The name Troy hit Seth like a punch to the chest.
The bar.
The scarred, tattooed stranger buying round after round.
Everything Seth had told him about Shylo.
The comments about women lying and playing games.
The way the guy quietly kept feeding Seth’s anger and hurt as alcohol flooded his system.
The black Dodge parked outside Bar None.
His stomach dropped. “Son of a bitch.”
Every conversation stopped, and heads turned toward him. He stared at Lane and then Shane. “I met him.”
In the family room, Shylo sat at one end of the sofa, her hands wrapped around a mug of chamomile tea Mya had insisted would help settle her nerves. It hadn't worked yet, but the warmth against her palms gave her something to focus on besides the nervous energy coursing through her.
Behind her, Arianna carefully separated another section of her hair.
“Hold still,” the young girl instructed. “I'm trying to make it pretty.”
Despite everything, Shylo couldn't help but smile. “Sorry.”
“You're fidgeting.”
“I know.”
Sassy lay stretched across the rug nearby, lifting her furry head every so often as though she'd heard something beyond the room. Mya disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with a small plate of oatmeal cookies, setting it on the coffee table.
“You need to eat something,” she said to Shylo.
“I don't think I could.”
“You don't have to eat all of them.” Mya smiled. “Just a few, so you can let me know if they’re good or not.”
The woman’s tone said she was confident they were delicious.
She let out a soft laugh. “I'll try.”
“I'll help,” Arianna said as she tied off another braid.
Warmth spread through Shylo's chest. If this was what it felt like to have nieces and nephews, she couldn't wait to know them better.
“Thanks.”
Footsteps sounded on the staircase and then down the hallway.
Paige came into the room carrying the baby monitor, which she set on the end table beside the armchair. She settled into the chair and smiled. “Ashley's finally asleep. How's the braiding coming?”
“Almost done,” Arianna announced proudly.
“I told her she could practice on me.” Shylo shrugged. “I figured hair grows back if something goes terribly wrong.”
“It looks good,” Paige assured her. “Besides, Ari's been braiding anybody who sits still long enough for years. You're in very capable hands.”
“Yep,” the girl said as her fingers continued weaving another section into the braid.
