Page 271 of A Song for You

I have a surprise for you. Chloe is sleeping

over at Sophie’s tonight. Meet me at the club

at seven.

Completely. Irrevocably. Head over heels,

Your husband

Seventy-One

Jay

Riptide by Vancouver Sleep Clinic

Settling into the booth across from Frank, I nod toward the drink he’s ordered for me. “Thanks. Sorry I’m late. I was doing laundry.”

With a shake of his head, he smirks. “Oh, how times have changed.”

I laugh. “You have no fucking idea.” I take a sip of my drink and smile. “How are things in Bristol?”

“Not Boston,” he grumbles. Then he shrugs and sits a little straighter. “But they’re okay. The baby is cute, and Cash spends nearly half the day just staring at her.”

I laugh. I can imagine I’d be the same way.

Frank and I started these lunches months back. Over the past year, I’ve come to trust him more than just about anyone. Vanessa’s blackmail and Evan McCabe’s threats made me realize I couldn’t protect Cat alone. The stakes are too high. So I turned to the one man I know will protect her the way I do—who would pick her over his own damn family, just like me.

And he did. He’s kept his ear to the ground. He’s kept tabs on the Mob’s activities and sifted through each threat to determine which are real in order to keep us two steps ahead. There is no one I trust more. With Cat’s well-being. And Chloe’s. Along with the truth of who she is to me.

The man put himself through college, then went on to fight overseas all to earn a place outside his family. Asking him to return to that life wasn’t something I took lightly. But he didn’t bat an eye at the request. His only response was “just tell me what you need.” That alone makes him one of the most honorable men I’ve ever met.

“Heard anything from your brother?”

Frank gives a quick shake of his head and scans the room. I imagine he’s always doing that. Always checking to see whether his conversations are being overheard. Always looking for a threat. Being the son of a mobster surely comes with a lifetime of these ticks. But being in the Marines only added to it. “Has he sent any more friendly gifts?”

I cough out a dry laugh. “Not since the whiskey bottle the night of the engagement party.”

Frank nods and blows out a breath, his leg bouncing as he drums his fingers against his drink. “Good. That’s good. How’s Cat?”

“She’s…” My wife is working herself to death. But after our conversation last night, I’m optimistic that she’ll take a step back. “Truthfully, she’s struggling.”

His forehead wrinkles as he studies me. And then he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I really wish I could do something to fix this for them. Cash misses her, I know that. He just doesn’t know how to make it right.”

“He could start by apologizing,” I grumble.

Frank tilts his glass toward me. “I agree. I’ll talk to him again.”

Resting my elbows on the table, I blow out a breath. “That’s actually not why I asked you to meet me today.”

“No?”

I run my tongue across my teeth, taking a second to prepare myself for what I’m about to ask. “Cat needs something.”

“Anything. You know I’d do anything for her.”

I smile as I settle back in my seat. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

Seventy-Two