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Glancing in Lacey’s direction, Mack noted that she’d shifted her blank stare to a curious look at her son. A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, but that was all she was willing to give.

Mack’s frown deepened. She needed to talk about what happened, that much was clear. She might need a shoulder to cry on or someone to vent to. Whatever happened today needed to get flushed from her system so she could stop hurting. It was already slightly past the boy’s bedtime, but Lacey had been willing to overlook that fact while they finished up their game. At this rate, the game would continue for at least another ten minutes.

But not if Mack sabotaged the whole thing.

He grinned, pulling an obviously precarious cube from the tower.

It wobbled somewhat before losing its balance and toppling over.

Bridger let out a whoop of excitement. “I won!” The smile chased away his frown, and he spun around to beam at his mother. “Did you see that? I beat Mack.”

She nodded, her eyes only briefly landing on Mack. Before she could remind her son it was time to get ready for bed, Mack ruffled the boy’s hair. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you into bed.I seem to recall I owe you a bedtime story.” He glanced at Lacey for a moment, expecting to see the usual appreciative smile she gave him when he took initiative like this, but instead, he found a hollowness in her expression.

Her brows were pulled together as she shifted into a state of deep thought. It was like she was trying to make sense of something difficult to understand.

It didn’t matter. He’d get to the bottom of what was happening soon enough. She would open up to him when she didn’t have to worry about Bridger overhearing them.

“Okay, spill.”

Lacey stiffened as Mack draped his arm around her shoulders.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, her voice strained.

He cocked his head and forced a chuckle, even though his heart raced with the concern he was feeling. “Oh? Tell that to your pensive expression.”

She moved to pull away from him, but his arm shot out around her waist to pull her back to his side.

“What happened today?” he murmured softly, his mouth close to her ear. “You were having a good day until…” He didn’t have to mention her family. They both knew what had caused her less than happy mood.

“Nothing,” she muttered.

He raised a brow. “Doesn’t sound like nothing. Did Angela do something?”

“What? No!” Lacey snapped, inching away from him so her side was no longer flushed with his. A sense of coldness filled the space where she’d been pressed against him, and all he wanted to do was pull her close once more.

His frown deepened. They’d come so far since he’d met her. He’d worked so hard to get her to open up to him. And all it took was one visit from her mother to shatter all his work. He heaved a sigh and leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. Hopefully she wouldn’t feel cornered if he wasn’t insisting she be so close. “How are we supposed to trust each other if you won’t open up to me?”

When she didn’t respond, he attempted a different tactic.

“My whole life, I’ve never had someone who was important enough to fight for. And when I met you…” Mack blew out a breath and smiled despite himself. “I knew that I’d be in for a wild ride. Then I met Bridger, and I felt…”

Complete.

But he couldn’t say that out loud—not with the state she was in. Mack got the feeling that she’d only bite his head off. He didn’t know what it was about her demeanor, but he knew he needed to ease into getting her to talk to him.

“I care about him, you know? He’s a great kid. And his mother is amazing.”

Lacey faced him. “If you cared about us, then why did you lie?” Her voice was cold and left no room to interpret what she’d asked as anything but an accusation.

Lie? He wracked his brain, but he couldn’t think of a single instance in his life when he might have lied to this woman. “What makes you think I’ve been dishonest with you?” he hedged.

Her cheeks flushed a bright red color, and she looked away.

“No. Don’t do that.” He took a breath forcing himself to stay calm. “I really want you to tell me what’s going on. No more games.”

She snorted. “Games? You want to talk about playing games? What about all those pickup lines you spit out? What about our relationship hasn’t been just about having fun?”

That hurt. The words sliced through him in a way he hadn’t expected. Did he like corny pickup lines? Sure. But nothing about this relationship had been a game. “You’re going to have to help me out a little here, baby. I don’t have the slightest clue how I’ve upset you.”