“YOU’RE LATE.” I LOOK UP from the stove to see Graham entering the kitchen with a big smile on his face. Although he was supposed to be home two hours ago and lunch is now cold, I can’t even pretend to be mad at him.

He tosses his keys on the counter. They completely miss the basket he used to be so anal about hitting. “We decided to go a full eighteen holes.” Glancing around the kitchen, he takes in the cracker crumbs on the floor, egg shells sitting in a pile of dropped egg whites on the counter, and more dirty mixing bowls than one person should have while making a meatloaf.

His brows furrow for a split second and he stutter-steps before coming up behind me. Wrapping one of his strong arms around my waist and urging me backwards into him, he kisses my neck. “The kitchen smells good, but not as great as you.”

Kisses are dotted against my ear, down my neck, and across my shoulder. I’m on the cusp of telling him we’ll wait to mash the potatoes and taking a quick trip to the bedroom when the door opens again.

“Never fails,” Ford mutters, entering the kitchen from the garage. “I can’t go anywhere with my brothers now without some major PDA.”

“Jealous?” Graham laughs.

Ford doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes a baby carrot, dips it in a glob of ranch dressing, and pops it into his mouth. He crunches it much louder than necessary. “What’s for lunch? Dinner?” he tosses out, looking at his watch. “I don’t know what you call it this time of day.”

“Linner?” I volunteer. “I made meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a vanilla cake with vanilla icing.”

“It looks like what you made is a mess,” Ford teases. “I’ll just sit over here and wait for Graham to realize it.”

Graham kisses me loudly on the cheek, earning a groan from Ford. “Really, G?” Ford gasps. “I think you’re stepping in a hunk of raw hamburger right now. That doesn’t needle your inner control freak?”

“I’ve learned to let go a little,” Graham grins. “Or maybe I’d just rather fight with her in a different room.”

Ford shakes his head, his hair now grown out a little. It’s more blond than his brothers and glows in the late afternoon sunlight. “You’ve all turned into pussies.”

Graham swats my behind. “I have no problem with that.” He moseys across the kitchen and takes a seat next to his brother. “Did you get registered for school today?” he asks me.

“I did!” I can’t keep the squeal out of my voice. “I’ll take a few classes this summer and should be set to get into the business school this fall.” Resting the spoon in my hand on a piece of paper towel, I nearly bounce up and down. “I’m so excited, you guys. I have to take another math class, though. Someone will have to help me.”

“I can tutor you in exchange for a few sexual favors,” Graham winks.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Graham laughs as Ford shakes his head. “The only bad thing about this is having to get a new Executive Assistant.”

“I’ll find you one,” I remind him. “She has to be smart and organized and not cute.”

“Send all the cute ones my way,” Ford snickers. “I’m getting to the point where I need help.”

“Good problem to have,” I note, turning back to the stove.

Graham gets up and swats me on the behind as he passes. “I’m going to grab a shower. Be out in ten.”

Watching him take his shirt off as he leaves the room, I can’t take my eyes off him. My heart is so full, nearly bursting at the seams with how much I feel for this man.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve learned more about myself and relationships than I did in years with Eric. I now know, without a doubt, what it means to be loved. Graham loves me. He doesn’t tell me every day, but he shows me. Unequivocally.

He still has days where he wants to work late and not have dinner with me. I have moments where I feel like he should be home with me and not at the office. Instead of those situations blowing up into huge arguments, we try to talk it out. We try to remember what’s important to the other person and make that a priority. It’s a learning curve—sometimes we get it right, sometimes not. But Graham always says you know it’s the right relationship when it’s not always easy. Then he laughs. I don’t get it, but I do always get a kiss, so it works.

I grab my ice water before joining Ford at the table. “Did he beat you again?”

“Yes. You’ve manage to calm him down enough that he’s nearly as good as Lincoln on the golf course. Thanks for that.”

I shrug. “You’re welcome.”

He smiles at me with the kindness I’ve come to expect from him. Ford Gregory Landry has the biggest heart of any of the Landry’s. He’s also the fiercest, which I can appreciate . . . especially when it was him that took the phone away from me when Vanessa called in the morning after she dropped off the envelope. It was also Ford that took the visit from the police officer about said conversation. Lucky for him, the officer was a former Marine too and believed Ford’s side of the story and arrested Vanessa a week later for trespassing when she tried to get in my office again. He and I have gotten close.

In a past life, I think we were brother and sister. He’s rebuffed my attempts at setting him up, but I’m still working on it. Ford deserves to be happy and I don’t think he ever will find happiness until he has a family. He was just cut from that cloth. I see it in his eyes when he looks at Barrett and Alison, Lincoln and Dani, and even me and

Graham although we have a lot of work to do.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Ford asks, smiling like a rascal.

“You can, but I don’t promise not to repeat it.”

Chuckling, he picks up his water bottle. “Out of all my brothers’ girls, you are my favorite.”

“Ah, Ford. You say that to all the girls.”

“Sometimes,” he laughs. “But I mean it this time. Especially because I need a favor.”

“Typical,” I sigh. “What do you want?”

“Can I borrow your yoga studio for a day one weekend? I want to do a self-defense course and I don’t have a location. Our building is too officey. I need mats and space.”

“Um, you kind of own the yoga studio,” I laugh. “It’s a Landry business. I just run it.”

“Come on now,” he teases. “You know Graham bought that for you.”

“Don’t say that. It makes me feel weird.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” I laugh. “It just does.”

The lines around his eyes crinkle. “So I can use it? We can get together one day this week and find a day?”

“Yes, Ford. You can use it.”

“Good.”

“Now, on to the return favor . . .”

“Oh, shit. Here we go,” he groans.

“You didn’t think it was that easy, did you?”

Graham’s feet slap against the tile as he makes his way in the kitchen. “You aren’t asking her for a favor, are you? She always gets you good in the trade.”

“He did,” I say cheerfully. “Now I’m figuring out what I want as a payback.”

“I had no idea you were such a predator,” Ford sighs.

“She’s worse than Barrett,” Graham laughs, sitting down beside me. “So, let’s hear it. What are you going to do to poor Fordie Boy?”

I tap my finger against my lips, pretending to give it thought. Truth be told, I already know what I want. I was going to do it anyway. At least now, he’ll have to participate willingly. Or semi-willingly, knowing him. “In return for use of the studio, I am going to set you up with no less than two blind dates,” I say.

“The hell you are!” he laughs.

“I am,” I insist. “And you will go happily.”

“To a place with forks,” Graham chips in.

“Yes. To a place with forks. I’ll ensure the ladies are sweet and pretty and kind and would do you justice.”

He groans, rubbing his hands down his face. “I don’t know, Mal. I’m not really feeling it right now.”

“When is the last time you had a date?” I sigh. “A real one. Not one of those things where you pick someone up for a quickie.”

“I don’t do that!”

“You do,” I say, wagging my finger towards him. “Should I bring up the girl with the word KARMA tattooed on a certain body part?”

“Hey, how did you know about that?”

“Linc,” Graham and I say together.

We all laugh, the ease of the family now extending to me. I’ve never felt anything like this. So accepted and incorporated into everything they do. They respect me, maybe even love me, and I adore them right back. All of them.

“Your last date was the girl you broke up with before you went over-seas, right?” Graham asks.

Ford’s face falls. He stands and goes to a cabinet in search of a glass.

Graham and I exchange a look and he waves me off.

“It’s time to move on,” Graham presses. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but someone needs to fucking say it.”

“Lincoln said it yesterday,” Ford sighs, his back to us.

“Well, as much as it hurts to admit, Linc was right.”

Ford glances at me, his eyes meeting mine. “She has to like comedies and running. I don’t trust a woman that won’t eat a hamburger, and if she takes longer than a half hour to get ready, I’m out.”

“Deal.”

He doesn’t look sure about it, but seems to accept the idea. “We can start looking next year.”

“Damn you,” I laugh, moving to Graham’s lap. “Why are you so hardheaded?”

“I’m not,” Ford says. “Dating isn’t something that really interests me right now.”

“Because of her?” Graham says, squeezing my thigh in another warning. Ford nods, a small, barely noticeable movement of his head, and Graham exhales. “Okay. We’ll drop it,” Graham says.

Ford stands and heads towards the garage door. “I’m going to check on Trigger. Your neighbor, Paul, was walking his dog on the golf course and volunteered to take Trigger too.”

I nearly choke on my water at the thought of Paul walking his dog.

Graham pats me on the back.

“We’ll wait to eat with you,” Graham tells him as we both ignore the curious look Ford tosses our way. The door swings shut behind him as I regain my composure.

“I’m sure he won’t ask me why you just shot water out of your nose at the mention of Paul’s name.” Graham rolls his eyes. “Should I tell him the truth or just say it was awkward timing?”

“Don’t tell him you fucked me while he was twenty yards away!” I giggle. “That makes me seem like some kind of exhibitionist.”

“I think you just might be. You liked it an awful lot that night.”

I cuddle into my man, breathing in the scent of his cologne. “When do I not like it with you?”

Looking at him, I watch his face light up. He kisses my nose, then bumps me off his lap.

“Hey,” I protest.

“I can’t take it anymore.” He grabs a white towel out of a drawer and begins cleaning up the kitchen.

Drawing one leg under me, I watch my man in action. He wipes up my spills, brushes off the counters, sweeps up the messy floor. The amazing thing is, he does it without a word. I also know he won’t mention it later.

Graham lets me be me. He’s never asked me to change who I am despite all my idiosyncrasies that I know drive him nuts.

He certainly touches my body in every imaginable and even unimaginable way . . . but he also caresses those harder to reach areas like my mind. My heart. My soul.

Every day I spend with him, I feel more like the person I was meant to be. It’s like he holds my hand, guiding me but without pressure. Offering support but not instructions. Giving me space to figure things out while giving me a soft spot to land when things go awry.

Graham has changed how I view a lot of things. He took my preconceived notions of life and love and switched them all around.

He catches me watching him and makes a disgusted face as he picks up an egg shell. Even as his features are all squished together in mock-horror, I see something there I’ve not seen in anyone else. Not when they’re looking at me. It’s in his beautiful eyes that I learned the difference between Graham’s love and everyone else’s. Love isn’t the words you use to say it, but the actions you take to prove it’s true. Graham proves he loves me every day—faults and all.

“Are you going to get up and help me?” he teases, stretching his arms to the side to indicate the enormity of the mess.

I think about it for a half a second. Grinning, I sit back in my chair. “Nah, I’ll just watch you. The view from here is too damned good.”