Page 41 of Tripped By Love

Marco

SHADE

“I stand out like neon on the darkest night

Everything looks clearer lookin’ in your eyes.”

Performed by Maren Morris

Written by Morris / Hemby / Johnson

I rounded the corner of ourstreet, sweaty and ready to hit the showers after the long run I’d taken with Jonas before joining Cassidy for her workout. Jonas and I had wound our way through downtown so I could point out the basics of the place: Cassidy’s restaurant, Brady’s studio, and the other shops that made up the quaint Main Street that drew tourists from around the globe, especially during apple season. We’d gone past the charming old stores and reached the more modern strip malls on the other side of town when Jonas finally called, “Give.” I’d laughed and teased him but let him head back on his own, knowing what he really needed was time to absorb being miles away from where he thought he wanted to be. I gave him space and continued on for another half a mile before turning back.

I was surprised to see his tall frame on the steps of Cassidy’s place when I turned onto the block, and my feet headed in that direction. I saw him mount the steps, and I heard him threaten someone, which raised the hackles on my neck.

It wasn’t until I was closer that I saw the slimy face of Clayton Hardy as he stepped toward my brother. Clayton laughed darkly. “Cocky one, I see. You have me quivering in my boots.”

“If you’re not afraid of him, maybe you should be of me,” I growled, taking the steps in a single bound so that I stood next to Jonas.

I had to give the man some credit. He didn’t cower away. In fact, his eyes flashed angrily. The three of us standing off like some ridiculous television drama.

“Mama, wet,” Chevelle’s little voice broke through the tension. All our eyes went to the screen door where Chevelle stood with his stuffed dog, Hippo, in his hands. The animal was dripping onto the floor, and if the situation hadn’t been full of tension, I would have laughed because I had a pretty good idea where he’d dropped Hippo. Instead, I continued to give Clayton my “fuck off” face.

Cassidy exchanged a glance with me, fear and frustration and fury floating through her, and then she turned to her son. “Did Hippo decide to use the potty again?”

She eased open the screen door and picked up Chevelle, wet animal and all. She didn’t give any of us behemoths on the porch a second look.

“I’m not done here, Cassidy,” Clayton said, and then he stormed past me, pushing my arm as he went by as if he could provoke me into striking him first. He’d love that—the angry boyfriend who was a physical menace to his child.

I watched him as he stalked over to a very expensive Jaguar—one I was surprised he could afford on a professor’s salary. It raised more alarms. I really needed to dig into him more than I’d dug into Lance Ralley. If I hadn’t had to fly to Austin, it would have been done already.

I looked to Jonas and clasped his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“What is it with douchebags who think they have a right to tell women what to do?” he growled, and I couldn’t have been prouder of him.

I opened the screen door, following the sound of Cassidy’s voice to the laundry room off the kitchen. I was surprised when Jonas trailed after me, eyeing the very feminine house with curious eyes.

Chevelle was sitting on top of the dryer while Cassidy put Hippo into the washing machine with a load of towels. “He’ll be okay. He’s just going to take a bath. Remember last time. He came out of the dryer smelling brand new.”

Chevelle looked like he might cry, and it tore a little at my soul to see him so sad. I reached around Cassidy and picked him up. “How about you show me where your Mama keeps those apple snacks while she takes care of Hippo?”

His eyes were huge as they watched Cassidy over my shoulder, but soon the cabinets blocked his view, and he turned back to me. He put his chubby little hands on my face. “Maco.”

The kid made my heart about burst. His little hands on my cheeks and the way he couldn’t say the R in my name was enough to almost kill anyone with cuteness.

“Yep, buddy?” My voice was deep with the feelings I had for him.

“Who dat?” he asked, eyes drifting to where Jonas stood in the kitchen’s archway.

“That’s Jo-Jo. He’s my brother.”

Jonas rolled his eyes. “Great, let’s have the kid learn a ridiculous nickname, why don’t we.”

I grinned.

Jonas closed the distance, holding out a hand. “I’m Jonas, not Jo-Jo. And who are you?”

I wanted to laugh because it was obvious that Jonas hadn’t been around little kids much more than I’d been before Chevelle had entered my world.