Page 95 of Just My Luck

His voice cracked through the haze. “I love you.”

I gulped. The riot of emotions I’d experienced in the last few hours was utterly draining. “I know. I love you too.”

His dark eyes were intense as he smoothed the hair from my face.

“Where did you go?” I asked.

He stepped back so I could look at him. His eyes shifted to the side, and my stomach tilted with a nauseating flop. “Jared never left the area. I’d been keeping tabs on him, so today I sought him out and made sure he knew who he was dealing with. His days of scaring you just because he thinks he can are over.”

My eyes went wide as my thoughts jumbled together. “Did you... hurt him?”

His jaw tensed. “I wanted to fucking kill him. I almost lost my cool and pummeled him without thinking twice, but thankfully I had some help.”

My brows pinched together. “Your brother?”

Abel nodded. “Royal was there, but it was actually Lee Sullivan who beat the shit out of him with one punch.”

Surprise pulled a laugh from me. “Lee?”

Abel wound an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him. “That guy’s got a surprisingly effective right hook.”

Abel turned and led me into the house.

Our home.

“Right now I just want a normal night with the kids.” He looked down at me, affection and reassurance shining in his eyes. “We can talk about our next steps later. Can we do that?”

“Yeah.” I squeezed his middle and leaned into his comforting warmth. “We can do that.”

Two weeks wentby without a word from Jared or his lawyers. I contacted a family law attorney and laid everything out in the open. She assured me that she would fight tooth and nail for us. Given Jared’s past history with aggressive behavior and my previous order of protection, she was confident I wouldn’t lose the kids—it was my only thread of hope.

I leaned into that nugget of relief as we all tried to squeeze out the last drops of fun as summer started to wane. I also realized that Abel’s comment about having a normal night turned out to be painfully accurate.

After that night, something had shifted—he was quieter and more intense than before. Something was weighing on him, but he wasn’t letting me past his walls to figure out exactly what it was.

On the back patio, Abel was grilling hamburgers while Ben and Tillie played a rowdy game of tag. When I looked out the back window, I watched as smoke billowed out from the grill.

I popped my head out the door. “Hey! I think your burgers are burning.”

Abel jolted and looked at the grill. “Shit.” He fumbled to move the patties away from the flames and salvage our dinner.

Lately, despite the lawyer’s reassurances, I would often find Abel staring into space. A pinch poked behind my ribs.

I walked outside and set the platter of burger toppings on the table. My hand found his back. “Lost in thought?”

He frowned at the blackened food. “Something like that.”

I watched him and worried. Whenever I had asked him about what was weighing so heavily on his mind, he simply smiled softly and said that it was nothing. His stress baking told me otherwise—we’d had more cookies, pies, and brownies in the last two weeks than we could eat.

“The salad is ready and lemonade is freshly poured.” I infused my voice with brightness to try to lighten the mood.

He only nodded and scrubbed a hand against his face.

“Chickens!” I called to the kids. “Dinner’s ready. Time to wash up.”

Ben chased his sister, making her giggle, and they made their way into the house.

“These burgers are shit,” Abel complained as he scowled at the overdone patties.

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