Chapter 13
I woke up feeling refreshed for the first time in months, which should have been my first clue something was wrong. My tiny Seattle apartment had never felt this comfortable or… safe? The couch beneath me was not my lumpy secondhand disaster, and the air smelled like expensive leather and… was that paella?
Oh no. Oh, hell no.
I cracked one eye open and immediately wished I hadn’t. The Stone manor’s grand living room spread out before me in all its ridiculous glory—soaring windows framing misty forest views, a massive stone fireplace, and enough tasteful masculine decor to fill an interior design magazine’s “How the Other Half Lives” spread.
And then I felt them. Three enormous, furry bodies pressed against me like the world’s most intimidating security blankets. Shadow’s massive head rested near mine, while Storm and Scout had apparently decided my legs made excellent pillows. As if sensing my awareness, three pairs of eyes—crimson, amber, and electric blue—turned to fix on me with eerie synchronization.
Great. Just great. Not only had I fallen asleep in the Stone brothers’ house like some swooning damsel, but I’d apparently been cuddling with their suspiciously wolflike dogs while doing it. The events of the morning came rushing back—the shower incident, the towel debacle, my embarrassing sprint through Marcus’ bedroom…
Maybe if I played dead, they’d lose interest? I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to regulate my breathing. Totally asleep. Nothing to see here. Just a completely normal guy having a completely normal nervous breakdown on your completely normal mansion couch.
“I can see you blushing, sleeping beauty.”
Damn it. I opened my eyes to find Caleb leaning against the doorframe, trademark smirk firmly in place. The youngest Stone brother looked unfairly amused.
“Please,” I whispered, trying not to disturb the furry trinity surrounding me, “can you maybe call off your guard dogs?”
“But they were having such a nice nap with you.” Caleb’s grin widened. “Shadow hasn’t left your side for hours. I think he’s in love.”
Hours? I jerked my head toward the ornate clock on the mantle. Three p.m. I’d been asleep for five hours ?
“Oh God,” I groaned, mortification setting in. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Five hours of quality cuddle time,” Caleb confirmed cheerfully. “You needed it. Though I’m a bit jealous the dogs got all the attention.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but footsteps on the stairs made me freeze. Derek appeared first, his massive frame filling the doorway. The middle Stone brother’s eyes locked on me immediately, something possessive flashing in their depths.
“Look who’s finally awake,” he rumbled, and I swear the dogs’ tails started wagging in perfect sync.
“I’m so sorry.” I tried to sit up, but Shadow pressed closer, effectively pinning me in place. “I didn’t mean to pass out on your couch and… commandeer your pets?”
“They chose you,” Marcus’ voice came from behind Derek, and suddenly all three brothers were there, watching me with an intensity that made my face burn. “They have excellent taste.”
There was something… different about their dynamic. Some underlying tension I couldn’t quite place. Marcus looked particularly smug, while Derek kept shooting him irritated glances. Caleb was practically vibrating with suppressed laughter.
“Did I…” I hesitated, trying to read the room. “Did I miss something?”
“Just a small dispute over some pillows.” Caleb grinned, earning him a death glare from Marcus. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Pillows?” I echoed, then winced as I remembered my earlier naked rampage through Marcus’ bedroom. “Oh God, please tell me those weren’t, like, priceless antique pillows I was using as shields. They felt expensive. Everything in this house feels expensive. I probably destroyed some centuries-old Stone family heirloom pillow collection, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t,” Marcus cut in smoothly, though his satisfaction was practically radiating off him. “Everything is exactly where it should be.”
Derek muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “not everything ” while Caleb’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“I feel like I’m missing something important here,” I said slowly, looking between the three brothers. Their matching innocent expressions did nothing to ease my suspicion.
Shadow chose that moment to stretch, his massive body somehow managing to press me even further into the couch. The movement made something in my hip tingle, and I had to bite back a gasp. What was with that spot lately?
“Tía Maria’s been keeping your paella warm,” Derek said, smoothly changing the subject. Though his eyes lingered on where Shadow was basically using me as a body pillow.
“Oh God, food.” The mention of Maria’s cooking made my stomach growl embarrassingly loud. “I can’t believe I slept through lunch. I never sleep that deeply, not even in my own bed.”
Something passed between the brothers at that comment—another one of those loaded looks I couldn’t decipher. Marcus’ expression turned particularly intense.
“You feel safe here,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“I…” The weird thing was, he wasn’t wrong. Despite the strange circumstances, the massive dogs, and three intimidating men who kept looking at me like I was some kind of puzzle they were dying to solve, I did feel safe. Which made absolutely no sense. “I can’t believe I slept through lunch,” I said quickly, deliberately changing the subject as guilt crept in. “Maria went to all that trouble—”
As if summoned by her name, Maria bustled in carrying a tray that made my mouth water instantly. “Ah, mi angelito (my little angel) is awake! Good, good. You missed lunch, but we’ll fix that right now.”
She shooed Scout and Storm away with practiced efficiency, though Shadow just shifted enough to let me sit up properly. The massive black dog’s head ended up in my lap, his eyes daring anyone to make him move.
“Coffee, fresh empanadas , and jamón ibérico on crusty bread,” she announced, setting the tray on the coffee table. “The empanadas are still warm from the oven—Jorge’s special recipe with beef and potatoes. To tide you over until dinner. Jorge and I, we are preparing a proper feast!”
“A feast?” I squeaked. “That’s really not necessary—”
“Nonsense! We’ll have gambas al ajillo, patatas bravas, the best paella in Washington—Jorge is very proud of his saffron rice and…” She rattled off what sounded like enough Spanish dishes to feed a small army.
“Tía Maria.” Marcus’ voice held warm amusement. “You’ll overwhelm him.”
She clicked her tongue at him. “Too skinny, all of him. Needs feeding up.” Her accent thickened with determination. “Now drink, carino. My special coffee blend, you’ll love it.”
She bustled off, muttering in rapid Spanish about more appetizers and proper portion sizes.
I picked up the coffee cup, inhaling the rich aroma. The first sip was a revelation—strong but smooth, with just the right balance of cream and coffee. “Okay, this is amazing.”
“Tía Maria’s coffee is legendary,” Caleb said, dropping onto the couch beside me and snagging a churro. “She refuses to tell anyone her secret blend.”
Derek claimed the armchair to my right while Marcus settled into the one opposite, boxing me in with casual precision. The churros smelled incredible, but I hesitated, suddenly aware of how domestic this felt.
“Eat,” Marcus commanded softly.
I bit into a churro, and holy hell, it was like biting into a cloud of cinnamon-sugar perfection. The chocolate sauce for dipping was dark and rich, probably imported from Spain knowing this household. Shadow’s tail thumped against the couch in approval as I made an embarrassingly happy noise.
“Good?” Marcus asked, his eyes tracking my every movement.
I nodded, too busy having a religious experience with Spanish fried dough to form words. Who knew being kidnapped by territorial dogs and their ridiculously attractive owners would lead to the best snacks of my life?
“Jorge!” Maria’s voice carried from the kitchen. “ El sofrito needs more garlic!”
“More garlic?” Jorge’s protest was immediate. “ Mujer ! If I add more garlic, the shrimp will need therapy!”
“Therapy? Bah! My abuela’s recipe—” I recognized the word for grandmother from my Hispanic friends in college.
“Your abuela was not cooking for—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Jorge Stone!” Maria said, her accent thickening with irritation, and Jorge immediately backed down.
I couldn’t help it. The bickering, the absurdly good food, three gorgeous men watching me eat churros while their massive dogs acted like oversized lapdogs… I started giggling. The giggle turned into a laugh, and suddenly, I couldn’t stop.
“Something funny, little mate?” Derek’s voice was gruff but warm.
“This is just…” I gestured vaguely at everything. “Surreal? I mean, a week ago I was eating cup ramen in my empty apartment in Seattle, and now I’m having gourmet Spanish snacks in a mansion while Jorge and Maria argue about whether too much garlic will traumatize the shrimp.”
“You’ll get used to them,” Caleb said, then seemed to catch himself. “I mean, they’re always like this. The great garlic debates of Stone Manor are legendary.”
Storm chose that moment to rest his massive head on my knee, giving me the most soulful puppy-dog eyes I’d ever seen on something that looked more wolf than dog.
“No,” I said firmly, holding my empanada out of reach. “Those eyes might work on normal people, but I am immune to—” He whined, just a little. “Oh fine. Just a tiny bit of the meat.” I carefully picked out a small piece of beef, avoiding the pastry. “But if Maria catches me feeding you people food, I’m throwing you all under the bus.”
“Traitor,” Derek muttered to his dog, but his eyes were soft as he watched me share the morsel.
“He’s not the only traitor.” Caleb snickered, nodding at Shadow who hadn’t budged an inch from my lap. “I’ve never seen him this attached to anyone. Usually, he’s as stuck up as Marcus.”
Marcus arched an eyebrow. “I prefer the term ‘selective.’”
“You prefer the term ‘control freak,’” Derek countered, but there was fondness in his gruff tone.
The banter felt… nice. Comfortable in a way that should have been impossible with three virtual strangers. Even their dogs’ presence felt natural now, though I’d literally been screaming and running from them a few hours ago.
“Dios mío!” Maria’s voice made us all jump. She stood in the doorway, hands on hips, looking utterly scandalized. “You’ve finished all the food already? And no one called me to bring more? No, no, no. Wait right there.”
She disappeared in a whirlwind of Spanish muttering. I could have sworn I heard “…should have known better, growing boys eat like wolves, need more food from the start…”
I felt a twinge of guilt because she wasn’t entirely wrong. I did seem to have a bottomless pit for a stomach lately, always hungry no matter how much I ate. Like a wolf, ironically enough. I almost laughed at that thought—here I was, terrified of wolves but apparently sharing their appetite. Though I doubted wolves had a weakness for gourmet Spanish cuisine and perfectly crafted churros.
“Should I be worried?” I asked, watching the doorway with trepidation.
“Always,” Caleb grinned. “When Tía Maria decides to feed someone, resistance is futile.”
Sure enough, she reappeared moments later with another plate piled high with fresh churros and empanadas.
“Maria,” I protested weakly, “I couldn’t possibly—”
“You’re too thin,” she declared, setting the plate firmly in front of me. “How can you run from lobos—life’s problems when you’re all skin and bones? Eat.”
The brothers tensed slightly, but I was too distracted by the food and started eating again.
Maria beamed. “Good boy. Now, I must go make sure Jorge doesn’t ruin my grandmother’s paella recipe with his ‘modern interpretations.’” She said the last words like they were a personal insult to Spanish cuisine.
“I heard that!” Jorge’s voice boomed from the kitchen. “Just because your abuela cooked like it was 1862 doesn’t mean—”
“Bah! 1862?” Maria’s outraged gasp echoed back. “That recipe won the Valencia competition three years ago!”
“Against other abuelas! Where was the innovation? The creativity?”
I nearly choked on my empanadas trying not to laugh. Shadow’s head lifted slightly, giving me what I swear was a concerned look.
“Speaking of household disasters,” I said, remembering my own cottage crisis, “what happened with the pipe? Did the plumber—”
“All handled,” Derek cut in smoothly. “Won’t be a problem anymore.”
“Really?” The relief that flooded through me was embarrassing. “Thank God. I was worried I’d go home to find my cottage turned into an indoor swimming pool.”
Something dark flickered across Derek’s face at the word ‘home,’ but Caleb quickly jumped in. “Since you’re actually awake now, want to see the grounds? It’s perfect outside.”
He was right. Through the massive windows, I could see sunshine streaming through the trees, creating that magical Pacific Northwest afternoon glow. “That… actually sounds nice. I mean, as long as there aren’t any wolves in your woods.” I grinned, then added, “Or faeries. This place looks exactly like where some fairy-tale creature would lure unsuspecting victims.”
The brothers exchanged another one of those weird looks they kept giving each other, but I was getting used to their quirks by now. God, that couch was dangerously comfortable.
“I’ll take you around,” Derek offered, a bit too quickly.
“I’m coming too!” Caleb bounced up. “There’s this amazing view by the lake that—”
“Someone should—” Marcus interrupted, checking his buzzing phone with a frown. “I have to take this.”
“Duty calls?” I asked sympathetically.
His eyes met mine, intense enough to make me shiver. “Unfortunately. Don’t let these two lead you into trouble.”
“Us?” Caleb pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “We would never.”
“Be back before dinner!” Maria called after us as we headed for the French doors. “Six o’clock sharp!”
“Sí, Tía Maria,” Caleb sang out with a cheeky grin.
“So, how are you all related exactly?” I asked as we stepped onto the terrace. “I mean, Maria and Jorge are obviously Spanish, but you three…” I gestured vaguely at their distinctly American appearance.
“Maria’s our great-aunt through marriage,” Derek explained. “She moved here from Valencia when she married our great-uncle Thomas about thirty years ago.”
“And Jorge is our cousin—Uncle John and Aunt Carmen’s son,” Caleb added, his usual bounce returning. “His mom’s Spanish too. So technically our cousin, but he’s been bossing us around the kitchen since we were kids. Pretty sure he was born with a wooden spoon in his hand.”
That explained so much about the family dynamic—the comfortable bickering, the way Maria mothered everyone, how Jorge could get away with sassing three intimidating men who made corporate CEOs nervous.
“Come on,” Derek said, guiding me down the stone steps. “There’s a path around the lake that’s perfect this time of day.”
I hesitated at the tree line, my usual anxiety about forests creeping up my spine. The woods had always meant danger in my mind—probably thanks to my mother’s paranoia about them. But Derek’s hand was warm on my lower back, and somehow the massive presence of the brothers on either side of me made the shadows seem less threatening.
All three dogs fell into formation around us—Shadow to my left, Storm ranging ahead, and Scout bouncing between us like an oversized puppy. I found myself unconsciously stepping closer to Derek whenever the trees grew denser, though I tried to play it off as avoiding roots and branches.
The afternoon sun filtered through ancient trees, casting dappled shadows across a path that looked like something out of a fairy tale. Or a horror movie, my anxious brain helpfully supplied.
“Should I be leaving breadcrumbs?” I joked, trying to mask my nervousness with humor. “This is definitely how every story about people disappearing into magical forests starts.”
Caleb laughed, but I caught Derek shooting him a warning look. Weird.
“Seriously, though,” I said, trying not to trip over Scout who kept circling my legs excitedly, “this property is incredible. How many acres is it?”
“A few thousand,” Derek said casually, like he wasn’t talking about owning half a forest.
“A few thousand ?” I squeaked. “That’s not a property, that’s a small country. Do you have your own postal code too?”
Caleb snickered. “No, but we do have our own—” Derek cleared his throat loudly. “…hiking trails. Lots of hiking trails.”
The path wound through towering pines, their branches creating a natural archway overhead. Everything smelled of earth and pine needles and something wild I couldn’t quite place. It should have made me nervous—my usual reaction to anything remotely woodsy was full-blown panic—but with the brothers and their dogs flanking me, I felt oddly secure. It was strange; for the first time in my life, the forest didn’t feel like it was waiting to swallow me whole.
But then Scout darted into the bushes after something, making me jump. My heart leaped into my throat—because seriously, who knew what could be hiding in these woods? Mom’s warnings about forest dangers echoed in my head.
“Just a squirrel,” Derek assured me, his hand settling briefly on my lower back to steady me. The touch sent an odd tingle through my hip, right where that weird scar was. “Scout thinks he’s a mighty hunter, but mostly, he just entertains the wildlife.”
“Unlike Storm and Shadow?” I gestured to the other two dogs, who moved with decidedly more predatory grace. Their presence was oddly comforting—like having my own personal security detail against whatever monsters my imagination conjured in the shadows between the trees.
“They take after their owners.” Caleb grinned, then yelped when Derek smacked the back of his head.
The path opened up to reveal a stunning view of a lake, its surface gleaming like polished silver in the afternoon sun. An elegant boat dock stretched out over the water, and I could see what looked like a private beach curving around one side. The knot of tension in my chest loosened as we emerged from the forest into the open space.
“Okay, this is just showing off now,” I said, but I couldn’t hide my awe. Relief made me giddy, or maybe it was just the spectacular view. “Do you water ski? Please tell me you water ski. I need mental images of serious businessman Marcus wiping out dramatically.”
“We do, actually,” Caleb said, moving closer with that dangerous smile of his. “I could teach you, if you want. I’m a much better instructor than Marcus—oh man, there was this one time he tried to teach Miguel to waterski—” A distant crack of branches made me flinch.
Derek’s hand was instantly on my lower back again. “Just deer,” he murmured, but he kept his hand there, warm and steady. I tried to ignore how naturally I leaned into his touch.
“You okay?” Caleb asked, suddenly serious. “We can head back—”
“No, I’m fine,” I insisted, forcing a smile. “Just jumpy. Mom was… kind of intense about forests. Probably why I ended up being such a city kid.”
We walked along the lake’s edge, the path mercifully clear of dense undergrowth. Still, every rustle made me twitch, and I drifted closer to Derek with each step. If he noticed, he didn’t comment, just adjusted his stride to match mine.
“The dock’s newer,” Caleb said, clearly trying to distract me. “We rebuilt it last summer after—” Another crack, louder this time, and I practically plastered myself against Derek’s side.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, mortified, trying to step away. But Derek’s arm had somehow wound around my waist, holding me close.
“Don’t apologize,” he growled softly. The rumble in his chest vibrated through me, and suddenly I was very aware of how solid he felt, how easily he could…
A sharp pain shot through my ankle. I must have stepped wrong, distracted by Derek’s proximity. I stumbled, but before I could fall, Derek swept me up like I weighed nothing.
“Put me down!” I squeaked, face burning. “I just twisted it a little—”
“Humor me,” Derek rumbled, and oh God, his voice was right by my ear. I could feel the heat radiating off him, smell something wild and masculine that made my head spin.
Caleb appeared on our other side, brows furrowed with concern. “We should get him back to the house.”
“I can walk,” I protested weakly, but Derek’s arms tightened.
“Sure you can,” he said, amusement rumbling through his chest. “But why should you?”
The walk back was… interesting. Derek carried me like I was precious cargo, not some awkward burden. The dogs formed a protective circle around us, and even the forest sounds seemed less threatening. I told myself it was just the ankle making me lightheaded, not the way Derek’s thumb absently stroked my side or how Caleb kept shooting us heated looks that made my stomach flip.
“You know,” I said, trying to break the charged silence, “this is going in my diary. ‘Dear Diary, today I got carried through the woods by a mountain disguised as a man while his brother looked like he wanted to—’” I cut myself off, face flaming.
“Wanted to what?” Caleb’s voice had dropped an octave, and suddenly the air felt electric.
“Nothing,” I squeaked. “Just… nothing. Hey, look, we’re almost back! You can put me down now.”
“Not happening,” Derek growled, and was it my imagination or did he pull me closer?
The manor came into view, and I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed. My ankle barely hurt anymore, but I didn’t say anything. And if I pressed my face into Derek’s neck, breathing in that intoxicating scent? Well, I could always blame that on forest-induced anxiety.
Right?
“Hey!” a friendly voice called out. A man emerged from the gardens, dirt smudged on his jeans and work gloves tucked into his back pocket. He looked a few years older than me, maybe mid to late twenties, and though we shared a similar slight build, his was clearly shaped by actual physical labor instead of my bookstore-dwelling lifestyle.
“Miguel,” Caleb greeted him. “Thought you were working the north section today?”
“Anna mentioned seeing deer damage near the roses, so I…” Miguel trailed off, taking in the scene—me being carried by Derek while Caleb hovered protectively. “Everything okay?”
“Just a twisted ankle,” I said quickly, face heating up again. “They’re being ridiculous about it.”
“You must be Kai,” Miguel said, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Mamá’s been talking about you since lunch. Something about being too skinny and needing proper feeding?”
“Your mom’s already on a mission to feed me into submission,” I said.
“That’s Mamá,” Miguel said fondly. “Never met a person she didn’t want to feed and fuss over. Anyway, I should get back to work. Mamá will kill me if anything happens to her prize roses.” His expression softened. “Though Anna’s been helping me tend them lately.”
“Anna?” I asked, curious about these glimpses of the manor’s other residents.
“My girlfriend,” he said, looking adorably smitten. “She’s one of the maids here. You’ll probably meet her soon—she’s usually helping Mamá terrorize the kitchen.”
“Speaking of which,” Caleb cut in, “we should get Kai inside before Tía Maria sends out a search party.”
“Good point.” Miguel chuckled. “Nice meeting you, Kai. Try not to let these three mother-hen you to death.”
As Miguel headed back to the gardens, I caught him muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “…finally found him,” but before I could ask, Derek was moving again, carrying me up the manor steps like some kind of fairy-tale prince.
Except in fairy tales, the prince usually wasn’t quite so… possessive. And there weren’t two other princes watching with equally heated gazes.
Right?