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Mom’s gaze only narrowed. “It’s more than a piece of paper. It’s about celebrating your love and tying yourselves together. It’s about protection if something happens.”

“We have all that,” Carter said easily. He draped an arm over the back of Hawk’s chair, making the perfect space for my brother to lean into, which Hawk did. “Updated wills, durable power of attorney, health care proxy…it’s all signed, notarized, and filed.”

That didn’t satisfy Mom, and so she decided to change tactics. She could have been a Marine with how well she adapted, improvised, and overcame.

“But don’t you want to officially be part of his family?”

Carter’s eyes softened. “I thought I was.”

“Well, of course!” Mom forgot she was going up against a savvy businessman who knew all the right things to say, but she wasn’t deterred. “But you could be Carter Cahill-Harrington.”

“Which I would love,” he assured her. “But I have the love of this man right here, and that is all I really need.”

“Marrying into this family was the best thing I ever did,” Mal said, just loud enough to be heard. He seemed embarrassed, but his statement earned him a kiss from Crew, so he was smiling when my brother pulled back.

“Who do I have to marry to be a Harrington?” Wren called out, and even though I knew he was partially joking, trying to lighten the suddenly tense mood, something burned in my gut. I whipped my gaze to him, but he was purposefully not looking at me. I angled myself, trying to get his attention, but Gemma shot her hand up, making Wren laugh.

“Oh, oh. Me! I volunteer as a tribute. A lavender marriage sounds delightful.”

And even though they were kidding, a jealous rage burned through me. Like hell Wren would marry anyone but me.

The thought struck me hard, and just as quickly, confusion washed through me. Because what the fuck? Since when did I want to marry Wren? I tried to let the thought go, but I couldn’t. He was mine, he’d always been mine, and there was no one else on this planet who could love him like I did. Take care of him like I did. It had to be me.

I was on my feet before I realized I’d stood up, and Wren finally turned to me, grabbing my wrist before I could get away. His brows were pinched together, and he whispered, “Bode?”

“Just gotta hit the head,” I lied then bent and kissed his forehead before striding the length of the room. It was only after I pushed through the swinging door that I realized what I had done. It felt so natural to reassure him, to kiss him, that I hadn’t even thought about the action while I was doing it.

I braced my hands on the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. My thoughts were whirling too fast to catch any of them and I had to splash my face with water and just breathe before I could make any sense of what was going on inside me.

Except it didn’t make sense. Wren had been my best friend for thirty years, and of course I loved him. But I wasn’t in love with him. I didn’t feel those things. It wasn’t like I’d never had sex or tried to have a relationship. There’d been a couple of people over the years. Even though I didn’t feel anything besides mild affection for them, I’d tried to convince myself those emotions would come in time. They hadn’t, and after the third failed attempt when I’d been at Camp Lejeune I’d accepted that I just wasn’t wired that way.

The door opened and I turned just my head to see Isley enter. But rather than going to one of the stalls or washing his hands, he leaned against the door, effectively blocking me in and keeping everyone else out.

“That was quite the display,” he said mildly.

“Fuck off.”

Isley only smiled. “You okay?”

I grunted.

“Eloquent.” He shook his head. “You having an epiphany about your long-held, deep-seated feelings for Wren?”

My glare, that had intimidated boot PFC and made them quake in their LPCs, had absolutely zero effect on my brother. “He’s my best friend.”

“Sure. And also more.”

“I’m ace,” I snapped, because he knew that. If there was one thing that was true about the Harringtons it was that we were all up in each other’s business. In a loving way, of course. My sexuality was not a secret to my siblings.

“Maybe,” he said, softly. Gently. “But we all see how you are with Wren, past couple of years notwithstanding. How you’ve always been. And maybe demisexual is the better descriptor. Do you know what that is?”

It was a good thing I didn’t actually believe in murder or I would have strangled my brother to death right there. “Of course I fucking know what…just, what’s your point?”

Isley sighed, and his gaze never wavered. He’d always been level-headed, calm, cool, collected. Even as a baby. And that had only become truer the older he’d gotten.

“I love you. You’re the best big brother anyone could ask for. But when it comes to feelings and emotions, maybe that’s not your strong suit.” He levered off the door and grabbed the handle, but he didn’t open it. Instead, he gave me another gentle smile. “I’m asking you to consider that maybe you need emotional connection in order to have real feelings for someone. And if maybe the reason you couldn’t find that with anyone was because all of your emotions were already connected to someone else.”

And with that, he left. All I could do was stare at the closed door. Isley was stupidly smart, but he had no idea what he was talking about. I lived in my own head; I knew how I was wired.