Chapter 7
Ellie
Wade comes through Wyatt’s front door like he’s been living off trail mix and pure attitude for fourteen days.
His pack hits the floor with a heavy thud, snow dusting off his boots, beard thicker, hair wild, cheeks wind-burned like the mountain chewed on him and spit him back out. He takes one step into the cabin, then freezes like he’s hit an invisible wall.
His eyes sweep the room—me in the kitchen, Wyatt at the table—and his face does something between confusion and betrayal.
“Why are you—” Wade’s gaze drops to my hand.
The ring.
Then it snaps to Wyatt’s hand.
Then back to my face, like he’s hoping I’ll laugh and tell him it’s a prank.
“No,” he says, flat and horrified. “No.”
I set the knife down slowly because the last thing I need is a blade in my hand when my brother looks like he’s about to lose his mind.
“Hi, Wade,” I say.
Wyatt doesn’t flinch. He just lifts his coffee mug like this is a normal Tuesday and Wade didn’t just walk in on a plot twist.
“Welcome back,” Wyatt says.
Wade stares at him like he’s seeing a ghost. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”
Wyatt takes a slow sip. “Depends what you think it is.”
Wade’s eyes widen. “Oh my God.”
My brother drops his pack again like he didn’t drop it hard enough the first time. “Absolutely not.”
“Wade,” I warn, but my voice is already tight because I can feel the storm coming off him.
He points at my hand like it personally offended him. “Ellie. What the hell happened?”
“A lot,” I say.
Wade’s gaze flicks around the cabin like he expects an explanation to be taped to the wall. “I’m gone for two weeks and you—” He gestures wildly between me and Wyatt. “You married him?”
Wyatt’s brows lift. “Don’t say it like it’s a tragedy.”
“Shut up,” Wade snaps.
Wyatt doesn’t blink. “No.”
I inhale slowly. “Wade, you were off grid. I couldn’t—”
“I have a satellite—” Wade starts.
Wyatt cuts him off, calm as a guillotine. “You left it at home.”
Wade goes still. “How do you know that?”
I lift my chin. “Because I told him.”
Wade’s eyes snap to me, and for a second something else flashes there—guilt, maybe—before his anger surges back to the surface.
“So you told Wyatt but not me,” he bites out.
“I couldn’t reach you,” I say, forcing my voice steady. “I tried.”
Wade scoffs. “So your solution was to marry my best friend?”
“It was not my ‘solution,’” I snap, heat rising. “It was a decision I made because I needed help and you were not here.”
Wade’s jaw tightens. “And you didn’t think I deserved to know?”
Wyatt’s chair scrapes as he stands, tall and controlled, the room suddenly smaller with him on his feet. “You weren’t available.”
Wade whips toward him. “Don’t you dare—”
Wyatt doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t have to. “Look at her.”
Wade pauses, eyes flicking back to me like he has no choice.
Wyatt’s voice stays low. “You see her ring and you’re mad. You didn’t see her outside her shop with foreclosure papers on the window and nowhere to go.”
The words land hard in my chest.
Wade’s face shifts. “Foreclosure?”
My throat tightens. “Graham.”
Wade’s expression turns ugly instantly. “That asshole.”
“Yeah,” I say, bitter. “That asshole.”
Wyatt steps closer, angling his body slightly between me and Wade like he’s instinctively shielding. He doesn’t touch me—just stands there, solid, a wall I didn’t realize I’d started leaning on.
“He changed the locks,” Wyatt says. “Restricted her accounts. Accelerated the foreclosure. Then he followed her to my cabin.”
Wade’s eyes sharpen, fury building. “He what?”
My stomach twists as the memories flash—orange notice on the glass, the taste of panic, Graham’s text: You’re welcome.
“He’s trying to shut down Devil’s Kiss,” I say quietly.
Wade’s voice goes lethal. “I’m going to kill him.”
Wyatt’s mouth tilts. “Take a number.”
Wade rounds on him. “You don’t get to be casual about this.”
Wyatt’s gaze holds, steady and cold. “I’m not casual. I’m contained.”
Wade jabs a finger toward Wyatt’s chest. “You went behind my back.”
Wyatt catches Wade’s wrist mid-jab, fast as a snap. Not rough—controlled. A boundary.
“Don’t,” Wyatt says.
Wade yanks free, eyes blazing. “Don’t tell me what to do in my own sister’s life.”
Wyatt’s jaw ticks. “She’s my wife.”
Silence drops like a weight.
My pulse is loud in my ears.
Wade’s eyes dart to me again, and I can see the war in his face—anger, loyalty, fear, and that protective brother instinct that’s always been both comforting and suffocating.
I step forward, shoulders squared. “I married him.”
Wade’s mouth opens, closes, opens again. “Why didn’t you call me the second Graham started pulling this?”
A bitter laugh slips out before I can stop it. “Because you were gone.”
“I’m gone all the time,” he snaps, desperation under the anger now. “That doesn’t mean—”
“It meant it this time,” I cut in, voice sharper, hands curling into fists inside Wyatt’s too-big sleeves.
“I was standing outside my shop locked out of my own life. My accounts were frozen. I couldn’t get my clothes.
I couldn’t get my paperwork. I couldn’t get in to save my inventory. I had nowhere to go except… home.”
Wade stills.
The word home lands between us like a bruise.
“You know what ‘home’ is for me,” I add, quieter now. “It’s my mother telling me I should’ve gone to law school. It’s my father looking at me like I proved him right. It’s them smiling while I fall.”
Wade’s throat works. He looks away for half a second, like he can’t stand the picture.
Wyatt’s voice cuts in, calm and unfiltered. “Look.”
Wade snaps his gaze back to him, still angry. “Don’t—”
Wyatt doesn’t let him interrupt. “You weren’t here. She was in trouble. I stepped up. I protected her. You should be thanking me.”
Wade stares at him, chest heaving.
Then his eyes shift to me again, and something in his expression changes—like the anger finally hits a wall and the truth leaks through.
Guilt.
Real guilt.
His shoulders sag a fraction. “Ellie…”
I blink hard. “Don’t.”
“I knew he was an asshole,” Wade says, voice rougher now. “I knew. And I still left.”
I swallow, throat burning. “You didn’t know it would get this bad.”
“I should’ve,” he says immediately, like he can’t stand hearing himself make excuses. “I told myself you were fine. I told myself you had your shop and your friends and you didn’t need me hovering.”
“Like a brother?” I challenge softly.
Wade’s jaw clenches. “Like a brother.”
Wyatt’s presence at my side stays steady, but he doesn’t speak. He lets Wade have this. For once, he’s not trying to control the room. He’s just there—solid, watching, making sure I don’t crumble.
Wade looks at Wyatt and mutters, begrudging, “You did good.”
Wyatt’s mouth tilts. “I know.”
Wade snorts despite himself, then turns back to me. “I’m sorry.”
The words hit me harder than the fight did.
My throat tightens. “Wade…”
“I’m sorry I left you alone to deal with him,” Wade says, voice cracking just slightly on the last word. “I should’ve been here.”
I don’t let myself hesitate. I step into him and wrap my arms around his chest, because he’s my brother and he’s frustrating and he loves me like a mountain—quiet, constant, too heavy sometimes, but always there when it counts.
Wade hugs me back hard, like he’s trying to make up for two weeks in one squeeze.
Wyatt clears his throat behind me. “Easy. She’s pregnant.”
I jerk back, eyes flashing. “I’m not—”
Wade’s head snaps toward Wyatt. “Don’t fuck with me.”
Wyatt’s grin turns wicked. “Oh, I’m going to.”
Wade’s face goes dead serious like he’s hearing a threat. “Don’t.”
I laugh—an actual laugh this time—even as I swipe at my eyes so neither of them can see.
Wade looks down at my ring again, the anger finally fading into stunned acceptance. “So… courthouse wedding.”
I exhale. “Courthouse wedding.”
Wade shakes his head like he’s trying to reboot. Then he looks at Wyatt, and his voice goes softer. “There’s no better brother-in-law I could ask for than my best friend.”
Wyatt’s expression flickers—something warm, quickly buried. “Yeah?”
Wade points at him. “And obviously you’ve got good taste. You chose me as a best friend all these years.”
I snort. Wyatt actually laughs, low and real.
“That’s what you took from this?” Wyatt asks.
Wade nods solemnly. “It’s important.”
Wyatt claps Wade on the shoulder. “Welcome to the family.”
Wade’s eyes narrow. “Don’t get sentimental.”
Wyatt’s grin goes sharper. “Just wait until you’re an uncle.”
Wade’s face turns even more serious. “Don’t push your luck.”
Wyatt’s arm slides around my waist, pulling me close like it’s instinct now. Like it’s always been.
Wade looks between us for a long beat, the last of his storm draining away. Then he lets out a long breath.
“Okay,” he says.
“Okay?” I repeat.
Wade nods once, still pretending he’s not emotional. “Okay. I’m on board. But if he ever hurts you—”
Wyatt cuts in, calm and absolute. “He won’t.”
Wade holds Wyatt’s gaze, measuring. Then he gives a small, grudging nod. “Good.”
Wyatt’s eyes gleam. “Now sit down. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
Wade scoffs. “I just hiked for two weeks.”
Wyatt opens a cabinet and pulls out a bag of chocolate-covered almonds I’d stashed away, tossing it to Wade like a peace offering.
Wade catches it and pops a few into his mouth. “Got to get washed up, do some laundry and then book a flight.”
“A flight? Where are you going now?”
My brother’s grin turns up. “Met a girl on the trail. She’s from Sacramento, meeting up with her this weekend.”
“Woh—really?”
He waggles his eyebrows. “I guess love is in the mountain air.”
Wyatt breaks into laughter. “You? In love? God help us all.”