Page 56 of Sworn to Protect

She gives me a sad smile. “I really messed that up, didn’t I?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. It was a dick move on your brother’s part.”

Her jaw tightens. “Yeah, but I let my temper get the best of me. Iknewhe’d pull something like this, and I still lost it.”

“You want what’s best for your kids. That’s not a bad thing.” Ibrush my fingers against hers. “They’re lucky to have you as a mom.”

A small smile tugs at her lips. “You always know what to say.”

I pull her up against me and whisper in her ear, “I also know what todo.”

That sexy little smirk curves her lips. “Oh, do you now?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“When later comes, I plan on testing that theory.”

I grin. “That’s an affirmative, Grace.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

NATE

The condensationfrom Mackenzie’s wine glass beads cold against my palm as I pass it to her. She takes it, our fingers brushing. A slight touch, but enough to send heat curling low in my stomach. She exhales slowly when Cabernet hits her tongue, though the spark from the argument with Jordan still lingers in her eyes.

“Better?” I keep the question casual, leaning back in the wrought iron chair. It creaks under my weight.

She tilts her head, light catching the copper strands escaping her braid. “Define better.” A dry laugh. “Jordan left tire marks halfway through Mrs. Alvarez’s marigolds when he peeled out. So.” Her thumb worries the stem of her glass. “You know how much a landscaper charges per hour here? Because apparently, my brother thinks I’m running Versailles.”

I let the silence stretch between us, counting cicada pulses. Seven. Eight. Nine.

“Trucks are easy to track. Tread patterns, axle width.” My boot nudges the leg of her chair. “Could file a police report. Make him replant every damn petal.”

Her lips twitch. Not quite a smile, but the tension along her jaw softens. “Tempting. But pretty sure Detective Stubbs has betterthings to do.” She sets the glass down with a delicate clink and rolls her neck. “Jordan just … he doesn’t get it. Doesn’t get what we’re going through, what the boys need.”

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, but I don’t take my eyes off hers. “He’s still grieving too, you know. In his own way.”

Mackenzie scoffs, but there’s no real bite to it. “By buying Liam that stupid dirtbike? Against my wishes?”

I shrug, a rueful smile tugging at my mouth. “Men will be men. We do dumb shit sometimes, especially when we’re hurting.”

She studies me then, long enough that my stomach tightens. Not the way townsfolk do like I’m some puzzle to solve. She looks at me like she’s trying to memorize something. Like if she looks hard enough, she’ll see the truth I won’t say.

Then she laughs, and it startles both of us.

“You can say that again.”

She doesn’t pull back when my forearm brushes hers, reaching for the wine bottle. The label’s still damp from the ice bucket—a local vintage.Edington’s Vineyard, 2018.Ethan’s favorite.

The knowledge curdles in my gut. I pour anyway.

“I’ll get Liam set up with lessons,” I say, my voice rougher than before. “We can go about this safely.”

Her expression softens. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Damn it. My window for telling the truth is closing. Maybe it’s already shut.

Her pinky finger hooks around the base of her refilled glass. “Tell me something true.”

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