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Jack wasn’t getting the message.
Oh well. Marc would hang around until they both took off.
She hoped.
“Before you two leave me to my shower, give me a quick update. What happened with Alison?” Bri pushed herself to her feet, suppressing a grimace.
“Gunshot wound to the shoulder. She was armed when they intercepted her on the path.”
“So she did come after me.” A shiver rippled through her.
“Yes, but she’s behind bars now.” Jack’s expression was grim. “And I doubt she’ll ever get out.”
“Come on, Jack.” Cara nudged him. “Let’s give Bri space to clean up and get dressed.”
They left, closing the door behind them, and Bri didn’t dawdle. Not with Marc waiting for her two rooms away.
Unfortunately, the shower took longer than she expected. Who knew water spray glancing off a cheek could be so painful? Nor did her face like the hot air from the blow dryer. As for the bruises, swollen eye, and puffy nose—makeup couldn’t cover everything, and most of the area was too tender to allowfor a heavy application anyway. What she managed to put on wasn’t nearly enough, but it would have to do.
Smoothing a hand down her leggings, Bri took a deep breath and limped down the hall.
She found her three guests waiting in the kitchen.
Jack was chowing down on a piece of coffeecake and Cara was helping herself to a coffee refill, but the man she zeroed in on vaulted to his feet and gave her his full and undivided attention. As if nothing else in the world mattered.
Whew.
A look like that could turn a girl’s head and steal her heart.
“Good morning.” She squeaked out the greeting.
“How are you feeling?” His question came out husky.
At least she wasn’t the only one affected by the electricity arcing between them.
Nor had Jack been exaggerating about Marc’s worry. If the shadows beneath his lower lashes and the parallel creases embedded on his forehead were any indication, he hadn’t clocked more than an hour or two of shut-eye last night.
“I’m holding my own. Give me a day or two, and I’ll be back in fighting form.”
“Let’s hope there are no more fights in your future.”
And there wouldn’t be, if he had anything to say about it. He may not have verbalized that, but the message was written in his eyes. If there was any way he could protect her from future trauma, he would.
The warmth in Bri’s heart spilled over.
Cara took a sip of her coffee, watching the two of them over the rim of her mug. “What do you say we all have one of these sweet treats Marc brought? I do have a class to teach this afternoon, and I know Jack has places to be—or a few z’s to catch up on after racking out on your sofa last night.”
“I’m not in any hurry.” Their brother reached for a Danish.
“Yes, you are.” Cara elbowed him.
He shot her a scowl but remained silent.
“Why don’t you sit here, Bri?” Marc picked up a mug of coffee from the counter, set it on the table for her, and pulled out a chair.
She moved to it and lowered herself onto the seat. He took the adjacent chair and twined his fingers with hers.
It seemed he wanted to send a clear message about his intentions to her siblings.
