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“Speaking of help,” Jase said, looking around the living room. “Where exactly are we supposed to sit for this family meeting? On the floor?”

Graham's jaw tightened. “I'll grab the patio furniture.”

“This is really kind of ridiculous,” Jase muttered, following Graham outside. “You've been living here for over a year, and you only have one chair?”

“I had priorities. And don’t forget, I have barstools,” Graham called back.

“Yeah, clearly none of your priorities involved comfort,” Roan said.

Within ten minutes, they'd dragged in the outdoor table and chairs and other furniture, arranging it all around the space. It looked ridiculous, but at least everyone would have a place to sit.

Graham paced around the room as I went back into the kitchen to plate the brownies.

There was a knock on the door. At least they hadn’t pounded on the door.

Graham snagged a brownie off the plate and had demolished it before opening the door. He smiled and welcomed my dad and brothers inside.

“What’s with all the people?” Seth asked belligerently.

“Poor guy needed backup,” Randy scoffed.

“Pipe down,” my dad said as he walked further into the room and took the plate of brownies out of my hand and shoved it into Randy’s hands so he could give me a bear hug.

Then Randy shoved the plate at Seth, and he hugged me. Seth turned, and Graham took the plate from his hands, then Seth hugged me.

“Now what’s this all about? And why did you miss dinner last night?” Seth demanded to know.

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” I waved at the couch. Dad headed to the couch, and so did Randy. Seth opted for one of the chairs. I turned to Simon, Jase, Roan, and Nash. “All of you,” I glared.

They all headed into the living room and sat in the remaining seats or leaned against a wall. When Jase headed for the recliner, Graham chased him away. “Joy, sit down,” Graham indicated the recliner. He remained standing.

“We’ve got a problem,” he announced to the room in general. “It’s a story that started when Joy was in London.”

“London?” Randy parroted.

“London,” I answered. “I had a stalker. He was persistent.”

“How persistent?” Randy asked.

“It lasted for seven weeks before the Smythes brought in the police.”

“That’s bullshit,” Seth exploded. “Didn’t they understand that shit only escalates?”

“Calm down. We’ll get to that,” Graham answered.

Seth turned to Dad. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I already talked to Graham. I trust he’ll explain everything.”

Randy, Seth, and I all gave our dad a double take.

“You talked to him?” Seth's voice rose. “When?”

“This morning. For over an hour.” Dad's tone brooked no argument. “He called to ask my permission to court Joy properly.”

My heart stopped. Graham had done what?

“Your permission?” Randy spoke up for the first time, his voice just as hostile as Seth's. “Isn’t it a little late in the game? Haven’t you and Biker Boy been knocking boots for a while now, Joy?”