Those statements didn’t seem to bring her any comfort. And why would they? Here he was, showing her just how impulsive he could be—how impulsive he’d always been.
“Dating a woman with… a history…”
“Ahistory? Is that what this is about? You think that because she has a kid, that I won’t be compatible with her?”
His mother folded her arms again, tilting her head to the side. “A child is a big responsibility.”
“Yeah, I know. This isn’t the first time I’ve watched him.”
The look she gave him—it was as if he’d spit in her face.
He groaned. “Come on, Mom. It’s not a big deal. I like her. Yes, she has a kid, but she’s the most responsible person?—”
“It’s not her that I’m worried about.”
Mack’s head reared back. He knew he was a disappointment to her—to both of his parents. But they’d never said it in quite so certain terms. She must have caught the look of pain on his face because she shut her eyes tight and sighed.
“I didn’t mean it how it sounded. We—your father and I—will support you in whatever decision you make. I just want to make sure you understand what you’re getting into. Raising a child is hard. Starting a family—it’shard. This isn’t just about you. You’re entering a life that has already been established. Idon’t…” She sighed again. “I don’t want to see any of you hurt. And that includes that little boy.”
Mack’s eyes shifted to Bridger, who was crouched down and looking at something in the dirt. He’d probably found a cool rock or a bug. A smile tugged at his lips. “I know, Mom. This is the real deal.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line then nodded. “I love you, son.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
He brushed past her, feeling a little unsettled. He hated how with just a few sentences, his mother could make him question his decisions. It wasn’t that he was worried about how he felt for Lacey. It was that he worried he wasn’t good enough for her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Lacey staredat the doorknob of her apartment. It was late. Mack had said he brought Bridger home at six for dinner and then put him to bed at eight. He was probably sitting on the couch inside waiting for her, and she’d have to have the conversation she wasn’t ready for.
Already, she could feel the emotion bubbling to the surface like molten lava. She didn’t know how she was going to be able to sit down next to him and not cry her eyes out.
Angela was still ignoring her. It didn’t matter how many messages or voicemails she sent to her sister’s phone, she hadn’t gotten anything back.
None of it was Mack’s fault. Maybe that was why she didn’t want to talk to him about it. She didn’t want him feeling guilty over the rift that had been torn between herself and Angela. She just wished she could go back in time and tell Angela the first night she’d stayed over.
Only, that wouldn’t have worked. At that point, Lacey had been in denial. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d liked Mack.
There was no avoiding him tonight, though. She’d dragged him into her life, and she owed him more than she was prepared to give.
Shoving her key into the knob, she cleared her head and told herself everything would be okay. She could allow Mack into her heart. She could trust him. No matter how hard she fought against it, she could give herself fully to him.
She pushed the door open, and sitting right there on the couch was the man she might actually love. He turned his head toward her, and that charming grin filled his face. He reached for the remote and flipped off the television before he got to his feet and beckoned to her.
Lacey shut the door and moved toward him as if her feet had a mind of their own. She chewed on her lower lip, and the second he pulled her into his arms, the tears fell. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He rubbed her back. “You don’t have to be sorry.”
“But I am.” She buried her face into his chest. “I’m sorry I pushed you away last night. You didn’t have to help me today, and you did?—”
Mack pulled back and pushed a tendril of her hair behind her ear. His eyes searched hers for a moment. Then he kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheek, and finally the edge of her mouth. “Eventually, you’re going to believe me. When I tell you that I care about you, I mean it.”
She searched for that amusement in his gaze. The side of him that flirted with her, teased her—it was gone. In its place was a man who meant every single word he said.
Lacey leaned into him, wrapping her arms tight around him. She felt the same way, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to voice it.
“Talk to me,” he murmured into her hair. “How are things with your sister?”
