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Cammie sucks in a breath. Before she can ask, Piers leans into her. “We have our own plane, sunshine.”

“Fucking insane,” she mumbles under her breath. But her enthusiasm is sincere. She’s all-in for a vacation and heat in Nantucket.

We all are.

“There’s this one inlet where my grandfather and I used to fish. You will all love it,” Piers says, dead sure he’s right and everyone will think it’s the perfect spot.

“I’ll need to see the layout of the property,” Leith says. “We’ll want to ensure up-to-date schematics for the security cameras.”

“Don’t put a camera on any of the pools or bays. Vacations aren’t actually vacations without skinny dipping,” Beck says, waggling his eyebrows at Cammie.

Cammie clears her throat. We all turn to look at her. She raises an eyebrow, letting the moment stretch a little. “I’m assuming someone’s going to ask me what I want at some point?”

We go quiet, suddenly uncomfortable. I tilt my head. “What’s that, baby?”

Beck grins. "We were getting there, sugar."

"Uh huh." She looks at each of us in turn. "Nantucket. Obviously." She points at Beck specifically, "But I'm picking the nest materials."

I can’t help the soft laugh that escapes. “Obviously.” I lean in and kiss her, going slow and pushing as much sweetness into it as I can. When I pull back, I rest my forehead against hers. “Is Nantucket where you want to be, or would you rather go somewhere else?”

Cammie looks at me, then at Beck, then Leith, and finally at Piers. Her smile is small but certain. “I think it’s time for little miss LIV and I to finally meet.”

Piers lets out a warm, surprised laugh. Beck, Leith, and I share a confused look, but we don’t ask. We don’t need to. The only thing that matters is Cammie and the excitement she’s sending through our bonds.

I watch her face as she looks at each of us in turn. There’s excitement there, but also something deeper. A peaceful certainty settles in our bonds.

I reach over and squeeze her hand under the table. She squeezes back.

“Nantucket,” Beck breathes. “Fuck yeah.”

forty-six

Camelia

Lark answers on the second ring. “Hey you! Are you calling to talk about the article in today’s paper?”

I blink a few times. “What article?”

“The one about Shayna.” Lark’s voice is clear through the line, but it takes my brain a few seconds to catch up. “Apparently, she's been living under multiple identities. All of them with legal trouble attached. There’s no bail option. She won’t be getting out of jail any time soon.”

The tension I’ve been carrying in my shoulders since the parking lot releases. I’m curled up on the couch with my feet in Leith’s lap. He’s rubbing them absently with one big, warm hand while scrolling through emails on his phone with the other. He looks up when he feels me shift, concern written on his face.

I smile at him and mouth, “Good news.”

He nods and goes back to scrolling on his phone.

“Are you still there?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Sorry. I was—” I pause, unsure of what to say. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll look up the article and read it.”

There’s silence for a bit, then Lark asks, “How’s the bonded life treating you?”

“Pretty damn good, actually. How are you? How’s the little one?”

“We’re good. I felt the baby move yesterday for the first time. It was the weirdest, coolest thing.”

“Oh my god, really?” I squeal, sitting up straighter. “That’s amazing! Tell me everything.”