“Sleeping. We both passed out for a bit after we got home from the hospital.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. We’ll come back later.”
She started to push herself upright, and KC moved in at once to help her. His exaggerated patience earned him another dramatic eye roll from his wife.
Sean bit back a grin, knowing his brother would never admit Moriah was driving him crazy this close to her delivery date.
“We’ll bring dinner, ” she added.
Sean shook his head. Much as he appreciated them, the last thing he wanted was a full house tonight. He and Grace needed space to decompress, not a family vigil in the living room.
“Why don’t we meet you at Sassy’s for dinner? Tell Brian, Bonnie, and Uncle Dan to meet us.”
“Six o’clock?” KC asked, following Moriah toward the door.
“Perfect.”
“The beach house is all yours, which you probably already knew since you came here. I assume Bonnie gave you this address.”
“Actually, Dan did. He’s already written you off as taken and headed for wedded bliss, by the way, so you might as well go engagement ring shopping because it’s inevitable. That also means Brian is next in line for the old man’s matchmaking. Can’t wait to see that boy go down—hard.”
Sean snorted. The mental image of the middle Malone brother getting blindsided by love was enough to brighten his mood. “That’ll be very entertaining. And I’m going to sit back, watch, and laugh my butt off.”
KC grinned. “So am I. Later, bro.”
“Later.”
After they left, Sean shut and locked the door before making his way down the hall. Sitting outside Grace's bedroom, Rico meowed his displeasure at being excluded.
Sean opened the door and lowered his voice as the cat trotted inside. “Fine. You can join us now. Just don’t take my spot.”
Rico flicked his tail and leaped onto the bed as he owned it. Sean made his way in after Rico, each step measured. The sight of Grace curled beneath the blankets, her hair spread across his pillow and her face soft with sleep, pushed the day’s chaos to the edges of his mind.
For now, that was enough.
George gripped the steering wheel of his aunt’s old car and drove past the address he’d dug up for Special Agent Sean Malone, his jaw aching from how hard he was clenching it. The stale scent of old cigarette smoke clung to the upholstery, mixing with the sharp pine smell of the air freshener his aunt had hung from the rearview mirror. It turned his stomach.
Grabbing it, he yanked it until its thin twine snapped, then threw it out the window.
He’d switched vehicles after the incident and tucked his own car out of sight behind the detached garage at home. The damage to the front end would have to wait. Getting it repaired too soon would raise questions he didn’t need anyone asking.
Three days.
Three whole days since he’d plowed into the federal agent, and Malone still hadn’t shown his face at the beach house.
George’s fingers tapped against the wheel as he slowed to pass the place again, his gaze sweeping over the quiet property. He’d expected the man to crawl back there after the hospital, bruised and vulnerable, easy to watch and easier to finish off. Instead, the house had remained dark and empty.
The night of the attack and the following morning, another man had come and gone with a pregnant woman. Family, most likely. Malone’s type always had people hovering around, fussing over every scrape as if he were someone worth protecting.
Since then, nothing. The curtains hadn’t moved. No lights had flickered on after sunset. No car had pulled into the drive.
As far as George could tell, Malone was staying somewhere else—probably with the blonde.
The thought sent a fresh wave of irritation through him. George could still picture her. Pretty. Soft. The kind of woman who probably believed a man like Sean Malone could protect her.
She would soon learn otherwise.
He drove another quarter mile before jerking the wheel into a hard U-turn, tires crunching over loose gravel at the edge of the pavement. His mind sifted through possibilities.
