“Yeah, the new one.” Bull took a seat beside Frankie. “You’ll like the hops.”

Hawk stayed standing. He wouldn’t be here for longer than it took to satisfy his brother. If the women thought him rude, too fucking bad.

“Break-up. You named a beer after something sad?” Kit asked.

“Break-up in Alaska is when the ice on the rivers melts and breaks into chunks.” Bull smiled at her. “Around here, it basically means spring.”

“Oh. I heard the lieutenants talking about it and didn’t understand.” Kit shook her head. “Most of us from the Texas compound didn’t know anything about Alaska.”

“It’s a long way from Texas. Why’d the PZs from there come up here?” Bull asked.

Hawk leaned a hip against the couch and sampled the beer. Not bad. Nice and hoppy. Light on the tongue. It was odd that neither Kit nor Aric sounded Texan.

“The Reverend said Alaska had less rules and fewer people to interfere with what he wanted to do.” The corners of Kit’s mouth twitched up. “He complained a lot about the police chief here. Your brother?”

“That would be Gabe. He enjoyed ruining Parrish’s plans.” Bull grinned.

Beside Kit, Aric had finished his cookie and was nodding off. Face soft, she brushed a hand over his hair. “I better get him to bed.”

But any fool could see she’d never manage to move herself and the kid off the couch without a hell of a lot of pain.

Hawk stepped forward and lifted the boy, draping him over a shoulder with a hand under his ass. In the last three weeks, he’d learned Aric didn’t wake up once he was asleep. At least not if he felt safe.

He glanced at Frankie. “He got a bed?”

“Beside Kit’s in the downstairs guest room.”

“I’m going to make an early night of it too.” Kit struggled to slide forward on the oversized sectional. It was like watching a fawn struggle out of a snow drift.

Hawk held out his free hand. “Grab on. Go at your own pace.”

She froze.

Hell, what had he been thinking? She wouldn’t accept help from someone who looked like him. Sure wouldn’t touch him.

Even as he started to pull his arm back, she took his hand. Her hand was cold and tiny, but as he closed his fingers around hers, he could feel her callused skin. Even three weeks of being laid-up hadn’t eradicated the evidence of hard work.

Her wary gaze met his, and then, using him as an anchor, she slid forward on the couch. After rising to her feet, she released his hand. “That helped. Thank you.”

Damn. Unexpected pleasure swept through him. She’d let him assist.

Frankie shook her head. “I have trouble extracting myself from this sectional, too, and I don’t have broken ribs. We’ll find a smaller chair for you to use.”