We eventually sat down—or at least most of us did. Tyson and Leo went over to the grill, engrossed in flipping the meat and discussing it with serious focus, their voices blending with the sizzle and crackle of the flames. The smoky aroma wafted through the air, carrying hints of spices and marinades that made my stomach grumble. Mason, being Mason, pulled me down onto his lap without hesitation. Heat flushed my cheeks as I quickly scooted off, choosing to sit in my own chair between him and Jaxon.
The chair creaked slightly as I settled into it, smoothing my skirt and stealing a glance at the family gathered around. It felt awkward, as though all eyes were on me, waiting for me to make the first move, say the first words, or do something to prove myself. The weight of their collective at
