Leaving Diego alone and in charge.

And Rocco had stayed gone. Turned out he’d been in the Bahamas, falling in love and finding a life thousands of miles away.

Their dad had died two years later. Diego had waited until the funeral, which Rocco had shown up for. He’d handed Rocco a stack of medical bills and the keys to the house and The Canvas Shop—the tattoo parlor that had been their dad’s legacy. “My turn,” he’d said and left town.

That had been a decade ago.

Now, they stared at each other until Diego shook his head. “You wanted me here, and I came. Let’s just do what has to be done.”

That’s when Diego heard the click, click, clicking of high heels coming towards them, loud and clear. Even before the wearer of those shoes came around the corner, he knew who it’d be.

Daisy, with her carefully pinned-up hair that he happened to know felt like silk between his fingers. She’d slipped on sunglasses so he couldn’t see her eyes, but if the grim set of her pretty, lightly glossed lips was anything to go by, she wasn’t nearly as impressed with him as he was with her.

“Look,” she said, stopping a few feet back from him and Rocco. “If I’d wanted to watch two men go at each other, I could be doing it from my couch in my PJs with any of my fave reality shows.”

There she is, Diego thought. The feisty, sassy, sexiest woman he’d ever met.

Rocco started to speak, but Daisy held up a hand. “This is clearly a family affair, so I’m going home. Rocco, I’ll see you tomorrow at the cake testing.”

“Daisy,” Diego said, her name feeling incredibly rusty on his lips.

She hesitated a moment before meeting his gaze, making him wonder if she felt any of what he did. As for what the hell it was that he felt, he couldn’t have put it into words even if someone had a gun to his head. “We need to talk too,” he said.

That got him the barest hint of a smile, one completely devoid of humor. “That’s me,” Daisy quipped lightly. “Always second in the lineup. Why am I not surprised?”

What the hell? He was the injured party here, but she strode away as quickly as she’d arrived, leaving him staring after her, stunned.

“Listen,” Rocco said. “I know we’ve had our differences, but I’m getting married next week, and you’re my only family. I want you by my side, dammit.” He jabbed a thumb toward the restaurant, which thanks to the glass walls, meant they could see inside.

Tyler was still at the corner table, alone now, watching them. When he saw them look his way, he gave a small finger wave and an encouraging smile.

“See that?” Rocco muttered. “He thinks we’re civilized enough to be trusted alone with each other simply because we’re brothers. That’s how his mind works. And I love him ridiculously enough to want him to keep believing that this is going to be okay.”