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I’m taken aback by what my dad said, but I won’t stand down. Not now. Still, I have to blink back tears. “Not that I owe you an explanation, but I’m very sorry I missed our breakfast.” I turn to Austin. “And Austin? Don’t you ever talk to my father like that again.”

Austin opens his mouth—

“No,” I say. “Don’t say he threatened you first. I heard it, and I’m mad as hell at him for it. Both of you should know better.”

“Baby, I won’t let anyone talk about you like that, even your father,” Austin says. “However, we’re on the same side, caring about you. Mr. Vance, I apologize.”

“It’s Mayor Vance,” Dad says, “and you should be apologizing to Carly.”

“He has no reason to apologize to me.” I whip my hand to my hips. “He’s done nothing wrong. In fact, he’s done everything right.”

That doesn’t make my dad any happier.

I push on. “You should apologize to him.”

Dad scoffs. “Not in this lifetime.”

“Then we’re done here. Unless you want to tell me how you ended up here in the first place. Did you search every house in town or come straight here?”

“I don’t trust them,” Dad says.

I tip up my chin. “I do.”

“You don’t know everything.”

“Go, Dad. Go home. You can tell me all about why you hate the Bridgers so much, but standing here, in their house? It’s not okay.”

Austin’s hand settles on my hip again and he gives it a squeeze. I’m reassured, but it doesn’t feel good to tell my dad off.

His lips thin into a straight line. He glares at Austin, and then at Chance and Miles in turn. He sets his hat back on his head, turns, and storms out. The front door slams in his wake.

No one moves. My father sucked all the oxygen from the room with his departure.

Austin’s pocket starts playing “Superwoman” by Alicia Keys. He pulls out his phone and immediately answers it.

“Mom. Is everything ok?”

I look up at him as he listens. He didn’t look the least bit worried facing off with my dad, but he does now.

“What? Are you fucking kidding me?”

19

AUSTIN

After what just went down, I hate leaving Carly with her dad all pissed. Even to talk to my mom. So I don’t. I tag her hand when she thinks to step away from me and wrap my arm around her. She looks up at me but stays quiet.

The guys already know about my mom. The last time she and I talked—we texted a few times since—I was in Chance’s truck headed into town.

Carly knows about Mom’s illness. This call though, isn’t about that because…

Fuck.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Sure that Greg secretly works for Sea-Air and has been taking on our flights to steal our transport clients? Yes. I’m sure.”

Greg was hired to be my fill-in while I’m in Montana, to take all the routes I usually fly. That includes passengers who reserved travel through our website, and also cargo—like the day Shankle showed up and I was shuffling oysters to a client.