Page 44 of My Boyfriend Marks Trees

What he implied… “Maybe he’ll get arrested,” her weak reply.

“These days he’s more likely to get a slap on the wrist than go to prison.”

How mad would Barry be if he went to jail because of her? “How can you speak about it so calmly? All of you acted as if killing people were an everyday thing.”

“Not for me, but Grams and Gramps did fight in a war. I did warn you they weren’t like other folk.”

“Will they really kill Barry if he shows?”

“Most likely. They understand there’s only one way to deal with that kind of man. The fact they are determined to act is a compliment. They don’t like many people, and yet you’ve already won them over.”

“You mean Greta did.”

“Grams took a shine to you too. She’s not usually that soft-spoken and polite.”

Her eyes rounded. “That was polite?”

“You should hear her when she’s herself. It’s ‘fuck this. Fuck that.’ She was being so nice she didn’t call Derek ‘the little bastard’ once.”

“They’re good people, but I meant what I said. I don’t want them getting in trouble because of me.”

“I’d say the chances of your ex showing are slim to none, so I wouldn’t worry about it. But at least you know they’re prepared, meaning you can sleep in peace. Ain’t no one getting their hands on Greta.”

That was probably the only thing that kept her from fleeing. These people genuinely cared and wanted to keep them safe. And truth be told, while the frank talk did discomfit, Ares and the others did have a point. Now that Barry had decided he wanted Greta, nothing would stop him but death. A terrible thing to think, this was her child’s father. A scumbag who would traumatize a little girl who deserved better. A man who would most likely kill her if they ever met again.

“You’re thinking too much,” Ares murmured against the top of her head as he held her.

“Can you blame me?”

“Nah, stressing about the situation is understandable. Good thing I’ve got something that will fix that.”

“Sleeping pills?”

“Nah, something better. You just need to get naked first.”

Her mouth rounded. “You can’t be serious.”

“Very. Get your butt on the bed and get ready for the best massage of your life.”

She wanted to argue. Wanted to keep tormenting herself. Instead, she stripped and lay face down on the bed.

Ares proceeded to knead her muscles. Working out the knots. Relaxing every inch of her until she felt something other than stress. When she flipped over and reached for him, he was ready.

To her surprise, making love eased even more of her tension. Afterward the intense orgasm, they snuggled, cozy under their pile of blankets, even too hot. The woodstoves in the house kept things toasty.

Ares spooned her from behind, their pajamas—which she’d insisted on them wearing—not really getting in the way of that snuggly intimacy. She fell asleep and woke to Greta beaming at them.

“Mama, wake up and come see all the snow.”

So much snow. They’d gotten forty centimeters overnight, and it was still coming down.

It could have meant backbreaking shoveling, only after the most ridiculous breakfast—fried potatoes, pancakes, bacon, sausage, toast, eggs, and even freshly squeezed orange juice—Derek got the tractor with its plow going, and the boys took turns chugging up and down the driveway. Greta whooped when they took her for a ride on it.

Greta played outside for hours, and so did Ares and Derek. They built her an epic snow fort and a maze in the snow to reach it.

Charlotte preferred the indoors and, after getting shooed from the kitchen, spent much time standing at the window watching.

Worrying.

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