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Michael smiled. His brothers could be charming when they wanted to be. “The guys said she bakes them cookies every day.”
“Just about.”
“That’s good. They could use some mothering.”
She didn’t answer, and he lost the smile. They fell into silence again.
He peeked over at her. The sunlight was bright on her hair, and the chill in the air had thrown pink on her cheeks. She rubbed at her arms, and he realized he’d been an idiot.
“Here,” he said, shrugging out of his coat. “It’s cold with the wind.”
She straightened in surprise when he dropped it around her shoulders, and he thought she might refuse. But then she grabbed the lapels and pulled it closer.
Her eyes flicked up at him. “Too bad we don’t have Nick to make it stop, right?”
That felt a little too pointed. Michael frowned.
She looked up at him. “What’s with the look?”
“I wish I’d told you,” he said. “If I could go back and do it over, I would.”
She didn’t say anything to that.
She kept walking, though, so he kept pace with her.
“That night you came to Tyler’s,” he said, “when you implied that I didn’t think you could take care of yourself . . . that’s not what I think, Hannah.” He paused. “That’s not what I think at all.”
o;I didn’t agree yet,” said Michael. “I want to know where you plan to take them, first.”
“That’s easy,” said Marshal Faulkner. “I plan to take them to my house.”
CHAPTER 32
Hannah arrived home to find her mother carrying a stack of pillows and blankets into the basement.
She stopped short in the foyer. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Shh.” Her mother tilted her head at the kitchen. “Talk to your father.”
Like that’s what she wanted to do after the night she’d had. Hannah considered springing up the steps and locking herself in her bedroom, but she kept hearing Irish’s words. You are an adult. It’s okay to act like it.
Her father appeared in the kitchen doorway before she could decide what to do. The early morning sunlight filtering through the window was still weak, so she couldn’t make out his expression, but it sure didn’t feature a big ol’ jolly smile.
“Where’ve you been?” he said.
She wanted to snap at him, because it wasn’t any of his business, but maybe she could start working on that whole communication thing.
“Went for coffee with Irish.” She hesitated, thinking of all she’d learned, about Elementals and Guides and all the reasons Michael had hidden the truth from her. “I needed to unwind.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said,” he began.
“Oh yeah?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He paused. “Do you want to come sit in the kitchen so we can talk?”
She opened her mouth to say not really, but now her father’s words were an echo in her head.
You’re impossible to talk to.
