Page 69 of Thornhill Road

“Club business. I’ve got to go.” Even after he said it, he shoveled another bite of pancakes into his mouth and immediately started spearing the last of what was on his plate onto his fork.

“Oh. Alright.”

Armed with my new awareness of whatclub businessmight be, I wasn’t so sure I wanted anymore of my lunch.

“Should I—”

“Pack that bag. We’ll meet at the bar later. Not sure how long this’ll take, so plan on after dinner. I’ll let you know if any of that changes.”

He took his last bite, and my uncertainty increased.

As if he could sense my mood as easily as I’d felt his, he slowed down enough to look at me and say, “Tess, what’d I tell you?”

I shook my head, not sure what he was referencing. “About what?”

“I lean in where I’m needed—don’t find myself on the wrong end of a barrel every time there’s club business to be handled. You need peace, that’s what I’ve got to give. I’m not givin’ you a play-by-play every time I walk out that door. You know what you know, and that’s enough. You’re just gonna have to trust me.”

It would have been a lie to say I’d wrapped my head around all he’d shared the previous weekend. It was more of a work in progress. Still, I reminded myself he’d been a Wild Stallion for almost twenty years, then I reminded myself he’d trustedmewith the truth of what that meant.

He was right. I’d made my choice. I needed to trust him.

“Tonight. Meet at the bar,” I murmured.

He jerked his chin in a nod, stood and pocketed his phone, then leaned down to press a quick, hard kiss against my lips.

“Later, baby.”

“Bye, Mustang,” I said as he went.

I didn’t finish my plate, but I did work on being okay with the fact that my man was off doingclub businesswhile I cleaned the kitchen. This was the first time he’d been called away to do such a thing when he was with me, but it wasn’t going to be the last. I wanted to be his woman, not his weak link. I was going to have to get used to this part of our relationship, so I made it a point to do more than sit around and worry.

After I was finished with the dishes, I went to pack an overnight bag. Then I hopped in the shower, taking extra time to shave and wash my hair. I was dressed and getting ready to power on my blow drier when I heard my phone ring. I hurried back to my room, hoping it was Mustang.

It wasn’t him.

But it wasn’t disappointment I felt when I read the name on my screen.

A different sort of worry twisted my stomach when I answered Mitchell’s call.

I’d been to see Sharon less than twenty-four hours ago, and she slept the entire visit. That week, she’d been significantly frailer and more lethargic with no appetite. We all knew she was getting close.

“Hi, Mitch,” I answered gently.

“Tess—will you come? Please?”

Even though he couldn’t see me do it, I nodded.

“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

We disconnected without further discussion, and I went to grab a fresh pair of scrubs.

Ten minutes later, on my way out the door, I shot Mustang a text.

I got called into work. Not sure how long I’ll be. Will keep you posted.

Three hours later, Sharonbreathed her last, surrounded by the ones she loved most in the world. It was a couple of hours after that before they were ready to say goodbye. I gave them the space they needed, helping with little Emilia until she fell asleep next to me on the couch. Around eight o’clock, Renee came out to switch places with me, informing me both Mitchell and Lance were ready for me to make the necessary calls to have Sharon’s body picked up and taken to the funeral home.

I stepped out onto the porch to make my calls and to get a little fresh air. The sun was starting to set, and the sky was painted in orange and pink hues. It was peaceful, just as Sharon’s passing had been, and I found it incredibly comforting.

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