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He smiles at my shocked expression, once again warns me about a pancake shortage before leaving me shell-shocked and silent in my room.

21

BRODIE

When the creak of the kitchen door opening sounds through my ears, I completely drown out the story Thane is sharing and shift my eyes toward the noise. I take my time drinking in Henley’s svelte frame and gorgeous face before looking past her.

I sigh in relief when I fail to spot the suitcase that had me on the back foot only an hour ago. It’s hopefully still above the closet, where I plan for it to stay until long after I work out why Henley is as protective of Lucy as I am becoming of her.

Last night scared the shit out of me.

I just haven’t had the chance to decipher why.

Things never moved this fast with Caroline. We courted for months before making it official, and we’d been together for over three years before she considered sharing a residence.

I’ve barely known Henley for a week and I’m already struggling to remember what our life was like before she arrived.

That is insane just to contemplate, but it is honest.

“Henley!” Lucy waves her over to the island we’re using as a table. “I saved you a seat.”

Of course, the seat she saved is wedged between Lucy and me. Thane lucked out and got the stool on the other side of the counter. He doesn’t seem upset, though. He gets to take in Henley without any of the sneaky sideway glances I hit her with during the thirty minutes of breakfast.

Neither of us gets a word in. It is the Lucy and Thane Show the entire time, but once the food is demolished and there’s nothing but dishes to clean, the kitchen is devoid of another word, and Thane and Lucy are out back playing a ball game.

Mercifully, Henley gives in to the tension first. “Last night—”

“If you’re okay, it doesn’t deserve mentioning.”

She smiles before placing Thane’s mug into the dishwasher. “I’m fine. A little embarrassed, but I doubt that requires a visit to the ER.” After stacking another handful of dishes, she asks, “Did I…?” She waves her hand at my torso. “Did I spew on you?” Her face screws up when I don’t immediately answer her. “At least tell me it wasn’t on your good shirt.” She balances her elbows on the counter and hides her face in her hands when I remain quiet. I’ve worn nothing but the shirts she and Lucy made the first three days of her placement. They’re comfortable, but knowing that they made them for me would have me wearing them even if they weren’t. “This is worse than I realized.”

She cranks her neck and glares at me when I quote, “If it makes you feel any better, it isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.” Uncharacteristically, I bring Caroline into our conversation. “Caroline was so sick the first few months of her pregnancy, even our dog heaved when he entered our bedroom.”

I can see a hundred questions in her eyes, but Henley keeps to the easy stuff. “You had a dog?”

“Yeah.” I smile while remembering his lopsided head and just as crooked smile. “Rex had air for brains, but he was a good dog. Fiercely protective of Caroline and Lucy.”

My smile slips when she asks, “Where is Rex now?”

I could end our conversation, but how can I get my questions answered if I’m unwilling to answer any myself? “He’s in the same spot as Caroline.”

“Oh.” Her shock is swift, but she holds it well. “I’m sorry.”

I take a sip of my coffee to hide the quiver of my lips. “What have you got to be sorry about?”

She isn’t given a chance to answer. Lucy sprints into the house from the backyard, uncaring that her boots are covered with mud. It stormed last night, which had me hopeful some of the evidence of my assault had washed away, but alas, I’ve never been lucky.

“You need to come outside. Uncle Thane found a frog.”

“A frog?” Henley checks, her eyes popping.

“Uh-huh. It is big and slimy and so very beautiful!” Lucy locks her eyes with mine. “Can we keep it?” After slipping her hand into mine, she curls her other one around Henley’s hand, making me realize how close we were standing while discussing a subject that usually demands a heap of space. “Uncle Thane could make it a house, and I could splat flies for it.”

“But frogs like sleeping outside,” Henley starts, saving me from breaking my daughter’s heart for the second time today.

I slant my head to hide my smile when Henley enters the living room with a groan. Not only did Lucy win her debate about keeping a frog inside, citing that lots of people have amphibians as pets, but our first self-defense class ran over by two hours.

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