to avoid peopling and they take that as some type of flakiness or commentary on where they rate with him.

He’s as misunderstood here as I am in my own family, but his family is different from mine, and I need to remember that. Mine doesn’t want me other than for a convenient target. Cole’s family loves him. That much is obvious.

They just don’t understand him.

But his mom was visibly thrilled to see him tonight. Kayla encouraged him to call me because she knew it would make him happy, and she wants that for him. Even the brothers whom Cole holds himself apart from are watching me, analyzing whether I’m a good risk or a bad risk for their brother because they care about him. I can’t speak about Charles, since he hasn’t said a word since we walked in, but one asshole out of a family of seven is a pretty good statistic.

They’re not perfect, but no family is. They’re made of flawed people who love each other imperfectly. But sometimes, they’re worth it, like in Cole’s case.

I bet if I can get Cole to the wedding, I can help them all see how amazing he is. Because despite his teasing about wanting to be saved from them, it’s obvious how much he cares for his family too. Every story he’s told about them has made that abundantly clear. He’s proud of them, loves them, and even protects them whether they realize it or not.

“Thank you. I’d love to come,” I tell Samantha, putting my plan Cole: Recognize the Awesomeness into play.

That settled, everyone jumps headfirst into discussing the wedding—what they’re wearing, where they’re supposed to be and at what time, what’s expected of everyone, and more. I sit back and watch, channeling Cole’s surveillance tips to listen and learn. Surprisingly, they’re so interesting, I don’t think I ramble aloud a single time.

“Can I see you in my office before dinner, gentlemen?” Charles says mid-wedding conversation.

Cameron hops up like he was expecting the question. Carter and Chance are slower to rise, both giving kisses to their respective brides—Carter on Luna’s forehead, and Chance to Samantha’s lips, which he then rubs a thumb over with a raised brow. The look that passes between them is hotter than a volcano.

Cole sighs heavily as he squeezes my hand. He doesn’t want to leave me, but I’ll be fine. It’s not like his family is going to behave worse than mine. I’m in no danger of attack, verbal or physical. Or at least I don’t think I am, so I smile up at him encouragingly as he stands. Besides, this’ll give me a chance to move deeper into phase one of my plan.

“Got your bear spray in your purse?” he teases straight-faced.

“Yep. My aim’s dead-on too,” I reply with a smile because we both know that’s not true in the slightest.

When the guys leave, Miranda stands too. “Gracie-girl, let’s go check on dinner. I want to make sure we’ve got your dinosaur nuggets in the oven.”

The child doesn’t look up from the iPad, but she must’ve heard because she robotically stands and somehow follows Miranda from the room without bumping into a single piece of furniture or wall.

Which leaves me with Luna, Samantha, and Kayla. And given the way they’re looking at me, I’m woefully unprepared for this conversation. Maybe I really should’ve brought my bear spray? If not for protection, I could hand them out like party favors and maybe then they’d like me?

“It’s okay, we don’t bite,” Luna reassures me with a smile that reaches her eyes, which are behind thick, black frames that give her a slightly nerdy vibe.

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