Right now, my only concern is Isla.
Keeping her safe.
Keeping her together.
Keeping her the fuck away from her mother.
I’m not so sure I’ll be very nice to Macie if she tries to pull that shit with her again. I know I’ve seen hints of her bullshit, never enough to warrant a full scale war, but this visit... something has definitely changed. Has twisted in Macie’s head where she has grown bolder.
Maybe it’s the knowledge that no one will contest her. Maybe it’s that she has isolated Isla so completely that she feels comfortable in her cruelty. Or maybe she’s just a sketchy bitch and no one’s thought to challenge her.... yet.
Well, the joke is on her.
I’m not about to let her anywhere near my baby. Not again. Ever. I may not be allowed to have her, but I’m not about to let anyone hurt her.
Not even Nick.
The soft creak of stairs has my attention moving to where the object of my eternal temptation descends. She’s clad in her jeans and thick, purple and black coat. A duffle hangs at her side.
Closer, I notice the damp strands at her temples from washing her face, the fresh coat of makeup to conceal evidence of her crying. But her beautiful eyes are still red and the downward tilt of her pouty mouth has my stomach in knots.
“Come here, baby,” I murmur against my better judgement.
I move to the bottom of the final step just as she reaches it. Even on a tier higher, I still tower over her. Not by much, but I have to bend my head when I kiss the tip of her nose.
My fingers take the bag from her and set it at my feet gingerly, freeing us both up for the arms I circle around her middle. She doesn’t resist. Her need for this crashes through me and I tighten my hold.
“I got you, sweetheart,” I tell her softly, tucking the promise into the curve of her neck.
Her arms circle my shoulders and she’s pressed flat against my chest.
I have to squeeze my eyes shut with how much I need this. How badly I’ve ached for years to have her in my arms for no other reason than to simply hold her. I have dreamed of her between us in bed, curled up safe and warm. Of waking up to her, making dinner with her, sitting on the sofa with her in our lap. I have wanted this woman with an obsessive need I know Nick shares. I know he longs for her as badly as I do.
“He didn’t mean it,” I murmur into the sweet scent of her jasmine body wash. “Nick... he’s just scared.”
She shakes her head. “He’s right.” Reluctantly, she tugs back an inch to peer into my face. “I’m not reliable. I make a mess of everything. You’ll regret—”
I cut her off with a sweep of my thumb over her lips.
“I know none of that’s true.”
But I can’t tell her we would make sure she never has a reason to run again. I can’t explain that I would fight my whole life to protect her. Those lead up to confessions I’m no longer permitted to make.
The best I can do is bump my nose to hers.
“I’m going to fix this,” I say instead, ignoring every voice in my head telling me to shut up. “Going to—”
Macie takes that moment to hurry in, a steel thermos in hand. She interrupts my near idiotic promise to keep her daughter no matter what. Her big eyes blink at the sight of us, but I don’t pull away. I ignore Isla trying to dislodge herself. It’s a tenuous moment I know could bite me in the ass, but I tighten the arm hooked around Isla’s waist. My free hand reaches for the drink.
Macie has the expression of someone who swallowed a bug. Her horror and confusion play a game of tug-o-war behind her tight smile.
“Where’s Nicky?” she stresses through her teeth.
I don’t miss the hidden undertones of her displeasure.
“Getting our bags into the car,” I answer smoothly.
Her gaze shifts to Isla and I don’t miss the churning of gears in the way she’s studying her daughter, analyzing the picture before her.
