Page 36 of Broken Pact

That’s what I’m afraid of.

I walk backward in slow, almost swinging steps. “I’ll think about it.”

His head jerks back. “You’re gonna think about it—that’s it?”

I nod and pivot on the ball of my foot, shielding my grin while giving him a great view of my ass. And if I put a little extra swagger in my steps, then that’s just a random coincidence. “Thanks for fixing my car, Jagger. I’ll be back for it tomorrow.”

“With strawberry shortcakes?” he calls, his voice bright with hope.

My laughter is the only response I give him as the bells jingle with my exit.

My first inclination is to call Eve and get her input, give her the play-by-play of the past few days. But I know I can’t. Because if I decide to do this, then I need everyone to believe it. I trust my cousin with my life, but I don’t want to ask her to lie to her men. And if they know, then we might as well tell everyone it’s fake, which would make the whole thing moot.

I wave to the guy at the security building as I leave the compound. “See ya. And Rocks? Sorry about that. Miscommunication.” I shrug and return his smile.

“No problem, Carter. You have a good day, yeah?”

I nod and start walking toward Main Street. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do, and the only things that help me do that are baking and excellent playlists. But first, coffee.

19

JASPER

The bell above the door jingles, and I have to tuck my face against my shoulder to hide my grin. It’s hard not to be impressed with myself right now. I thought for sure she was gonna make me work for it a little more, but I was pretty fucking convincing.

I lean to the right and call out, “You ready to come over to the dark side, baby?”

“Baby?” Hawke chuckles. “Damn, Jagger, you tryin’ to sweet-talk me before 10 a.m.?”

My shoulders tighten in surprise while my lips press together tightly. I shake off the disappointment circling around my neck. So she didn’t immediately turn around and come back to tell me what a brilliant plan this is. I didn’t expect her to.

By my best guess, it’s gonna take my girl three days before she comes back with an answer. She’s going to need some time to accept that it’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.

“Nah, man, you know that wasn’t for you.” I offer with a shrug.

He strolls through the garage, his boots thudding against the floor. “No shit, bro. You know, I would’ve paid good money to see her face when you called her baby.”

He leans his ass against the front of her car next to me and crosses his arms over his chest, a devilish grin bright on his face. “But seriously, did she punch you? Threaten your balls? Oh, I know,” he says, snapping his fingers and pointing at me. “She gave you a verbal lashing, didn’t she! She’s too fucking good at that sometimes.”

I let the moment hang in the air, savoring the subtle victory of the day. With deliberate slowness, I slide my gaze over to meet my friend’s. I barely lift my brow. “Don’t you worry about what my girl does for me, yeah?”

He shakes his head with subdued laughter, like he doesn’t understand me. “I hope you know what you’re doing, man. I’d hate to see her eat you alive. Again.”

The reminder isn’t the vibe I’m going for today. I refocus on the mess under her hood. “If you’re here, why don’t you get your ass to work, yeah?”

He pushes off the front of her car, his hands in air. “I’m not really here for a couple hours. I came to find you because there’s some chick at the front gate by Rocks, claims to be your sister or something.”

“Fuck.” I straighten up, wiping my hands on a rag as I hustle across the room.

What the hell is she doing here? And which she is it exactly? I sincerely doubt it’s my oldest half-sister. Lydia’s a year younger than me, which puts dear ol’ dad as a cheating asshole after just a mere two years of marriage to my ma. But I sincerely doubt it’s her. I’ve never talked to her, but the text she sent was pretty cut and dry.

Lydia: I don’t care about the man we share DNA with, and I don’t care about you. No offense. Have a nice life.

That leaves Zoey and Naomi. At twenty-seven and twenty-five respectively, they’ve both texted me a handful of times since we found out.

But my bet’s on Naomi. She’s an . . . aggressive texter.

“Bro, since when do you have a sister?”

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