Two days had passed since he’d drunkenly found his way to Julia’s bedroom. The hangover the next day had been a real bitch, but waking up in the middle of the night, still half drunk and finding Julia curled up against him? Well, that made the steel-fucking-drums in his head worth it.

Lucian couldn’t believe she actually didn’t kick him out of the bed. He also couldn’t believe that he’d told her about Gabe. Shit, he should’ve kept his mouth shut about that. He hadn’t even talked to Dev. It was Gabe’s business, but Lucian . . . he’d found himself in Julia’s room and even though he had been drunk, he was sober enough to know that he wanted to talk to her.

That he trusted her enough to open up about Gabe and the big family secret. As far as he knew, not even Sabrina knew the truth. Hell, if Dev hadn’t told her about their father’s death, he doubted they talked about the family history.

Lucian seriously doubted they did much talking.

Not like Julia and him.

Despite what was happening with Gabe and his sister, things had been almost normal in the house. Lucian spent the better part of the day finding new ways to seek Julia out while she was working with his sister and commandeer her free time. And when night came, he either retrieved her from her room and brought her to his, or he took over her living space.

Not since the first night they were together had they slept apart, which was seriously a first for him. A lot of things with Julia were a first.

Lucian found himself thinking about Elise. What did his great-grandmother say? That when the de Vincent men fell in love, they did so fast and hard and without reason? The craziest thought happened. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe it wasn’t lust.

Maybe it was something more.

Christ, listen to him? A girl puts up with his drunk-ass ramblings and he was wondering if he was catching feelings? He should really just punch himself in the nuts at this point.

That didn’t stop him from looking for her.

Lucian found Julia in her room, sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed and staring down at her phone. “Are you stalking me on social media? I don’t have any accounts, in case you are.”

Laughing softly, she glanced up as she placed the phone screen down on the bed. “Not everything I do is about you.”

He walked across the room and dropped down on the bed beside her. “I don’t like the sound of that to be honest.”

“Big surprise there.”

Lucian grinned as he stretched out on his side in front of her. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing really.” She lifted a shoulder. “Just checking the news.”

“You going to join us for dinner tonight?”

“With you and . . . ?”

“Gabe should be back, but it would be later or tomorrow.” He only knew that from a text he’d gotten earlier in the day. Other than that, he wasn’t sure what was going on.

Sympathy crossed her face. “I wish there was something I could do for him.”

“You and me both,” he replied, curling his fingers around hers. Right now, he didn’t want to think about what was going on with Gabe. There’d be time to process all of that since it was most likely going to change their lives. “What do you think?”

“Lucian—”

“Let me tell you what I think first.” He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm as he stared up at her. “I think you should have dinner with us and then spend a little time with us instead of staying holed up in your room.”

She didn’t try to pull her hand away. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” He flicked his tongue along the center of her hand, pleased when he heard her suck in air.

“Because . . .” Her lashes lowered.

He lowered their joined hands to the bed. “Because what?”

“I just don’t know if it’s right.”

“Well, things that are fun are rarely right.”

She sighed. “Why am I not surprised that’s how you responded.”

Lucian chuckled and then he moved. Swiftly rising up, he shifted onto his knees as he grabbed her by her shoulders. She let out a little shriek that turned into a laugh as he brought her down to the bed, flat on her back with him hovering over, a knee on either side of her hips.

“That surprised you,” he said, kissing her.

Julia laughed into the kiss and then pulled away. “It did.” She loosely looped her arms around his neck.

“I think I need to explain something to you.” He smoothed his hand over her cheek, down her throat.

“Can’t wait to hear this,” she said, tone dry.

One side of his lips kicked up as he dragged his hand down the center of her top, stopping between her breasts. “If I’m going to be fucking someone more than once, I’ve decided that I’m not going to hide them. That may sound crude, but it’s the truth.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. Do you normally hide the women you sleep with?”

“As you know, I normally don’t sleep with the same woman more than once—”

“That still sounds as bad as the first time you said it.”

He shrugged as he slid his hand down her belly. “But I never hide the fact that I’ve been with them. Just like I don’t plan to hide the fact that I’m with you.” His gaze lifted to hers. “And I’m with you, Ms. Hughes. I’m going to keep being with you.”

She bit down on her lower lip as his fingers toyed with the thin band of her pants. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” he said, holding her gaze as he slipped his hand under her pants and then her panties. “And that means that I want to spend time with you outside of these rooms. It’s a strange feeling to want that, I’ll admit.”

Her cheeks were flushed. “Wow, Lucian.”

He grinned as he inched his fingers down. Based on the way she was breathing, he would bet a million dollars she was already wet for him. “I want to spend time with you while spending time with people I care about that.”

Julia’s thick lashes lowered as her chest rose and fell heavily. He leaned over her, lining their mouths up as his forefinger reached her very damp core. Her head kicked back slightly as he drew his finger along her center, slowly parting her. He loved every little catch in her breath.

“And if you don’t agree to it, I’m going to think that you only want me in this bed and not any place else.”

She curled her hand around the nape of his neck. “Well, you put it that way, I’d feel like an ass if I didn’t agree.”

“You should.” The grip on his neck tightened as he dragged his finger up and down, sinking in farther with every pass. “Is there a reason why you wouldn’t want to?”

Her hips twitched under him. “I . . . what if your brother doesn’t want me there?”

Lucian kissed the corner of her mouth. “I want you there.”

She gasped as he worked his finger inside her. “But I—I feel like I don’t . . .”

Slowly thrusting his finger in and out, he fucking loved that soft little cry she gave him. Could eat it right up. “You feel like what, Ms. Hughes?”

She was moving her hips in tandem with his finger, growing more and more breathless as he added another. “I feel . . . I feel like I don’t fit in.”

Lucian’s hand stilled—his entire body stilled as he stared down at her. Did she really feel that way? Fuck. Why was he surprised? She hadn’t grown up like he had, living the kind of life he and his brothers experienced. Most people wouldn’t feel like they fit in. He was a dumbass for not even realizing that earlier.

“Lucian,” she breathed, her hips rolling against his hand.

He gave a little shake of his head and then he kissed her—kissed her as if he could kiss away the insecurities. “You fit in,” he told her. Hooking his finger, he pressed his thumb down on her clit. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

Julia’s back arched as he swirled his thumb. He lifted himself up, supporting his weight on his knees, so he could watch her expression when the passion broke. His other hand curved around her throat. He could feel her pulse beating wildly under his thumb. Her lips parted and that soft cry danced in the air as her body clutched his fingers.

God.

She was beautiful. Everything about her. From the pink flush in her cheeks to the crease that formed between her brows when the tension was almost, almost too much to handle.

Lucian groaned her name, wanting to rewind the last couple of moments and rewatch it over and over.

After what felt like an eternity, Julia’s eyes fluttered opened. Their gazes locked, and a part of him was still in her. “Okay,” she murmured, a sated grin tugging at her lips. “Geez. I’ll hang out with you guys.”

He started to smile.

“But first . . .” Julia reached down, gripping his wrist. She pulled his hand out and then sat up. She rolled him, forcing him down onto his back. Her hands went to his belt. “There’s something else I want.”

Lucian was quick to realize she meant him.

And she had him.

In her hands and then her mouth, and in ways, she probably didn’t even know—in ways he was just discovering.

With a glass of wine in one hand and Lucian’s hand wrapped firmly around the other, Julia followed him through the house, heading down a hall she’d never entered before. They were joining Dev in the rec room. She seriously doubted that her idea of what a rec room consisted of was the same thing as the de Vincents’.

Growing up, her family had one. There was a TV in there and an old worn couch that should’ve been tossed ages ago. There’d also been a ton of crap no one used stashed in the room.

Lucian stopped abruptly in front of a large painting. It was a field of burnt orange poppies and dewy, green grass. “What do you think of this painting? Maddie or me?”

They’d been doing this all night, before dinner, during it, and now as they made their way through the maze of a home. Her task was to guess which one had been done by his sister and which ones had been painted by him. So far she sucked at this game, because both of them were all over the place in terms of style.

She studied the painting, struck yet again by how realistic it was. From a distance, the painting could easily be mistaken as a photograph. Just like the one in Madeline’s bedroom. “Your sister.”

“Nope. Me. Pony up.”

Sighing, Julia paid the cost of losing as established at the beginning of the game. She stretched up on the tips of her toes and kissed him.

He circled on arm around his waist, fitting her body against his. “I’m beginning to think you’re getting this wrong on purpose.”

She laughed as she made sure she didn’t spill the wine. “I don’t mind losing, but I’m not doing it on purpose. It’s almost impossible to tell your work apart.”

“Hmm.” He nipped at her lip and then backed off. He started walking again, bringing her along. “Too bad you got all the ones right during dinner. I was so looking forward to you having to kiss me in front of Dev.”

Julia snorted. “I’m not sure he would’ve even noticed.”

He cast her a long look over shoulder. “He would’ve noticed that.”

Her nose wrinkled. “You guys are, like, really weird. Weird in a way I’m not sure I want to even think about.”

“More like weird in a way you have most definitely thought about,” he teased, and her eyes narrowed, because he was, of course, right. “How was dinner for you?”

“It was okay.” And that was the truth. “I was . . . nervous at first, but I was fine.”

Dinner had been normal. Well, not the staff serving their food or refilling their drinks. That was so not normal. It was like eating at a fancy restaurant, but Devlin had been nice, talkative in his own coldly detached way. Lucian had behaved himself mostly. One or five times his hand ended up on her thigh under the table, but it had been nice and the food had been amazing.

And while she still didn’t feel like she really fit in with them, that was on her. They made her as comfortable as possible, but it was her head that made her feel like a weed among roses. The fact that Lucian had even acknowledged that was a concern of hers earlier, that he’d sensed it and then told her she belonged, made her—ugh, made her want to cuddle with him and do stuff.

God, she really wanted to hate him.

“So, besides having paintings hung here and in some of the places Gabe mentioned, where else does your artwork hang?” she asked.

“I sell a lot of the paintings for charity.” He tugged her farther down the hall.

“That’s nice of you.”

“Great tax benefit.” He cast a grin over his shoulder when she groaned.

“Why do I have a feeling that isn’t the only reason why you do it, but that’s what you want people to think?”

“I have no idea what would make you think I have an altruistic nature.”

“I’m actually kind of surprised you know what that means,” she shot back.

Lucian chuckled. “If we weren’t mere steps away from my brother, I would show you just how altruistic I’m not.”

She flushed hotly.

His eyes turned heated. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He pulled her into him again and lowered his mouth to her ear. “I’ll show you later.”

Julia was in so much trouble when it came to him.

Goodness.

A few more steps and they were in front of two wood-paneled double doors. “This was where the kitchens used to be before the house burnt down.” Letting go of her hand, he pushed open the door. “It was just another useless room until about twenty years ago.”

They had a lot of useless rooms, in her opinion.

“Nice of you two to finally join me,” came Devlin’s voice from inside. “I was starting to think you ditched me.”

“We would never do that.” Lucian held the door open for her.

Julia walked in, and yep, the “rec room” was nothing like the one she grew up in. First off, the room was about half the size of the entire downstairs floor of her parents’ home and it was a legit recreational room.

A huge sectional couch in the center of the room, facing a TV that was about the size of a Hummer. There was an air hockey table, a pool table—one of those fancy, slate-looking ones—video arcade games, a fully stocked bar—and oh my God, it was ridiculous.

Dev was holding a pool cue. “Do you play pool, Julia?”

She laughed. “Not if I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

He inclined his head. “Smart.”

Unsure if that was a compliment or not, she sipped her wine as Lucian brushed past her. “I’ll play you a round.”

“Promise not to cheat?”

Grinning, Lucian walked over to the rack and grabbed a cue. “Now, Dev, how can one cheat at pool?”

His brother snorted. “If there’s a way, you’ll find it.”

Julia laughed as she sat on one of the tall bar stools. “That sounds about right.”

“I like her.” Devlin racked the balls, dragging them into position. “She’s smart.”

Lucian looked affronted. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Ms. Hughes.”

She raised her brows as she sipped her wine.

“And proving that she is as smart as I keep saying she is, she remains quiet.” He lifted the rack as he slid a look in Lucian’s direction. “Unlike some.”

And that was pretty much how the next hour or so went. Lucian would push what she assumed was every single button of Devlin’s while the older brother remained as calm as a spring morning, completely unflustered. Devlin’s ability to ignore just about every comment of Lucian’s was truly an impressive talent.

Which probably explained why he was winning the game.

Then again, Lucian wasn’t really paying attention. When he wasn’t annoying his brother, he was focused on Julia. She knew this because it was in every casual brush of his hand over her arm when he passed her by. And in the way he always came to where she sat when it was Devlin’s turn and how he held eye contact with her whenever he took the shot he called.

As the night progressed, it was easy to forget who they were—who she was and why she was here. It was easy to pretend that this . . . this was her life.

“I think he’s going to beat me.” Lucian leaned against the bar beside her as Devlin prowled around the pool table. Only the eight ball was left. “I may need a lot of comforting later.”

Julia rolled her eyes. “I think you need a lot of stuff.”

Interest sparked in his eyes. “Name a few?” he asked, but before she could answer, his phone rang. Setting the cue aside, he reached into his pocket. “Hold that thought—hey, Troy, what’s up?” Lucian’s grin faded. “What?” There was a pause. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Julia tensed and glanced over to Devlin. He didn’t appear to be paying attention.

Pivoting around, Lucian walked over to the bar and picked up a remote. He turned, aiming the remote at the large TV mounted on the wall above the air hockey table. A moment later, the TV turned on.

Lucian rapidly flipped through the channels, stopping on what appeared to be a news report. “Yeah, I have it on now. I’ll call you back.”

Julia focused on the TV. It was obviously a local channel on a split screen, reporters behind a desk and one outside, on a dark road. Blue-and-red lights flashed behind a pretty dark-skinned woman who stared earnestly into the camera.

Lucian turned up the volume as Dev glanced over at the TV.

“The single vehicle accident happened shortly after 9:00 p.m. From what I’ve been told, it appears he suffered a medical emergency and lost control of the vehicle. The vehicle then collided with what appears to be a telephone pole, igniting on impact. It is believed that Lyon died on impact,” she reported. “Once again, it has been confirmed that the driver was Chief JB Lyon, a thirty-three-year veteran of the . . .”

Chief Lyon? She’d heard that name before. When Lucian and Devlin were talking about their father’s death. He was opening up an investigation, and Devlin had said . . .

Skin turning ice cold, she turned to Lucian.

Devlin had said that the chief wouldn’t pose a problem much longer, but he couldn’t have known. . . .

Julia’s gaze followed Lucian’s, and she moved closer to him, the act something she wasn’t even aware that she’d done until it had happened. He was staring at his brother, his lips pressed together and his jaw forming a hard line. The look on Lucian’s face caused tiny knots of dread to form in her belly. He was staring at Devlin like . . . like his brother possibly already knew what happened to the chief.

Like Devlin might’ve even expected it.

A shiver curled down Julia’s spine as she watched Dev walk around the pool table. “Right corner pocket.”

The corners of Devlin’s mouth tipped up in a faint smile as he lined up his next shot and bent over the pool table. He took it. The white ball shot across the table, cracking into the eight ball and sending it straight into the right corner pocket.