Jimmy's head whipped around and then he was scrambling after his brother to stop him from pulling up the turf. Sunshine traipsed over to investigate as well, the frisbee still hanging from her jaw.

"Nagyi?" Cole asked.

"Means grandma," Gideon told him, then he turned to face Cole fully. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just needed some air," Cole shrugged and looked around the expansive yard and endless bright blue sky. His eyes were naturally drawn to the kids again and he felt that little prick in his heart as he imagined Gideon at that age, perhaps already acting like a little adult the way Jimmy did.

Although, Gideon was the younger brother. So, more likely at that age, he'd been like Henry, sweet and doted on. Protected by his older brothers until more adult responsibilities to the family twisted them. Maybe the dichotomy of growing up the youngest and then ending up the most hands-on among them lent itself to his scornful attitude and habit of acting out. Or maybe his older brothers had always picked on him, even back then. If that was the case, it wouldn't be hard to imagine where Gideon's attitude came from.

"Why do you do this?" Cole asked.

Gideon arched a brow, "Do what?"

"Put up with your family when you'd clearly rather die?"

"Oh, that." Gideon shifted his weight to one foot. "Well…"

It was a little hard not to get distracted by the way his legs looked in those slacks. And the way his shirt fell across his chest. He'd taken his jacket off and slung it over one of his arms. The whole getup was tailored perfectly to him, so it accentuated his frame, hinting at the muscle beneath without making it look like he was straining the fabric.

"I guess it's habit. And the money is hard to turn down," he said after a while.

Cole blinked, then rolled his eyes. Of course. The man would starve without his private chef or unlimited credit to use for take-out. "Is it really worth the money though?"

Gideon chuckled, watching the boys tumble around in the grass with their golden retriever—a deceptively ordinary sight. He rubbed his hand across his mouth, then scratched his cheek. That five o'clock stubble was coming in strong along his jaw.

"For some people," his eyes flicked toward the house, "the money stops having any meaning. When you're buying a Benz or a husband, it's easy to forget what money means to most people. For most people, it's a meal on the table."

Cole listened with no small amount of shock. He'd been one of those people. Until the Bartas walked into his life and started throwing around hundreds of thousands of dollars like it was pocket change to them. Cole half thought that when Gideon paid off his debt, he hadn't a clue what an exorbitant amount of money it had been. How long it would have taken Cole to square it away himself.

But apparently he had at least an inkling.

"Most of the people who work for us aren't buying Benz," Gideon continued, before stopping himself and shooting Cole an unreadable look. "It's not like I'm some bleeding heart or something, but most of the family has a pretty superficial understanding of the actual logistics, and on top of that, tend to fuck things up spectacularly when given too much say."

"Example number one would be James. He was so fucking stupid. Did all that shit with the Malnar and now we've got a territory war going on. And for what?" He rubbed his hand over his head, messing up the slick-back that the product in his hair was no longer keeping neatly in place. Cole hardly dared to breath, worried that Gideon might realize he was actually talking to him about the business and clam back up.

"We're no saints or anything, but it's a shame to see an operation that was about as good as it gets when it comes to the kind of things we do get run into the ground," Gideon sighed. "Especially when I know someone else will just take over if we lose control."

"It's a little ironic to hear you refer to yourselves as saints," Cole muttered.

Gideon clicked his tongue, "I think I remember saying specifically that we are not saints."

Cole ignored him. "It's ironic since the rest of the city sees you as the spawn of Satan."

"A reputation like that is one of the first steps in running a smooth operation. You need to be taken seriously."

"So it's not out of obligation to your family, but because of professional integrity? And maybe a little bit of obligation to your men. And the money."

Gideon shrugged. "How come you didn't want to let the club crash and burn along with Logan?"

He had a point, Cole could understand. And it wasn't as if Gideon could just hand everything off to someone the way he was handing ownership and management of the club over to Elijah. Presumably Ezra had already proved to be insufficient leadership. And their mother was trying her best to fuck off to Italy. And Rani wasn't involved…much, at least.

"How come it has to be you?" Cole pouted.

There was a smile in Gideon's voice when he answered, though his words mirrored Cole's thoughts. "Who else?"

"You mom gets to retire and Rani gets to be a pastry chef, but you have to be the devil even though you are the best among them."

This time Gideon tossed his head back and laughed. When Cole glared, he didn't even bother to school his expression, just grinning like mad at him. "Are you getting upset for my sake? Aren't you the one who is always telling me to calm down about the family?"

"It seems stupid that your mom gets to retire and Rani gets to open her restaurant and Ezra gets all the accolades from being the head of the family, and yet somehow, you are still the one making sure it's possible for them to do any of that."

Instead of taking any of his words seriously, Gideon swept him into his arms and kissed him on the forehead. "It's nice when you worry about me, but it's fine. Like I said before, I don't even usually come to these dinners, so it doesn't usually bother me. And it's worth it to be able to buy my husband a new Monet whenever he wants one."

Gideon had yet to do that, but Cole had no doubt he would.

Still, he smacked Gideon's chest in indignation, "Stop pretending you don't have a conscience and just tell me you don't want to leave the men you work with hanging." He kept speaking even though Gideon's lips trailed along his cheekbone to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. "You don't have to act like you don't mind it or the stuff you do doesn't bother you or that it isn't bad. Otherwise you wouldn't want to keep it from me so much. I know, and it's fine."

Before Gideon could respond to that, Henry bounded over and started pulling at his slacks with muddied hands.

"Nooo!!" Jimmy cried in horror, only a few steps behind. "I'm so sorry Uncle Gideon."

Cole glanced back toward the house at the boy's minder. He'd bet Gideon's money that she was a permanently employed nanny rather than a babysitter. Whatever her role, she barely glanced up from her phone before deeming everything under control and ignoring the outbreak of shouting.

Henry babbled and pawed at Gideon, too excited to actually pronounce his words. His brother, on the other hand, tried to pull him away as he spewed apologies and looked in horror at the mud stains. It was…a little heart wrenching.

"Hey, hey," Gideon soothed. For the first time since arriving tonight, he crouched low on the boy's eye-level to address them. "It's alright. I'll get them dry cleaned. My cleaner's has definitely seen worse than this."

Cole wondered if the cleaner was on the payroll and saw bloodstains or if those clothes were just burned. That would be almost like burning straight money with how expensive Gideon's clothes were.

Gideon's eyes crinkled as he donned his most reassuring smile—one that Cole was intimately familiar with. And he used his most calming tone, the pleasant low one that came from deep in his chest and could probably pacify a raging bear. Cole understood exactly how Jimmy felt as he stared at Gideon in awe, shoulders relaxing in hesitant increments.

"Clothes can easily be cleaned or replaced," Gideon said firmly, putting his hands out, palms up in offering. "Your brother can't be. I know you are trying to watch out for him, but don't just scold him all the time, alright? He needs to know you are on his side."

Jimmy's face flushed and he abruptly let go of Henry. Gideon reached out to ruffle his hair, the reassuring smile never leaving his face. Then he grasped Henry's dirty hands and turned his attention to the younger boy.

"Henry," he said firmly. "I can't understand you when you speak that fast. Can you take a deep breath with me and try again?"

It took a few tries, but eventually Henry inhaled in time with Gideon, then exhaled. Then he proceeded to explain his grand plan for finding buried treasure. Jimmy looked a bit pained, but Gideon burst into laughter. He asked for more details, encouraging Henry to babble on.

Cole, who felt a bit like an awkward bystander, scowled at the babysitter. In his mind, she'd been demoted from nanny, no matter what her role actually was. She was no nanny if she was going to piddle around on her phone instead of actually guiding the children not to dig up their grandmother's yard or slap their muddy hands on their uncle's pants, especially when those were things Jimmy seemed to think would get them in trouble. It wasn't Jimmy's job to mind his brother if a nanny was around.

Of course, Cole's idea of a nanny was Mary Poppins, so who knew what they were really like?

He tuned back into Gideon giving Henry a little lecture about not digging unless he'd gotten permission to do so. The redness in Jimmy's cheeks had been fading, but returned full force when Gideon gave him a nod and referred to him as a person of authority that his brother could ask for permission. He also told Henry that if he needed to tell someone something, it was best to call out to them, rather than touch them, unless it was an emergency.

He sent Henry toddling off back toward Sunshine, who was gnawing ferociously at the frisbee. Then, he turned to Jimmy. "Rather than getting upset too when he's excited like that," Gideon told him, waving his hands around a little in demonstration, "try to stay calm and help him calm down. Unless he's in danger or something, don't just pull at him. Help him calm down and fix his actions himself."

Jimmy nodded gravely.

Cole rubbed a hand over his face, caught between helpless attraction at this display of Gideon's skill with children and no small amount of distress that he was coaching one of the children how to better parent the other. In this family, it was a kindness, though.

"You're good with kids," Cole said when Jimmy ran off and Gideon stood back up.

Gideon hummed. "Learned a lot from dog training."

A surprised laugh escaped from Cole. "Dog training?"

"Sure," Gideon said. "Used to have a dog at the house for defense until a couple years ago. When you have that kind of trained dog around, you as the owner need to be trained how to deal with them. I got the rundown from my trainer, but also read a bunch of stuff about it."

Cole shook his head. The house loomed behind them, shadows lengthening as the sun made its final descent below the rooftop. They should go back. But he desperately did not want to. Being out here with the grass and the kids and a dog and the open sky was tolerable.

"I'm the one who told him to get Henry to tell their mom he wanted an African Grey Parrot," Gideon admitted off-hand. "Teaching the younger generation my manipulative ways. Still sure I'm such a good person?"

If Cole rolled his eyes any harder, they would probably pop right out of his head. "I never claimed to think you are a good person. But you are thoughtful and kind to the people that matter." His eyes strayed back to the boys, before he turned to face Gideon head-on. "Besides. I'm not with you because you are a good person. Or a rich person. Or a bad person. I'm with you just because I like you."

Gideon's eyes softened and he stepped forward into Cole's space. Just as his palm slid to cup the back of his neck and Cole's eyes began to fall shut, someone not so far away from them whispered, "Yuck, they're going to kiss."

Someone else, equally hushed, scoffed. "That's what married people do. Stop staring; it's rude."

Cole snorted and put a hand on Gideon's chest to push him away. "Let's get this night over with so we can go home and kiss without interruptions," he suggested, slotting his fingers into Gideon's to pull him back toward the house. Without resistance or complaint, Gideon allowed himself to be towed along. It made Cole feel a bit like a tiny little tug boat pulling a huge looming ship.