Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Declan
Iwake up to the sound of rain and the weight of Mia’s head on my chest.
My internal clock says it’s early. Too early for anyone sane to be awake. But I’ve always been an early riser, even when my body’s screaming for more sleep. Old habits from pulling all-nighters in university, then startup life, then building the company from the ground up.
The room is still dark, dawn just beginning to turn the edges of the curtains gray. Mia’s bedroom is smaller than our guest room, the ceiling lower, the walls closer. Her bed is barely big enough for two people, let alone five.
We made it work anyway.
Her hair is everywhere. Dark strands tickling my jaw, tangled across my shoulder. And she’s fast asleep. Her breathing is slow and peaceful, her face relaxed in a way I haven’t seen when she’s awake.
She’s always moving when she’s conscious. Always thinking, planning, worrying. Carrying weight that isn’t hers to carry.
But right now, she’s still.
I let myself have this moment. This quiet, stolen bit of peace before the world intrudes. I replay yesterday in my mind. The way she looked at me in the kitchen, the trust in her eyes when she nodded, the sounds she made when I put my mouth on her.
She tasted like strawberries and cream and coming home.
I’m just relaxing into this new feeling when a sharp thwack echoes through the quiet house.
I freeze, every muscle going tense. Mia stirs against my chest, making a small, sleepy sound in her throat. Knox’s snoring cuts off mid-breath.
Another thwack that sounds like something hitting the front door hard enough to rattle the hinges.
“The fuck,” Knox mutters, his voice rough with sleep.
“Mail slot,” Eli says from the foot of the bed, already moving. He’s awake and alert like someone flipped a switch, unfolding from his uncomfortable position without a wince.
I carefully ease Mia’s head off my chest, replacing myself with a pillow. She makes another sound of complaint but doesn’t wake, just curls into the warmth I left behind.
I follow Eli downstairs, Knox and Rhys right behind me. The sky outside the windows is that strange pre-dawn gray, the rain still coming down in steady sheets.
There’s an envelope on the floor by the door. Official-looking. Eli picks it up, his jaw already tight.
“HOA letterhead,” he says flatly, turning it over. “Hand delivered. No postage.”
“At six in the fucking morning?” Knox growls.
Eli tears it open. I watch his face as he reads, see the muscle in his jaw tick, see his eyes go cold and sharp.
“Well?” Rhys prompts.
Eli hands it to me without a word.
I scan the document. Legal language dressed up to sound official. Violation of HOA bylaws regarding approved occupancy. Excessive overnight guests constituting a change in residency status. Failure to notify HOA of cohabitation arrangements. Moral indecency visible from the street.
At the bottom, in smug, looping handwriting: First warning. Continued violations will result in fines and potential lease termination. —Carol Beechman, HOA President
“She’s trying to evict Mia,” I say, my voice thickening with anger. “Over us staying the night?”
“You’re kidding,” Knox says, snatching the paper from my hand. He scans it, and a wide, shark-like grin spreads across his face. “Oh, this is gold. Did she hire a lawyer or a Puritan?”
“Both, probably,” Rhys mutters, leaning over his shoulder.
“What are you laughing at?”
We all turn.
Mia is standing at the bottom of the stairs, wrapped in an oversized cardigan, her hair still tangled from sleep. She looks soft and rumpled and worried, eyes darting between our expressions.
“What is that?” she asks, her gaze landing on the letter in Knox’s hand.
“Nothing important,” Knox says immediately, but he’s still grinning.
“It’s from Carol,” she says, her face falling. “Isn’t it.”
“Moral indecency.” Rhys grumbles, frowning at the paper. “Like we were fucking on the lawn.”
“Were we supposed to?” Knox asks. “Because I can—”
“Can I see it?” Mia steps closer, a worried frown appearing on her brow that I want to erase immediately.
Knox hesitates, then hands it over. “Read the second paragraph. It’s my favorite.”
I watch her face as she reads. See the exact moment the words sink in. Her expression shutters, shoulders curling inward, and there it is. That awful look of guilt.
“Oh my God…I’m the problem,” she whispers, ignoring the text Knox pointed out. “I’m the problem neighbor.”
“No,” we all say in unison, all trace of humor gone now.
“She’s threatening my lease.” Mia swallows.
“She’s threatening nothing,” Eli’s voice cuts through the air like a blade. He crosses to Mia, taking the letter from her hands and setting it aside. “This isn’t about you. This is about a bored woman with too much power and not enough to do.”
“It’s not legally enforceable, love,” I cross my arms. “HOAs can’t regulate overnight guests unless they stay for fourteen consecutive days. We checked the bylaws before we moved in.”
Mia blinks at me. “You checked?”
“We check everything,” Rhys says. “We’re thorough.”
But Mia’s shoulders are still curled inward, that awful shrinking happening right in front of us. I can see her pulling back, building walls, preparing to make herself smaller.
Eli sees it too. His jaw tightens, and he exchanges a look with me. That silent conversation we’ve perfected over years of working together.
She needs out. Out of this house, out of this neighborhood, out from under Carol’s microscope.
“We’re going out,” Eli says. “Tonight. The city.”
Mia blinks at him. “What?”
“You’ve been cooped up here for days,” he continues. “We’ve all been working non-stop. Carol wants to turn you into her personal project. So we’re leaving. Tonight.”
“I don’t think—”
I step forward, catching her gaze. “Wear the red one.”
“The red one?” Her head snaps toward me.
“Red dress at the back of your closet.”
“How do you know about the red dress?”
“I saw it buried at the bottom of your stuff,” I say simply. “Tags still on. Wear it.”
Pink blooms across her cheeks. “That was—I bought that for—”
“For tonight,” I finish.
She opens her mouth, probably to argue, but Rhys speaks first.
“We’re going,” he says simply. “Question is whether you’re coming with us or we’re dragging you.”
“That’s not much of a choice.”
“No,” Knox agrees, still grinning. “It’s really not.”
By the time evening rolls around, the rain has finally stopped, leaving the air clean and cool. We went back to our house to get ready, giving Mia space to do the same.
I love this part. Getting dressed to go out. The transformation from work mode to...whatever this is.
I’m adjusting my silver cufflinks when Knox appears in my doorway. He’s already dressed in black slacks and a charcoal button-down that makes him look like he’s about to rob a casino or seduce someone. Possibly both.
“You think this is a good idea?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe.
“Getting her out of here? Away from Carol’s bullshit? Yeah. I think it’s a great idea.”
“I meant taking her to Le Roux. That place is intense. Lots of packs. Lots of alphas who’ll look.”
“Let them look.” I turn to face him. “She’s ours. They’ll know it the second we walk in.”
Knox’s grin is sharp and feral. “Yeah. They will.”
Rhys appears behind him, fighting with his tie. The navy fabric is twisted, the knot all wrong, and he looks about two seconds from ripping it off entirely.
“I hate these things,” he mutters, fingers fumbling with the silk.
“Here.” I cross to him, batting his hands away. “Let me.”
He submits with a grumble, tilting his chin up while I fix the knot. The navy suit fits him perfectly. The tie is slightly crooked when I’m done, but it works somehow. Makes him look like exactly what he is: controlled danger in expensive fabric.
“You look good,” I tell him.
“I look like a Fed.”
“You look like the guy the Feds are afraid of,” Knox corrects.
Eli is already downstairs when we descend, immaculate in a charcoal suit. He’s on his phone, handling something with that cool, efficient tone he uses for business. But he looks up when we enter, ending the call with a quick goodbye.
“Car’s here in five,” he says. “Mia ready?”
“Haven’t checked yet,” I answer.
“I’ll get her.” Eli pockets his phone and heads for the door.
We watch through the window as he crosses to Mia’s house, his long strides eating up the distance. He knocks once, then disappears inside.
The minutes stretch. Knox starts pacing. Rhys adjusts his tie again, then forces himself to stop.
Then the door opens.
And Mia steps out.
Fuck.
The red dress is devastating.
The neckline is modest, the hem falls to mid-thigh, but the way it fits her is absolutely sinful. The fabric clings to every curve, moving with her like liquid silk. Like it was painted on.
She’s wearing heels that make her legs look impossibly long. Her hair is down, falling in dark waves over her shoulders. She’s done her lips the same shade as the dress.
Mine. Ours. Keep. The thought slams into me with the force of a freight train.
“Jesus Christ,” Knox breathes beside me.
Eli walks next to her, his hand resting possessively on her lower back as they cross the lawn. Even from here, I can see the tension in her shoulders, the uncertainty in the way she’s moving. She’s nervous.
Good. So am I.
When they reach the porch, Mia hesitates at the door. Eli opens it for her, and she steps inside, her gaze immediately finding mine.
“Hi,” she says, her voice soft.
“Hi yourself,” I manage, my brain trying to catch up to what my eyes are seeing.
She does a small, self-conscious turn. “Too much?”
“Not enough,” Knox says immediately, and she laughs, some of the tension bleeding from her shoulders.
Rhys just stares, his expression unreadable, but his scent thickens in the air enough that all of us respond.
“Turn around,” I say, my voice coming out rough enough that I have to clear my throat.
She does, slowly, and I see the back of the dress.
Oh.