Page 162 of Rule Breakers Fall Hardest

Rosie’s father closes his car door and eyes me as I idle at the end of the driveway.

Has he finally come to kill me?

Since he’s already seen me, I’ve lost my opportunity to flee.

I pull all the way into the driveway and park beside the silver car.

Sammy babbles in the back seat, the sound easing my trepidation a fraction. He says a few words here and there, but we’re unfortunately still working on Dada. I swear the kid refuses to say it just to spite me.

The instant I step out of the car, her dad isright fucking there.

Papa Mode Activated.

Hand on his chest, I give him a light shove. “Move back. I have to get my baby out of the car.”

Silently, he concedes, taking a step back and shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

With a wary look at him, I turn and slide the back door open, then unlatch Sammy’s car seat so I can carry him inside. I don’t say a word to Chandler as I pass.

This unexpected appearance has me fuming.

How dare he say the things he did to Rosie, then just show up here out of the blue?

He follows me to the door, not saying a word.

I unlock it, but instead of pushing it open, I swing back around to face him, nearly taking him out at the knees with the car seat carrier.

“I didn’t invite you in, Chandler.”

He arches a brow. “Are you seriously not going to let me in?”

I stare him down, puffing out my chest. Maybe the move is an overreaction, but I can’t help but feel protective of Rosie and Sammy. “I’m thinking about it. You hurt my wife. I don’t take that lightly.”

The muscle in his jaw ticks. “That’s why I’m here. To apologize.”

I snort. “Took your sweet time, didn’t you?”

He blows out a breath, looking up at the sky like he’s hoping he can gather strength from the heavens. “Yeah, I did. Are you going to let me in or not?”

“Might as well. Youaremy father-in-law.”

He flinches at that, which only serves to make me grin with amusement.

“Is Rosie home?”

Hand on the knob, I turn my head dramatically. “Well, her car isn’t here, so it’s safe to say she’s not.”

Rather than admonishing me for my sarcasm—he is my elder, after all, and in our parents’ social circles; that kind of behavior is highly frowned upon—Chandler silently follows me inside where I set the carrier down on the floor and unstrap Sammy.

There’s a disgusted curl to Chandler’s lip, which only makes my hackles rise.

Sammy might’ve been an unexpected surprise, but that doesn’t make him any less loved or special to me or to Rosie.

I get my little guy settled in his highchair, then head for the fridge. He smacks his palms against the plastic tray, chantingblana, which I’ve deduced means banana, one of his favorite foods.

“Feel free to sit and wait for her,” I offer with a wave at the couch.

The last thing I want is for Chandler to make himself at home in our house, in our safe space, but even though Rosie is hurt, I don’t think she’d take too kindly to me kicking her dad out on the street.

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