Page 91 of Shattered Promise

“Your brother’s here.”

The words land like a punch. Her whole posture changes. Shoulders draw up, eyes widen, and her arm drops long enough for her to turn off the shower, snatch the towel off the hook, and wrap it around herself. She’s all sharp movements and precision.

Her fingers bunch the fabric at her sternum. “Does he know I’m here?”

I shake my head once. “No. Monitor was on. He followed me in when Theo woke up.”

Her lips part like she’s about to say something else. But nothing comes out. Just a shallow breath and a glance past me toward the bedroom behind me. Her face softens, and I glance down to see Theo crawling over the threshold. Toward her.

“How’s my little duck?” she says in that sing-songy voice she sometimes uses with him.

My son’s face lights up, a grin splitting his face as he crawls faster toward her.

“I haven’t told anyone about the cabin. About me staying,” she says to me, her gaze locked on Theo as she steps out of the shower.

“I’ll take care of it,” I say, already stepping back.

“Thank you, Mason,” she murmurs, her voice low, something soft curling around the edge of it.

She bends down and scoops up Theo, who immediately plants his face into her neck and sighs. It knocks a fresh rush of emotion through me.

She props him on her hip, the towel gaping at her shoulder, and he clings to her with both arms, like he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he lets go. His little fingers clutch the edge of the towel, and Abby just laughs, low and warm, her cheek pressed to his hair.

My son is happy when he’s with her. It’s that simple.

I should leave. But I don’t.

I step forward, palming the back of her head, dragging my fingers through damp strands as I bend her back and press my mouth to hers.

Her lips part instantly. Her tongue meets mine like she was already halfway there. The kiss is hard and fast and deep, like neither of us remembers how to do anything but this.

Time warps. Folds in on itself.

Her mouth is heat and hunger and something else—something grounding.

I plant a quick, firm kiss on her forehead, then step back.

“I’ll let you know when he’s gone, but Theo’s gotta come with me.”

She nods, towel clutched tight at her chest, whiskey-colored eyes locked on mine like she knows I’ll take care of it.

And she’d be right. I pull the door closed behind me, jaw tight, heart punching against my ribs. Then I scrub a hand down my face and brace myself to walk back into the kitchen—into Beau’s grin and all the goddamn landmines waiting to blow.

Beau watches me for a beat, leaning back against the counter, arms folded. His brow arches. “So yourshower friendhas met your son?”

I shake my head, slow. “Don’t.”

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re saying it with your face.”

He grins. “You sure I can’t meet whoever’s in there? I’m great with new people. Very charming.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I deadpan.

He tips his head back and laughs. He pushes off the counter, hands up in surrender. “Yeah, yeah. Message received. I’ll let myself out.”

Beau’s eyes linger a second too long—reading, always reading—but he just flashes a lazy salute and heads for the door. Thescreen bangs behind him, and I watch through the window as he jogs down the steps, keys already out before he hits the gravel.

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