Carver drapes his arm over my shoulders and turns me toward the house. “You sounded lonely when you called. And we were tired of waiting for you to come back to Denver.”

“We came to help you finish with the cabin,” Abram explains.

“But you all have jobs. That, like, require you to be at them.”

I’m the only one in the bunch who doesn’t have the typical forty-hour workweek.

Abram is a district manager for a tractor supply company.

Byron works at a music shop, repairing instruments.

Carver is a physical therapist.

And Donovan works as a cyber security analyst.

Bunch of stand-up guys who shouldn’t be playing hooky from their well-paying jobs.

“It’s called vacation time. Ever heard of it?” Carver knocks on the front door, which sets Bruce to barking. “We’ve been waiting outside forever. Unlock the door.”

I roll my eyes and fight a smile at his whining. “If I had known you were coming, I would’ve left you a key.”

“But then we wouldn’t have gotten to see your dumbass surprised look,” Carver offers.

“I do not look like a dumbass ever! I always look like the smartest of asses!” I shove my brother through the now-open front door as he laughs.

“So, this is Grandma Minnie’s place.” Byron is the next in, and he moves to the center of the room, turning slowly to observe every angle.

I look at the cabin with new eyes, seeing it how my brothers see it. The space isn’t hugely different from when I first arrived. All the furniture is pretty much the same, other than the upgrades I’ve made to them. I realize that despite my idea to potentially sell the pieces once they were refurbished, I haven’t looked into any options for that task. I simply made everything look better, then arranged the furniture how I preferred.

As if this were my place.

The thought sends a spike of panic through me. I’ve been settling in. Getting comfortable here. Turning this cabin into an introvert’s hideaway.

“What still needs getting done? Have you talked to the local realtor?” Abram starts flicking light switches, as if he thinks he’s going to find a dud. Like I would let myself live in darkness.

Unfortunately, that isn’t an unreasonable assumption based on how they last found me.

“No, I haven’t. I guess I thought Mom would do that since she’s technically the one who owns it.”

Donovan silently wanders around the space, eyeing my handiwork.

“True. Then, we just need to make it ready for sale,” Abram says.

We?

For the first time since I realized the car parked outside was Carver’s, I resent my brothers’ surprise visit.

I’ve spent weeks working on this cabin, and now, they’re here to speed things along? Rush me through to the end?