Then she rested between the two men she loved more than anything in the world, and they acted like it was an everyday occurrence to sit in bed, looking through papers as she lay between them. When Lady Madelyn and Anna came in to check on her, Greylen helped her sit up while Gavin adjusted pillows. She had to drink more of that god-awful elixir, but Anna handed her a mug when she finished. Gavin took it from her hand, smelling and drinking it before allowing her to have any. Anna closed one of her eyes, fixing him with an angry stare. But Gavin only shrugged.

“Well, how is it, Gavin?” Gwen asked with a smile.

“As sweet as you,” he answered, touching her nose with his finger.

“If you wish the comfort of my bed, you’ll not touch my wife again.”

“I held not only your wife last night, but your sorry hide as well, let’s not forget.”

“I’ve held your sorry hide as well, my friend—on more than one occasion. I almost regret not letting you freeze to death while I had the chance.”

“Good God, stop fighting,” Gwen said as she sipped the tea infusion. “Wow, that’s a great phrase, good God, good God, good God.” She mimicked her husband’s brogue.

Just then, Isabelle walked into the room as everyone stared affectionately at Gwen. “Good God, what’s happened?”

Gwen patted the bed beside her. “Come, Isabelle, were having a sleepover.”

Isabelle looked around the room; pallets still lay on the floor and it was obvious Gavin had slept in their bed. “Tell me, what is the meaning of this?”

Greylen started to tell her, but Gwen interrupted him. “A sleepover is a party you invite only your best friends to. And you play games, listen to music, and eat snacks all night long.”

Greylen and his men would have to take her words to heart, knowing she spoke them for their benefit.

“How come I wasn’t invited?” Isabelle asked.

“You must have been sleeping when it started. In fact, I don’t remember it either.”

“Well, that hardly seems fair, sister,” Isabelle said, placing her hands on her hips.

“You’re absolutely right, Isabelle. Greylen, I demand a redo.”

“Pardon?” He would have no idea what she spoke of.

“I said, I demand a redo. You’re not a very good listener, are you?” she teased.

“Explain a redo.”

“It’s simple, I want another sleepover minus the…well, you know.”

Greylen shook his head, his smile full of love for his wife. She knew—as well as he—that his men had no intentions of leaving. Their pallets lay on the floor, neatly made, and Gavin had obviously made camp on the other side of the bed. She would have her sleepover, whether she wished for it or not. “Anything, Gwendolyn. Anything you so desire.”