Carissa turned to Millie and rolled her eyes.

Mom started giggling again.

“How you doin’?” High boomed and suddenly the slightly warm, slightly awkward impromptu welcome wagon party changed to just awkward.

“I’m good, High, thanks,” I replied.

His eyes narrowed on my face, taking in the still-angry marks on my brow and jaw and the still-taped nose and he gave clear indication he did not agree with my assessment.

“Let’s drink wine,” my mother suggested. “Did you girls bring Rosalie’s wineglasses over?”

“Of course. We took everything but the asshole’s stuff,” Millie declared then said quickly toward Carissa, “I mean, the a-hole’s stuff.”

She turned back to me as she got close to her man and took the Sephora bag from him.

And it was just what I didn’t want to know about Chaos. Precisely the fact that the brothers in it wouldn’t even allow their women to carry Sephora bags, even big ones like that.

Once she’d nabbed it, she lifted it up my way and said, “We girls got together and got you a bunch of housewarming goodies. Have you tried the Moroccanoil line?”

And there it was.

Indication that the old ladies in Chaos understood what “housewarming” meant and it didn’t have to do with buying someone a plant.

“No,” I told her.

“Oh my God,” she rhapsodized. “It’s amazing. We got you the body gel and the body soufflé and the shimmering body oil. Then we got you the Fresh sugar face polish and rose face mask and hydration cream in case you want to do a facial. It’s sublime. And—”

“Babe, just hand her the bag,” High interrupted, having straightened from putting Travis on the floor.

Her head swung High’s direction and she gave him a pointy look. “Don’t interrupt me while I’m talking about Sephora purchases,” she snapped.

High totally ignored her, but did it appearing faintly amused, and looked to me. “You in or you got shit you need to carry in?”

“We just did the walk through so—” I started.

“Right, keys,” he ordered, lifting a hand toward me.

“Still got groceries out there,” Joker muttered, strolling through the living room toward the front door, glancing down at the baby who was hightailing it to the kitchen, diapered booty wriggling, likely to crawl around the kitchen like he’d do at any trusted friend’s house.

Oh man.

“I’ll get Rosie’s stuff upstairs then help you, Joke,” High muttered back as I grabbed my car keys from where I’d tossed them on a table they’d put by the door (that used to be in my foyer in my apartment, but looked so much better by that door) and gave them to High.

“Think I can get it all with this go,” Joker replied.

He thought?

How many groceries did they buy me?

High took off after Joker before I could ask.

Millie handed me the Sephora bag and prompted on a big smile, “Dig in. Hope you enjoy,” before she moved toward the kitchen, Carissa, and rustling grocery bags.

“Gee, tee, dee, la?” Travis asked, and I looked that way to see Mom somehow had hold of him and he was asking her questions.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “But wanna go see the office space?”

“Dee la!” he agreed enthusiastically.

Watching her wander off with Travis, my heart started hurting again.

“Isn’t this place so neat?” Carissa called from the kitchen. “Joker told me that Snapper did the whole design for the reno, though I think that he asked Tyra to help with the fittings. She told me about the awesome tub upstairs and when I saw it the other day when we were moving you in, I swear, I almost ordered everyone out so I could take a bath.”

“I have the coolest house on the planet but after I saw that tub, I told Logan we’re yanking out ours and getting a soaking one,” Millie said.

I watched them putting away groceries.

Then I got out of the path of Joker bringing more in and High carrying my suitcases upstairs.

Mom wandered back in, carrying on a full-blown conversation with Travis.

“Is there any special place you want the bread, Rosalie?” Carissa called and I started out of the frozen trance I seemed to have fallen into.

“I should help you,” I replied, beginning to move that way.

“No,” Millie denied. “Take a load off and go through your Sephora stash.”

“Can I take Travis upstairs?” Mom asked Carissa. “Give him the full tour.”

“He was here when we moved Rosalie in, but he loved it upstairs, so absolutely,” Carissa answered.

I felt the strings of the Sephora bag I was holding give way from my fingers and I turned to see a returned High setting it on the table by the door.

“Need a word, darlin’,” he said.

I looked up at him and nodded.

He put a hand to the small of my back and oddly led me down the hall-type area to the French doors to the courtyard.

Once there, he led me out of them.

It was Denver. It was February. It could be below freezing. There could be a blizzard.

Or it could be like it was that day. Fifty-three degrees.

I still shivered a little bit when High closed the door on us, giving us privacy.