They used what was formerly the lodge’s lobby as a living room/secondary office/great room, and the large room was most definitely lived in. The huge, overstuffed and battered leather couches in a wide V in front of a wood-burning stove held a variety of different remotes and several throw blankets, not one of them folded. There was also a flat-screen TV, a sound system, and two dead potted plants gifted to Aidan by an ex who’d been attempting to domesticate him.

And then there was the coffee table, currently littered with trade magazines and more than a few empty glasses that no one would claim because if you got caught leaving anything out, you had to clean the entire place.

Penny’s rules. And every one of them was afraid of Penny, so those glasses would not be claimed by anyone with a brain.

The first thing Aidan heard was yelling. This came as no surprise. The Kincaids didn’t have much in the way of volume control. Yelling was what happened when they were on top of each other night and day. Hopefully at some point they wouldn’t both work together and live in the same building, but for now, for better or worse, no one had made the effort to move away. Maybe because they’d grown up without much family and were making up for lost time. Or maybe it was sheer laziness.

Home. Sweet. Home.

By the time he shed his gear and stood in the middle of the living room, where he could also see into the kitchen, the yelling had stopped. He found Gray face-first in his fridge and Kenna sprawled on the couch. Aidan tossed his keys into some fancy bowl Penny had put on the coffee table. “What the hell’s wrong with your own places on your own floors?” he asked.

“I don’t have a couch yet,” Kenna said.

Like Hud and Jacob, Kenna hadn’t grown up in Cedar Ridge. Her mom had brought her to Colorado for the skiing, and it hadn’t been long before she’d joined the professional snowboarding circuit and become a world phenom by age fifteen. After that, she hadn’t set down roots anywhere until she’d imploded her life last year. Publicly. Very publicly.

She still wasn’t on the people train. The only socializing she tolerated was her half brothers, and even then only barely.

“You can stay,” Aidan told her and looked at Gray. “But not you.”

Gray scowled. “Why not me?”

“You’re eating my food.”

Kenna snorted. “That’s because he texted Penny asking her what was for dinner and she texted back that his dinner was in the cookbook, any page, and that the ingredients were all at the store.”

“So I came here,” Gray said, mouth full as he foraged, holding up salami and cheddar cheese. “You and Hud stock the good stuff.”