“I’m just going to tell him. I want to see his face.”

They both knew Reid well enough that the mere idea had them bursting into laughter.

*

As Logan sat down with Reid, Trystan, and Emma, Emma said wistfully, “Our last dinner as a family for a while.”

She had roasted a prime rib, maybe to turn it into a bit of an occasion. Reid was pouring wine, looking for anyone else who wanted a glass.

“You sound like Glenda.” Trystan was offering spoonfuls of pureed carrot to Storm, but she was more interested in squashing the banana pieces on her tray.

“Because she called us a family?” Reid pointed a warning finger at Logan. “Do not accuse me of marrying your mother.”

“Okay, Dad.”

“Glenda offered to come stay while I’m away,” Emma said as she passed the mashed potatoes.

“To look after us?” Logan asked dryly.

“Wait a minute. Are you our nanny?” Trystan circled his finger to indicate all three men. “Guys, we’ve had this all wrong.”

“To look after Storm,” Emma said impassively, ignoring their silliness.

“I’m insulted. Are you insulted?” Logan asked Reid.

“I feel my ability to parent has been slighted, yes,” Reid agreed.

“Trys?”

“Glenda knows I won’t be here. Obviously, her faith in the two of you is somewhere below sea level.”

“She offered to clean the house and make some food so I could spend my time visiting with my family instead of cooking, but I’ll leave all of that in your capable hands, then.” Emma raised her brows at Logan in a silent, Ha. “Seeing as you don’t feel a need for assistance.”

“That is exactly something Mom would say,” Logan noted, curling his lip in annoyance.

“I take that as a compliment. I adore her.” Now Emma’s eyes were sparkling, her teeth flashing as she closed her smile over her fork.

“She’d probably like to meet your mom,” Reid said.

“She told me she would.” Emma nodded. “I explained we won’t have any spare beds once my family gets here.”

“She stayed with Art and Sophie when she was here for Dad’s service. They’d have her, wouldn’t they?”

Trystan’s cheeks went hollow. Emma gave the end of her nose a rub.

“What,” Reid demanded, looking at each of them in turn, ending up at Logan.

He refused to be a coward about it.

“Art invited me to stay with them while Emma’s family is here so there’s no room at that inn, either.”

Reid’s expression hardened. He slowly turned his attention back to Emma. “What does Sophie say about that?”

“Not much.” Emma shrugged.

“It’s nice that you all care so much about Sophie’s tender feelings but can we all take one step out of my private life and remember that it’s been eight years since Sophie and I—” Logan cut himself off as all eyes turned to look at him.

Even Storm turned her innocent, curious blue gaze onto him.

He refused to kiss and tell, but it was painfully obvious that Sophie wished him dead. He had thought she would have lightened up on her mad by now, but nope. That woman had a strong grip when it came to a grudge.

“Can we move on?” he said.

“She’s your direct report,” Reid said without heat. “Moving into her home is a recipe for an HR issue.”

“Raven’s Cove is one long HR issue.” The hiring pool was microscopic. Even when they managed to recruit from afar, the isolation took a toll. Attrition was rampant, but hiring locals also had pitfalls. Firing someone who didn’t work out impacted their ability to pay rent, creating a domino effect through the community. Outside of work, affairs and personal conflicts were rife. “David Attenborough himself hasn’t seen this much raw, animal behavior.”

“You should set one of your episodes here, Trys,” Emma said with a wink.

“Too dangerous,” Trys assured her.

“There’s nothing else to rent,” Logan said, since Reid was continuing to glare at him. “You know what this place is like.”

“I know what Dad was like.”

“Says the guy who slept with our fucking nanny,” Logan shot back. “That apple fell right at the base of the tree, didn’t it?”

“As family dinners go, I’m starting to feel right at home,” Emma said with false brightness. “How are preparations coming for your first tour, Trys?”

Reid kept his gaze locked with Logan’s. “You’ll notice I married her.”

“Reid.” Emma touched his wrist. “Sophie is a grown-up. If she felt threatened by Logan being there, she would say so. Art wouldn’t put her in the way of harm.”

“Everything is done that can be done,” Trystan answered Emma. “Now we need to launch and work out the kinks. I’m glad we’ll have your bunch on board for one of our early trials. You’ll be more forgiving. And maybe do the dishes?”

Reid finally looked away, turning his attention to Trystan. He began quizzing him about staff. He was a big brother in the Orwellian sense sometimes, micromanaging in ways that drove Logan and Trystan nuts.

But as his brothers hashed out some fine points, Logan caught Emma watching him. Calm, sweet, compassionate Emma.

She didn’t say it, but he heard her all the same.

Watch your step, mate, or the next roast in my pan will be carved out of your sorry gut.

Chapter Three

Sophie wound up working Sunday, of course. A tug broke down and a cabin cruiser had to be pulled out for a new drive shaft. She could have counted inventory in the hardware store, but she left that tedious job to Logan since he was the one who had hired the kid who had screwed it up.

By Sunday afternoon, she was down to the final 10 percent on her internal battery, promising herself a glass of wine while she made dinner if she could just get through helping Biyen clean out the playroom.