That's all it would take to get every Bradford and James to come running. They all stuck together, no matter what. It didn't matter if it was one of the younger Bradford boys that didn't know how to reign in his appetite or arrogance and got himself into trouble or one of their elderly relatives who couldn't manage to take care of themselves any longer, if a Bradford or James was in trouble everyone showed up. They worked it out together, whether that meant kicking someone's ass, bailing someone out of jail, or taking them in and giving them a place to live.

They didn't turn their backs on family. Ever. The only time you didn't show up was if you were in labor, dead or dying. If none of those things occurred and you didn't show up when you were needed, you better change your name, pack your bags and haul ass for the border, because as soon as the crisis was over, every Bradford and James would be coming for your ass and an explanation.

“Well?” she asked as Trevor sat down on the chair across from her, shooting her a grin that she was all too familiar with. It was the same grin that her brothers used seconds before they started spouting bullshit, the one they used to get away with everything and to get women to trip over themselves to please them. Quite simply put, it was the Bradford smile.

It was the same grin that her Grandpa, well, really Great Uncle, Wes used to use when he wanted Grandma, really Great Aunt by marriage, Beth to make him fresh biscuits and jam for his mid-morning snack. She could still remember Grandpa Wes giving Grandma Beth that Bradford smile as he tried to sweet talk Grandma into baking him a double batch of biscuits. Grandma Beth would give him a stern look as she huffed and puffed about all the work it would take to make the biscuits even as she made them. She would smile that sweet smile that belonged solely to her when Grandpa Wes was looking the other way.

God, she missed Grandma and Grandpa. They’d been gone ten years now, but she thought about them every day, especially when her brothers used the Bradford charm. She missed spending time with them and cherished the little time that she’d had with them. She would have seen them more often, but with the ban and all it limited their time to weekends and holidays. That was the one thing her father never refused them, a visit to their grandparents.

Her father loved them too, which wasn’t surprising since Grandpa Wes and Grandma Beth helped raise her father and his four brothers after they’d lost their parents in the fire. Just like now, every Bradford showed up the moment word got out and within hours of finding out that her real grandparents hadn’t made it out of the fire, her father and uncles had a home, a real home with Grandpa Wes and Grandma Beth and their brood of boys. Things had been tight with thirteen boys to feed and clothe, but her grandparents never complained or let any of the boys know just how badly they’d struggled.

They never let anything get them down and always worked so hard to push ahead. They made sure that every single boy was well prepared to go out into the real world. They also made sure that they were there if any of the boys needed a helping hand. They made a lot of sacrifices for all their boys and she knew that they’d done it out of love and not because they expected anything in return. They certainly hadn’t expected all their boys and the rest of the Bradford bunch to show up one day and demolish their small house.

The place had been barely better than a shack and because they refused any help from the boys as a thank you for all they’d done, the boys took matters into their own hands. They had the house demolished in one day, cleared out the next and a beautiful new house built within two months as well as the mortgage paid off. Her father, uncles, and cousins all chipped in and worked on the house on their days off, before and after work and didn’t stop until Grandma Beth had the small picket fence and rose bushes that she’d always dreamed of.

Rory hadn’t been born when they built it, but it was one of her most favorite places in the world to visit when she was a child. The cottage was sweet, cozy and filled with love. It also didn’t hurt that it was twenty miles away from Connor and provided her with much needed breaks. Short breaks, but they were enough sometimes to help her calm down before she did something like commit murder.

He’d been such a miserable little bastard, she thought, but a really cute one.

“What’s with that little smile of yours?” Trevor asked, drawing her attention back to the problem at hand.

Two fully grown Bradford males breaking the ban and in her house.

Since she really couldn’t afford the “Bradford Fine,” she knew that she was going to have to make this quick and get them out of here before her cousins did something to give themselves away and she would be faced with a two thousand dollar fine and a night in jail. Yes, the fine was steep, but then again, according to local gossip, so was the damage the Bradfords had reportedly done to the town.

“She’s smiling because she’s happy to see me,” Jason grumbled as he stumbled past her, looking like he was in a lot of pain. He pressed his hand to his stomach as he moved towards the end couch, but after a slight pause he shrugged and dropped down onto the couch, right next to her.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m smiling,” she said, dryly, realizing that she was indeed smiling and surprised that it was because of Connor. Not that she hadn’t found herself smiling recently when she thought of him, but that was for the sweet, funny Connor that she was starting to care too much about. This was the first time that she’d ever been able to think of the pain in the ass Connor who used to live to torment her, and smile.

“I know,” Jason said on a drawn out sigh as he flopped over and curled up so that his head was resting on her lap and he could curl back up into the fetal position.

“Are you going to tell me what you ate?” she asked, settling back and resigning herself to being Jason’s pillow.

“Pumpkin pie,” Jason grumbled on a groan as he curled up into himself.

“For the last f**king time!” Trevor snapped. “That was a fudge brownie, ass**le.”

Rory couldn’t help but frown at that announcement, because the big baby curled up on the couch was a Bradford and if there was one thing a Bradford knew, it was food. It didn’t matter what color you dyed it, if it was burnt, squished or ten weeks past its expiration date and was growing a fuzzy blue, white and green habitat, a Bradford would figure out what it was by the first bite and by the second bite he would know if it would make him sick. Not that they would stop eating it if they figured out that it was going to make them sick, because they wouldn’t. A true Bradford would take the risk.

“It was orange, gooey and smelled like pumpkin and nutmeg!” Jason snapped at Trevor before turning a glare on her. “Would it kill you to rub my back? I’m dying here!”

Knowing that he wouldn’t stop bitching until she did it, she gave in. After about ten seconds, Jason decided to get a little more comfortable and flopped over onto his stomach and sprawled out on the couch. When she didn’t recommence with the back rubbing fast enough he cleared his throat and just in case she didn’t take the hint, the bastard reached down and pinched the back of her calf.

“Ow!” she yelped, but she moved her ass and started rubbing his back, knowing that the big jerk would only keep bugging the shit out of her until she gave in and did what he wanted. “Demanding bastard,” she muttered as she rubbed his back.

“Nice to see that you’re still a bully,” Jason grumbled, silently demanding that she rub faster by wiggling until she got the damn hint.

“How am I the bully? You pinched me, you bastard!” she snapped at him, but wasn’t foolish enough to stop rubbing.

“Because you called me a naughty, naughty name,” Jason said on a huff that was quickly followed by a little sigh of pleasure as she rubbed between his shoulders.

“Called you a naughty name?” she repeated in disbelief, foolishly pausing in her labor and earning another pinch. “Ow! Stop doing that, ass**le!”

“Again with the name calling,” Jason sighed.

“She was always so mean to us,” Trevor mused just as an odd crunching noise caught her attention.

She moved her glare away from the large bastard using her lap as a pillow to the large bastard sprawled out in the chair across from her and snapped, “Oh my God! Stop eating that!”