Alec hadn’t ever believed he’d heard the last of his half-brothers.

True to Zander’s written threat on Alec’s drink cup, four days after their father’s will reading, his eldest half-brother called. He wanted to meet Alec at Drew’s and talk over what they hadn’t discussed in the café.

Closing the cab door after paying the driver, Alec watched it leave and wished he were still riding inside, heading home to his mother instead of dealing with this crap. Of course, he couldn’t have told her where he was headed. She’d asked after the will reading, and Alec had astutely omitted the part where he had to get married at twenty-one and have a baby—specifically a male heir to unlock all that wealth.

Even after death, Alec had a hard time understanding what his father wanted from any of his sons. And he sensed he wasn’t alone in being confused by the old man; Zander and Drew didn’t exactly exude warmth at the funeral.

In fact, Zander slipped out during the wake to take a lengthy business call—as an international financier, he had to have his finger on the pulse of his work at all times, and Drew had picked and plucked at the food provided by the funeral home, complaining to his husband, Jason, that the food wasn’t even worth the trip, let alone the service. He muttered it, but Alec happened to be near the buffet table, representing both himself and his mother as the bastard son and the ex-supermodel mistress.

There it was.

“Let’s get this over with,” Alec mumbled, huddling deeper into his wool coat, his ears burning under his knit hat, and not because of the snapping wind chill. Trembling with nerves, he was fighting back the urge to heave the small lunch he’d choked down on an anxious stomach. He didn’t want to risk eating or drinking at Drew’s place.

Alec stepped over the tall snowbank from on-and-off snowing, his gaze focused on the bright, falsely cheery red door to the two-story brick house.

Ringing the doorbell, Alec glanced to the road, knowing he was too late to turn back now. The lock being unlatched was akin to a death knell. Yeah, maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but his heart thumped hard enough and his breaths puffed short, the anxiety building on itself.

Just as he was wondering if people could die of panic attacks, the door swung open and his brother-in-law smiled. It was the first friendly face and really the only Alec would be seeing here.

“Long time no see,” Jason said, his smile growing. “You’re here to see Drew, I imagine.”

That had Alec starting as he stepped inside and slipped one of his winter boots off. “Isn’t he expecting me?”

Jason shrugged, his brows shooting up, his forehead creased by wrinkles. The smile touching his features gone now, replaced by bafflement. “He didn’t mention you. Gesturing in the direction of Drew’s office at the back of the house, Jason said, “But I’ll grab him anyways. It’s not like you’re here for me, right?”

In the wake of his departure, Alec swallowed guilt. When Alec had been staying with Drew three years ago, after Alec’s mother departed with his father for what they called a vacation—later the family discovering it was to confirm from specialists in Europe that the aggressive medical treatments they had tried to control the late stage-four cancer weren’t going to work, and that the old man was dying—Jason had been his only friend here.

Which was why he always found it odd that Jason, a decorated homicide detective for the Pittsburgh Police Department would choose to mate with Alec’s pompous asshole of an alpha brother, Drew. An alpha himself, Jason had to see all the lacking positive qualities in Drew.

Once he was free of his clunky, but frostbite-secure boots, Alec padded in the direction of the living room. It doubled as a parlor, he realized, once he survived Drew as a roommate for seven months. Still a wonder they hadn’t killed each other…or Alec killed himself. He had certainly contemplated it, in his bleak, the-world-must-hate-me teenager phase. Or so that was what he told himself. It worked well as a comforting excuse.

He didn’t want to remember the darkness he’d crawled through to get to where he was now, not entirely at peace with himself three years later, but not fantasizing suicide every waking minute. Both his therapist and his psychologist would be pleased, if Alec bothered to return either of their calls.

“Zander is running late,” were the first words out of Drew’s mouth. He joined Alec in the living room but steered into the kitchen. It took twenty-eight minutes for him to return to Alec, refreshment tray in hand with three mimosas. Drew grabbed up his flute, tipping it to Alec before taking a sip.

“What’s the matter?” Drew nudged his chin at the drinks. “We might as well hydrate ourselves for the conversation if Zander chooses to show.” Then, because he was naturally spiteful, he drawled, “Unless you’re pregnant already?”

Alec frowned. Pushing forward from the sofa’s soft fabric, he snatched up a glass and took more than a generous sip. In his hastiness to prove Drew wrong, the cool cocktail juices dribbled down to his chin.

“I’ll get a napkin,” Jason said, his entry into the open layout family room and kitchen perfectly timed. As usual, he would be the best way to deflect Drew from his line of questioning. The one good thing about having the darkly handsome detective around was it kept Drew from utilizing the full strength of his barbed sarcasm.

Around his husband, Drew was a leashed lion, prowling around Alec, sharpening its claws, angling for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Now was not the time though as Jason carried napkins to Alec, bottled beer in his hand for his own thirst. Sitting beside Drew in the settee, he crossed his ankle over his leg, and beamed at Alec, the smile dimming in wattage when he looked to Drew. “Don’t stop talking on my account.”

“We weren’t exactly talking.” Drew directed his glower from Alec over his shoulder. “More like waiting on Zander to remember he inconvenienced us all.”

That was a bit melodramatic. It wasn’t like Drew had to leave his house.

Though they lived in the same neighborhood, a five-minute drive from each other, Alec hadn’t stopped to visit Drew since he packed and left for good, his mother having returned from the health sojourn in Europe with the three quarreling siblings’ father.

“Why don’t you call him?” Jason popped the lid off his bottle, tipping back his beer, and settling back into his seat. “He might just be running late. He’s usually so busy with work, and I don’t envy him. I like the luxury of having breaks here and there.”

Drew sat quietly, scowling, until he cleared his throat. Setting down his flute, he announced begrudgingly, “I guess I’ll go do that then: call him, that is.”

Soon as he was gone, Jason pushed forward, settling his beer on the mirrored coffee table. “Hey, don’t mind him. He hasn’t been handling any of this too well.” His open expression eased Alec somewhat, even if Jason was defending Drew. After all, as his spouse and his mate, Jason was obliged to do this.

But he glanced over his shoulder, his voice dropping several octaves. “He might not show it, or say it, but he’s been torn up about the funeral.” Jason massaged his nape, his smile sad, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

The scene gripped Alec’s heart and wouldn’t let go. Not until he bobbed his head, swallowed hard around the lump of sympathy in his throat, and hoarsely said, “Yeah, same. It’s been hard.”

“Yeah,” Jason said, sighing. “I don’t really know what it’s like losing a parent. Both of mine are alive and healthy, thank God. Still, I see what it’s doing to Andrew… He’s a tough nut to crack, but he’s also oddly an open book if you’re willing to look close enough.” Then Jason had the decency to duck his head. “So, uh, I’m hardly the one that should be asking you to go easy on him, but yeah, it would help. And honestly, just between us, you’re way more mature than he is—and I’m definitely taking the big age difference into account.”

Before Alec could respond past a small, barely perceptible nod, Drew returned, the phone in hand, his narrowed stare zipping between them.

“You two look awfully cozy.” He resumed his seat, lifting his mimosa and taking another dainty sip. “What have you been talking about?”

“Nothing important.” Quick on his feet, Jason explained, “Alec was just trying to stay awake as I told him about my crazy days as a border patrol officer. Some of the craziest things people would try to smuggle across the International Border. We weren’t sure if Americans were crazier than Canadians, or vice versa.” He chuckled, playing it natural. Drew ate it up, his first natural smile lifting his mouth.

The couple chatted easily, as if Alec weren’t present. The only thing hinting they were aware of their company was the occasional warm glances Jason tossed at him, reminding Alec of the conversation they’d had in Drew’s absence.

Drew’s phone stopped them mid-laughter at one of Jason’s stories.

“It’s Zander,” Drew said, staring at his phone. He keyed back a text and then he stood, draining off the last of his mimosa and settling the glass on the tray. “He’s stuck in a snowbank, the idiot,” he muttered the last part. “Oh, and he brought his daughters.” He rolled his eyes now. “Like I wanted to babysit.”

Jason followed Drew. “I’ll help dig him out. Can’t have the poor girls freezing in there.”

“I’ll help, too,” Alec said, shooting up.

“Great,” Drew said, his tone flat. “I guess I’ll clear out the mimosas before the kids mistake them for orange juice. They drink hot chocolate, don’t they?” He grumbled his way to the kitchen, the tray of mimosas resting on the kitchen counter now as he dug through his top cabinets.

Outside, Alec hurried to keep with Jason’s pace.

Zander exited his car, raising a hand to them a few houses down.

And he wasn’t alone.

A forest green truck idled behind Zander’s sporty SUV, the luxury vehicle looking less like it was made for the winter terrain. Whoever the Good Samaritan was, Zander seemed satisfied with the help.

“Fine neighbors you got, Detective,” he said to Jason. “We’re glad for the help, and I think I got it covered. Maybe you can take the girls inside; warm them up some. I don’t want their father to kill me.” Zander’s stoic expression altered at the mention of his mate, his voice softer.

As Jason drew the girls out, Alec noted the tow hooks strapped to the rear of Zander’s car. The recovery straps were lax, the driver nowhere in sight.

“Where is this helper of yours, Zander?” Jason asked. Each of his hands gripping Zander’s daughters, the detective peered into the truck. “Nobody’s in there.”

“He went to get a shovel.” Zander pointed out a house at the end.

Jason shrugged, drawing a blank it seemed. “Too bad Drew isn’t too keen to get to know his neighbors.” He sounded disappointed, but he left, so Alec didn’t think too much on it.

Readying to follow him, Alec stilled when Zander said, “Oh, here he is. And he has the shovel.” Curious to see what the kind soul looked like, and not in a hurry to spend more than necessary time under the same roof as grumpy Drew, Alec held back from following Jason and eyed Zander’s savior.

It might have been redundant at this point, but, like the last time he faced muscled and tall alpha JT, Alec blurted the same thing, “You!”