Page 237 of Midnight Curfew

Callum has proxy over everything that Garrett can’t control from the inside, which is almost everything.

Some kids breeze past on their bicycles, Paisleigh throwing water balloons at them. It’s crazy how St. Carmen thought we’d infiltrate their community when their kids keep moving here instead. Anna-Katherine has her own room upstairs now, and if it were up to her, the three of us would live here full-time. I thought she might be more wary around so many men, but they all see her as another sister.

Trace comes down the steps and into the garage, tossing Army, Iron, and me a beer before cracking his open.

“School year starts this week?” Macon continues.

Liv, Clay, and Krisjen are missing from the family meeting, so hopefully this means it’ll be short.

“I’m ready,” I assure him, popping my top. “My classes are full, administration is happy.” I smooth down my tie as it blows in the wind, pre–school year meetings this morning demanding more than jeans and T-shirts. “I’m organizing a field trip to an archeological park and a service project on a trawler.”

“Is the Ministry happy with your performance?” Army asks.

“Are you kidding?” I tease. “He evaluates my performance daily.”

Trace snorts, Iron dribbling some of his beer as he chokes on a laugh.

But Macon barks, “All right, knock it off.”

I stifle my smile, content that at least I have job security, especially after how good my man got it last night.

The only problem now is trying to hide it in a Catholic school when I can’t stop fucking looking at him whenever he’s close.

I go on, running down my status report. “Callum is setting up an office in Dillinger Square. He’ll continue managing his investments and now his father’s holdings.”

He nods, tightening a bolt. “Krisjen and the city council are reviewing plans for Marymount’s expansion.”

“She better get them on board,” I tell him, “because—”

“She’ll take care of it.”

I close my mouth, knowing he doesn’t want to hear anyone doubt his wife’s abilities. She’s good with people, but she’s pregnant, and she might be off her game. I don’t know…

“Pub’s going into deep cleaning to be ready for snowbird season,” Trace reports. “Shipment coming in tomorrow.”

“We will look the other way,” Army murmurs, his voice teasing.

Macon lifts his eyes to him, though, a look passing between them, and I’m almost relieved, because it isn’t directed at me. If Macon looks at you for longer than a second—and he’s not speaking—that means he’s thinking about you.

He doesn’t think about you when he’s happy with you.

Army’s been off for a long time, his mood shifting since he became a cop. We’ve all noticed it, and I am happy to sink into the background with Callum now and enjoy my life a little and let someone else be the focus of the family.

“Is the drive-in ready?” Trace asks us.

“It’s looking good.” Iron nods. “Liv is talking with distributors. We thought it might be fun to do some classic movie nights. ‘Parents wanting to let their kids experience their favorite films in a theater like they did’ type thing.”

“Whatever.” Macon rises up and changes out tools. “I’ll get involved if it’s not working.”

I think he likes that we’re taking the reins more.

So do we.

“Dex has his school clothes?” he asks Army.

“Let me handle my son,” Army says. “He’s not for you to manage like you do us. Tend to your own.”

“You’re not going to let me practice?” Macon taunts, smiling a little.