The sound of an oven door closing draws my attention over to a short woman with brown hair muddled with gray. She takes in the room, alarmed by the sudden quiet—a rarity in the Allen clan, I’m guessing. Her gaze follows the path of everyone’s to land on me and Jessie frozen in the doorway. A bright smile lights up her face and her green eyes dance with joy. They’re identical to the ones that have been haunting my dreams these past few weeks.

“Everyone, this is Devin.” Jessie points at me over her shoulder with her thumb. “Devin, this is everyone.”

Jessie’s brothers all straighten and cross their arms in choreographed unison while her mom claps and squeals. As if on cue, the baby starts crying again. I’ve got one fan in this room. I cross the crowded kitchen and hold out a plate to Jessie’s mom.

“Thanks for inviting me, Mrs. Allen.” She blushes and giggles. It’s the same light sound as Jessie’s. I can tell we’re going to be fast friends. “My sister made these cookies as a thank you for taking me off her hands for the day.”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” she gushes. “And please, call me Jenny.”

“Jenny,” I say with a nod.

“She also made him promise to be on his best behavior,” Jessie calls from across the room. I glance at her over my shoulder and she’s taken the same stance as her brothers, arms crossed and feet wide. “Don’t let the gentleman act fool you. He’s insufferable.”

“You’ve met your match then, sis,” her middle brother calls out.

“Bite your tongue, Jake,” Jenny calls out with a snap of her dish towel. Jessie is less subtle as she charges after him, fists flying. She socks him in the arm, reaching past her other brother to do it. She wags a finger at all three of them.

“Best behavior from the three of you, too!” she demands.

The woman holding the baby snorts. “Not like that’s a high bar. Put a pig in a dress…”

“Hey!” The oldest brother objects. He stalks over to the sink and wraps his arms around her, kissing her then the baby on their foreheads. “I’m not a pig. Even if I do look damn good in a dress.”

She slaps him in the chest. “Take your son, Miss Piggy.” She hands him the little bundle. He snorts into the blankets and the baby stops crying, transfixed by the pig noises.

What the hell kind of crazy-ass family did I get myself mixed up with?