“Don’t count on it.”

Poor sod, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.

Finally, I turn and tuck Sophie against my side. Jax, Rye, Killian, Liberty, Brenna, and Whip have all managed to leave their appointed rooms and congregate in the massive living room.

Killian and Libby are tucked up on the sofa as Brenna hands out some sort of fruity-looking cocktail. They’ve taken over my house. And it isn’t uncomfortable or strange to see. It feels right. It feels good.

Rye and Whip appear to be bringing out a small drum kit and portable keyboard. Only then do I notice that Jax and Killian have their guitars.

“Planning to sing for your supper?” I ask.

Jax plucks at his guitar’s strings. “For Sophie.” He gives her a wink. “Because she’s the best hostess.”

She blows him a kiss.

“Any requests?” Jax asks.

“Yes.” I lean in to tell him the song I have in mind, adding, “‘From me to you.”

He shakes his head, grinning wide. “No, man, that one is definitely from me to you.”

I pull Sophie onto my lap, and we make ourselves comfortable in a low-slung chair as the guys fiddle with their instruments. Though I rarely let it show, hearing my mates play, seeing their progression from bumbling lads who could barely coordinate a sound to seasoned musicians who create transcendent music, fills me with pride.

Sophie lights up as they begin to play “With a Little Help From My Friends.”

“Beatles for joy,” I tell her softly.

Her head rests on my shoulder, and she places a hand over my heart. “And for love.”

I close my eyes and let the music wash over me. “Always for love.”

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