Page 68 of Surrender

Our conversation ends as he pulls up at The Rocks beside my sedan in the empty lot. He waits until I’m locked inside before directing me to follow him to Bree and Corjan’s house.

We park in the driveway of a familiar rambler on the outskirts of town. Snow piles high, nearly reaching the windows in the front. A brightly embellished Christmas wreath hangs merrily from the black front door. I try to leave space between us on the way up the front steps, but Jack’s hand hovering protectively at my lower back is impossible to ignore.

He knocks twice, then twists the handle and pushes the door open. He pokes his head inside, then steps back to gesture for me to enter.

A small entry gives way to a warm kitchen. Black cabinets line the lower walls while the top is open shelving, stacked with perfectly complementing dishes. The countertops are a warm wood, and Bree stands in front of a large farmhouse sink with her head aimed over her shoulder.

“Hey, guys,” she greets, wringing out the sponge in her hands.

“If Whitney or her kids are here, you keep the doors locked,” Jack says, his voice tight and serious.

Bree’s eyes grow wide. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t even think... It was locked all night, I promise. I just opened it half an hour ago when you said you were on your way.”

I study his clenched jaw and the way his fingers roll in and out of a fist. “It’s probably overkill, but we’re being extra careful until we know her ex is gone.”

Bree’s head bobs. “Of course. All was quiet last night. Corjan’s just keeping them entertained in the living room while I clean up from breakfast.”

I offer her a brittle smile. “Thank you.”

Jack prowls to the living room while Bree puts her hand gently on my arm. “How are you?”

“I’m doing okay. I think I’m more angry than anything. Angry and scared.”

Her fingers flex against me. “I understand. We’re here for you. All of us. I hope you know that. I’d say after last night, you’re an honorary Powell.”

I scrunch my nose. “I saw the group chat this morning.”

Bree stifles her giggle behind her hand. “I’m sorry. It was funny.”

“Hilarious,” I deadpan, only to grin a second later.

She loops her arm around mine and leads me to the living room. Familiar feelings rise to the surface, that easygoing friendship long ago buried making itself known.

“Your children are wonderful by the way. Lucy is so bossy she had Corjan wrapped around her finger in five seconds flat.” She snaps her fingers for emphasis.

“Did Bennett blow up any diapers while I was gone?”

“None. A little fussy going down to sleep last night, but nothing we couldn’t handle.”

Any response evaporates on my tongue as we round the corner. Corjan sits in a rocking chair in the corner with baby Charlotte tucked high on his chest, talking to Jack, who stands beside him, bouncing Bennett in his arms. My little guy faces the room with a drooly fist in his mouth and clutching a stuffed elephant in the other.

Men with babies.

Hotmen with babies.

I swear my ovaries sizzle. Bree sighs contentedly beside me.

“What a view,” I mutter for only her to hear.

“Hi, Momma!” Lucy bounds across the room.

I drop to a knee and brush my fingers through her fine hair. “Good morning, Peanut.”

“Look.” She thrusts her arm out at me, nearly punching my cheek. A beaded bracelet shakes around her tiny wrist. “Cory made wif me.”

“She means Corjan,” Bree adds.

“It’s beautiful, Lucy.”

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