Page 51 of Marked

“I’m sorry, what?”

“More pancakes?” Derek offered quickly.

I opened my mouth to protest, but movement caught my eye. Through the massive kitchen windows, I could see… was that security? Multiple men in tactical gear patrolling the grounds?

“Okay, seriously?” I gestured at the window. “What is with this town and tactical gear? Is there some sort of paramilitary gardening club I should know about?”

Caleb choked on his coffee again. Marcus’ hand tightened on my thigh. Derek just looked proud, like excessive security was a personal achievement.

“Protection,” Derek said simply.

“From what? Aggressive deer? Militant squirrels?”

“You’d be surprised,” Caleb muttered, earning twin glares from his brothers.

I shifted in my chair, very aware that I was basically pantless in a house full of security.

“You should stay here,” Marcus said suddenly, like he’d been waiting to say it all morning. “Until the pipes are fixed. It’ll be a few hours.”

The pipe repair was going to be a whole other nightmare. Maybe I could sell a kidney? Take out another loan on top of my student loans? Decisions, decisions.

“The pipe repair will be covered by insurance,” Marcus said as if he could read my mind.

I blinked. “There’s insurance on the cottage?”

“Of course.” He looked completely certain. “I’m sure of it.”

Hope bloomed in my chest. One less organ I’d have to sell. “Really?”

“Really,” all three brothers answered, exchanging one of those looks that seemed to contain entire conversations.

“Kai.” Marcus’ voice held something that made my spine tingle. “Stay.”

Maybe it was the way he said it or how Derek was looking at me like he’d personally carry me to a guest room if I refused or how Caleb was leaning across the counter with that mischievous grin, but…

“Okay,” I heard myself say. “Until the pipes are fixed.”

The satisfied looks on their faces should have worried me more than it did.

What exactly had I just agreed to?

Chapter 11

Breakfast wound down eventually, though the brothers showed no signs of leaving for whatever jobs required tactical gear and designer suits. I’d migrated to their obscenely comfortable living room, trying to look casual while being hyperaware of my bare legs and Caleb’s oversized shirt.

The brothers followed, because of course they did. They moved like satellites, maintaining a careful orbit that somehow always kept me at the center. Marcus claimed an armchair with the authority of someone used to commanding rooms. Derek lounged against the fireplace with deceptive casualness, while Caleb sprawled on the other end of my couch, somehow making the distance between us feel intimate.

I tucked my legs under me, tugging the shirt down. “Don’t you guys have, you know, work? Lives? Hobbies that don’t involve watching half-naked strangers eat breakfast?”

“We work from home today,” Marcus said smoothly, at the exact moment Caleb blurted, “Nope, clear schedule,” and Derek added gruffly, “Called in a professional plumber. They’ll be at your place this afternoon to check the pipes.”

Right. Totally normal.

A woman in her fifties entered, radiating the kind of no-nonsense energy that probably kept this massive house running.

“Tía(aunt) Maria,” Marcus introduced, his tone softening with familial affection. “Our Spanish great-aunt. Tía Maria, this is Kai.”

Maria took one look at me drowning in Caleb’s shirt and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Too big, much too big,” she muttered, her accent thick with motherly concern. “My Miguel, he’s closer to your size. My son, he works as our groundskeeper, such a good boy. Wait here,cariño(darling).”

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