“I am,” she nodded, meeting the woman’s beaming smile. Perfect, even white teeth were shared by the entire clan, and she wondered if the same orthodontist was still in town to give her the same treatment. “Although I’ve not been practicing for nearly as long as Grayson, especially not in civil law. I started out as a public defender, but the burnout rate is pretty high. I wanted to make the switch before I set myself back any further.”
“That is just so smart. Jack, isn’t that so smart? I can’t even imagine what you had to deal with working for the county, meeting your clients with barely any time to prepare and a system rigged against them. Young attorneys are probably on their knees once they leave the justice center, so smart for you to have moved to private practice. Beauty and brains! Total package. You would be perfect for—”
“Sandi.”
His father’s voice was mild and even in tone, but his mother cut off, swallowing down whatever effusive praise she had been about to say next, taking less than the space of a heartbeat to recover, giving her another brilliant smile.
“I’m just so happy you’re here with us today.”
She’d sat at the long table a while later, sipping mimosas and bloody marys, surrounded by a collection of identical-looking men, feeling foolish as a giddy bubble of warmth heated her chest.
“Okay, I need to keep you all straight. So despite being very bossy, Gray is not the oldest—”
“Jackson is the oldest, actually. Gray just doesn’t like to acknowledge that,” Trapp cut in.
“And he’s one with the little boy? Then Grayson, then you.”
Trapp nodded, and she watched as Grayson craned his head back surreptitiously, looking into the room where his father and older brother were currently deep in conversation. They were fiercely competitive, unhealthily so, in her opinion, far beyond the typical competition for sports and academic accolades one outgrew before university.
“And then next is . . .” She glanced at the young man sitting across the table. He looked a few years younger than herself, just as handsome as his older brothers, with a much quieter air.
“Hi, I’m Owen. I’m invisible.” Beside her, Trapp snorted. “But I’m technically not next. That’s Lowell. He was only three pounds when he was born, and he still managed to step on me to get out first.”
“And he’s the one who lives out of the country?”
“Correct,” Grayson confirmed, “He is a trainwreck and is currently wreaking his particular brand of bullshit on Tokyo, stars save them. But he travels constantly. He’s astoundingly talented.” There were several framed examples of his brother’s work hanging in Grayson’s house, and Vanessa agreed with his assessment. “But . . . yeah, trainwreck. He’s both the wreck and the train, simultaneously. A threat to himself and everyone in the vicinity.”
“That’s so mean!” she laughed, pushing against his thigh. “He’s not here to defend himself, counselor.”
“It pains me to admit that this is not Gray being an asshole,” Trapp chuckled with a wince. “Lowell is like . . . if a hurricane had a baby with an earthquake, and that baby puts sand in your gas tank and then throws a tantrum when you accuse them of doing it.”
“Even though he’s still holding the bag of sand and conveniently standing over your car.”
“Call him,” Owen suggested. “Let her see for herself.”
“Isn’t it the middle of the night in Japan?”
Grayson snorted, ignoring her. The phone rang for only a moment or two before the screen was filled with the glittering eyes of a stupidly handsome young man, bearing the same striking resemblance to Grayson as the rest of his brothers, all looking like younger versions of their father.
Lowell talked a mile a minute, was packing for a shoot in Malaysia, seemed entirely unaware of the time, and stood outside on a narrow balcony, a cacophony of fireworks in the background.
“Okay, he is a heartbreaker!” Vanessa exclaimed once the call disconnected. The absent brother had a sparkling, frenetic energy about him, one that wasn’t as uncomfortably intense as Grayson’s older brother Jackson and bearing no resemblance to his own icy aloofness. “You’re all just jealous! I think he’s the cutest one of the bunch, this all makes sense now.”
“Yeah, well, careful what you wish for, rabbit. He usually crashes at my place when he comes into town.”
“Are you talking about Lowell?” Jack Hemming appeared like a towering spector, leaning on the doorframe. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Vanessa, but he’s a monster.”
It was easy to see where all of his sons got their good looks, and if the first several visits to Cambric Creek had confused her about Grayson, meeting his father cleared up most of the ambiguity.
Jack Hemming made her inexplicably nervous. He had a cool confidence and an almost otherworldly air, as though he had ascended this plane of mortal existence and was simply hanging around to bless the small folk with his presence, and although she had never had a thing for older men, had he been the senior partner instead of his son, she likely would have bent over the executive desk sooner, leading to the exact same outcome. He was friendly and terrifyingly charismatic, the sort of person who could convince others to his side with a handful of mildly persuasive words, with a wide smile and shining eyes, but she’d spent enough time around people who excelled at masking to see that behind his smile was the sharp haughtiness she saw every day in his son. His eyes crinkled with his wide smile but never touched them, and she’d had the feeling he was sizing her up the moment her feet first crossed the threshold of his home.
“He’s my son, and I love him, but he’s the one I most wanted to leave at the bus station.”
That time, Vanessa joined in the laughter.
“We had to have two different birthday parties for Lowell and Owen when they were kids. Not two different cakes,” he clarified, “not just different cakes and different presents. Two different parties, on two different days. For both the family and their friends. Because Lowell didn’t want to share his birthday. Can you imagine being a parent at the elementary school and your kid brings home an
invitation to not one but two parties for twin brothers? Who are in their same grade? Two different weekends you now have to earmark to schlepping your kid across town because these hoity-toity werewolf assholes can’t coordinate their kids’ parties to be together?”
“You could have said no?” she offered in between her laughter.
“No, you don’t understand. You can’t say no to him, Nessa,” Grayson clarified. “He’s a malicious, vindictive little gremlin, and if you say no, he’ll put a fork in your microwave. You’ll find out the next time he’s here.”
She wondered if they could tell the heat suffusing her cheeks was from the prospect of him talking about her in the future, or if they would just assume it was from her laughter.
“It’s because you have the most patience with him, Gray,” his father added, pulling out a seat at the table. “That’s why he shows up on your doorstep first. I don’t know how you do it, but better you than me.”
“I got left off the Christmas card the year we were eight because of Lowell.” Owen’s voice was somber, and across the table, Trapp’s shoulders were already shaking in laughter at the story to come.
“And no one realized I was missing until it was too late.”
“This is the story you’re all going to tell at my funeral, isn’t it?” their father sighed.
“So, my mom wanted to do a picture in front of the falls on Main Street, with all the Christmas lights for the card that year,” Trapp began. “We’d never done that sort of thing before, and we never did again.”
“She went all out for it, too.” Jackson had entered the room, grinning when he realized what story was being shared for her benefit. “We had coordinating outfits. Not matching, but coordinated enough to look like we were modeling different looks from the same collection. It took her weeks.”
