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“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I don’t want you to get hurt. I will confront them, but not yet. I need to figure out how in a way that will keep Jefferson out of it. So, yes, I will throw the party because it will raise questions if I cancel it without a reason. Invitations have already gone out. Everything is paid for. The date is only a few days away...” I suck in a breath and release it slowly, but the rock on my chest stays firmly lodged. “I have to do this my way. So I’m asking you ... both of you,” I turn my head to Lachlan staring hard at the road ahead, “to please just keep this to yourselves until I talk to Lauren and Bron. I know it’s asking a lot, but it’s the last thing I ask of you.”

Lachlan’s chest rises with his deep inhale. It flares his nostrils and tightens his grip on the wheel. His jaw muscles grind like he’s chewing steel before he gives a slow rock of his head.

“If that’s how you want to do it, I won’t say anything.”

Part of that weight shifts on my lungs before I turn to Van.

“Please, Van?”

His scowl could curdle milk. There is nothing calm or understanding in the storm behind his eyes. The sheer outrage alone at my request is a tight line twisting his lips down at the corners.

“That is not fair to you,” he says at long last. “You should not have to coddle everyone’s feelings. Fuck Jefferson. So, they’lltalk. They’ll get over it. I don’t give a shit what anyone says about me.”

“But your job—”

“I can get another damn job even if I have to drive to Mayfield. People need electricians, Everly. I’m not worried about it.”

He is not making this easy, and while I deeply love his resistance, his sense of justice he’s still not understanding the magnitude of this situation.

“What about Lauren?” I attempt, trying to expand the casualties. “I’m furious over what she did, but this would ruin her life.”

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” he spits out. “I love my daughter, but I did not raise her to be this person. She’s a grown ass woman who will eventually have to face the consequences of her actions.”

Without giving myself the chance to consider my own actions, I reach over and catch his hand. The bunched fist is warm and massive in my tiny grip, but I hold it until the long fingers unfurl and capture mine.

“I’m not saying I’m never going to talk to her about it, but I just need to process and get through the week. Everything is already done for the party. It would be a waste if—”

“I’m not saying I’ll say something. I’msaying I don’t like it.”

I exhale softly and offer him a tiny smile. “I don’t either.” I glance between the two. “But thank you both for supporting me on this. You’ve already done so much.”

I become aware of the fact that Van is still gripping my hand when he skims the knuckles. A barely there touch. A whisper of secrets across my skin. Each swirl lands like thunder in my chest until it’s ricocheting through my bones.

He doesn’t let go and I don’t pull away.

I do nothing but watch him as he drags his thumb along the delicate line of mine, slips under and props it up to get in between our palms. The callused skin sweeps my heel.

He’s so gentle for a man who looks like he could crush boulders with his hands. So loving the way he traces the bones beneath my skin like he’s memorizing me by feel alone.

When I dare to steal a glance at him, his eyes are already on my face. Already moving over the hills and contours, searching and assessing. Categorizing every flicker of emotion I let slip. But his eyes equally betray him.

They burn with a want and resistance I feel to my core.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

The words are so simple and quiet and still wield the power to cut me.

His thumb circles again, slowing with each pass over my pulse like he’s waiting to see when I’ll finally stop him.

I don’t.

Lachlan breaks the silence. “What’s at the storage?”

Sucking in a breath, I break the spell Van has on me to turn to the other man. “Decorations. Furniture. Stuff my mom didn’t want at the house, but my dad couldn’t throw away.” I chuckle softly. “Mostly a lot of garbage, but I can’t bring myself to go through and clean it out.”

Van’s grip flexes around mine. His thumb dusts over my knuckles.

“For the party?” Lachlan asks.