Mack grunts. “What are you doing?”
“Assuring my overprotective sisters that I’m okay.”
Poppy: Found a friend! Thanks for being here when I needed you. Love you both.
I stow my phone back in my bag and turn my full attention to Mack.
“Are you not okay?” he says.
I shrug.
He turns and follows my gaze.
A woman I don’t recognize has her manicured hand on Holland’s bulging bicep. She’s leaning in and giggling, and he’s eating up the attention. I wait for a pang of jealousy or anything to rise up in my chest, but I’ve got nothing.
Nothing except that sick feeling in my stomach that I upended my whole life for a guy who isn’t for me.
I glance over at Mack, and I can see him grinding that perfectly notched jaw of his, offended on my behalf. The last thing I want to do is cause any beef between the two Bradley brothers. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I can handle myself.”
My phone vibrates from inside my purse, but I ignore it because, at that same moment, Mack turns his gaze on me, and his eyes are twinkling like he’s Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.
“So you’ve said.” He holds out his hand to me, palm up. “But do you grant me permission to protect you tonight?”
I laugh, recalling our conversation at the beach. I’m already reaching for his hand even as I push back a little. “Protect me? From what? I don’t see any rogue waves or carnivorous fish.”
He hauls me to my feet. “True. But see that guy over there.”
I glance to where Mack tossed his chin, and my eyes land on a beefy gentleman with a full mop of curly brown hair.
“That’s Cousin Albert. He tends to zone in on unsuspecting wedding guests—male, female, canine…it makes no difference to him. If you aren’t matched up and happen to be looking lonely when he makes eye contact, he’ll drag you out on the dance floor. He means well, but you won’t get out of his sweaty grip for the rest of the night. I don’t know what type of voodoo he uses, but I’ve seen him lure many a soul into his Macarena-dancing clutches at family weddings over the years.”
I stare at Mack, registering that my mouth is hanging slightly open but not caring. “Are you pulling my leg?”
“I’m not. But Cousin Albert might try to if you’re not careful.”
I snort, and Albert looks my way. He gives a finger wave, and I suck in a breath.
“So, Princess Boo. Since my baby brother is falling down on the job, I’m asking if I have permission to protect you from our over-eager cousin Albert tonight?” He twirls me around and pulls me back into him.
My hand lands against his chest. It’s warm and firm, and when I look up into his eyes, he offers me one of his rare smiles. It transforms his face from stony to soft. I like this version of Mack Bradley. I don’t think he shows it to too many people, and knowing that I’m one of the lucky ones he’s comfortable enough to let his guard down around makes my insides feel settled for the first time all night.
“Lead on, Big Mack.”
16
Guilty
Mack
I’mholdingPoppyinmy arms, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come back from this. The damage is fully done.
She’s prattling on and on about this true-crime podcast that she finished binging. I keep catching bits and pieces, but mostly I’m lost in my own thoughts. About her. About how I shouldn’t want her.
But I do.
“…I don’t believe he did it. I mean, I couldn’t believe the way things were covered up. I also don’t think I’ll sleep ever again, but that comes with the territory.” She flashes me a wry grin, and her eyes sparkle in the dim light of the granary.
And here’s something funny. I thought I had a good grasp on the color blue before—you know, living a stone’s throw away from the cove, with the Cashmere County sky overhead—but I feel like I never knew blue until I looked into her eyes. The color comes to life in Poppy’s glittery gaze—all multi-dimensional and kaleidoscopic.
