Page 76 of Their Greatest Strength

“So, before everyone starts asking the millions of questions I know are coming, I want you to officially meet Blakely, my fiancée, and her brother, Nathan,” I say, putting more emphasis on the titles as if that’ll help point out how little I want to hear any arguments on any of this. Spreading my fingers out along Blakely’s side, I hold her closer to me and add, “Blakely, Nathan, this is my mom, Gracie, my dad, Tyler, my brother, Oliver, and his wife, Avery. You’ve already met Nova.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nate says, speaking first.

It takes me a beat to notice the way he’s shifted to stand at Blakely’s other side, a stone sentinel at the ready.

Nobody here is going to hurt her, regardless of how confused and concerned they are about what’s happening, but seeing him protect his sister only makes me respect him more. He’s young in age, not maturity.

“Thank you for welcoming us into your home,” Blakely says, back to the woman I met all those weeks ago in my living room. “It’s beautiful.”

It’s awkward, more like. She doesn’t know that my parents are aware of how we met. They’re not judgmental people, just protective. I have to hope they don’t treat her any differently because they’re privy to information they never needed to know in the first place.

Dad rubs a hand down Mom’s arm and offers Blakely a sincere smile the way I was hoping he would. As intimidating as his towering height, dark-as-night, silver-streaked hair, and deep brown stare are, he can be a total softie.

The recognition in his expression isn’t obvious to those who don’t know him as well as we do. I see it all as he tries to dive inside Blakely’s head, searching for the reason behind the mask she’s been wearing less and less around me but has slipped on today. A façade of wholeness and the lack of weight that’s been slowly crushing her shoulders.

Dad sees all of that because he was in her shoes once upon a time. Only instead of needing to be strong for a brother, it was his mother he was taking care of while silently suffocating inside.

“Thank you. Come in, we don’t bite,” he says.

Nova peers up at him. “That’s a weird saying, G-Pa.”

“What’s weird about it?” he asks.

“Why would we bite her?”

“It’s just something someone says to be reassuring. Like double-checking locks on the doors before going to bed, it just makes you feel safe,” Nate tells her gently.

I don’t know whether to scream or start to cry because that was the first thing that came to his mind. I’ll be changing that. Bythe time this marriage is over, neither he nor Blakely will fear anything again.

“Exactly,” Dad notes, nudging Mom to guide us all inside the house.

“We brought some dessert. Jamie said you were berry fans, and I don’t like showing up somewhere empty-handed,” Blakely rambles, waving to the platter of tarts in Nate’s hands. “I didn’t have a chance to try them before we left home, but Jamie did sneak one and said they’re pretty good.”

Mom snaps out of whatever worried haze she was just in and focuses on the dessert. When she smiles at Blakely, it’s warm and open, relaxing me a bit.

“That was very kind of you. I attempted tarts a little while ago but couldn’t quite get the filling right. Do you have a specific recipe that you follow?”

“I do. If you want, I can write it down for you?”

Mom nods enthusiastically. “I’d love that. I have a pen and paper in the den.”

The tension drains from Blakely’s muscles beneath my fingers. I release a tight breath. Mom snags her hand and pulls her from me before taking Nate’s as well. Nova clutches her mom’s fingers, and then every one of them is rushing away.

“I need your help with something, Jamie,” Dad says once they’ve disappeared.

Oliver cocks a brow. “Am I allowed to come, or am I supposed to follow my wife?”

“Considering you knew about Blakely before I did, you’ve already got a head start,” Dad grunts.

I smirk. “You heard him. Go away.”

“I’m going to eat all of the tarts and leave the both of you nothing but crumbs.”

“Have at it. Your mom has been feeding me enough baked goods lately,” Dad says.

Oliver glares at the both of us before all but stomping away.It’s a valiant effort on his part, acting like he would rather be here than wherever it is his wife has wandered off to.

“What do you need my help with?” I ask, slipping my hands into my pockets.

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