When We Touch

Jackson’s hand covers my shoulder. “She wouldn’t do that. Would you, Marjorie?”

Fury blazes in her eyes, but mine are equally hot. “It’s advice.”

“Take Coco in the house,” I say quietly.

He hesitates, and it’s the first time my eyes leave my mother’s. They meet his, and his brows quirk. Still, he does as I ask. The door closes, and for a moment we observe each other in silence.

My mother speaks first. “When you needed me, I was there for you. I raised that child the right way, and I’m not letting you take her from the path.”

“You lied to me. Now that I know the truth, I’m not letting you do any more damage.”

Her hand goes to her hip. “The Lord brought her into my life, it’s my responsibility to protect her.”

It’s an old argument I know I’ll never win, so I don’t even try. “You said you gave me a bit of advice earlier? Well, I have some advice for you: butt out. I’m not Pastor Green. Your dictations aren’t welcome here.”

Her back stiffens and she turns to go. “This matter isn’t over.”

I don’t respond. She’s said those words to me before, and they’ve meant nothing. This time, I’m a bit more concerned about her level of commitment.

I stand firm, not backing down until I know she’s gone.

Nineteen

Jack

I’m on the other side of the door, holding the handle in case I need to go out there again. Once we’re inside, Coco wiggles out of my arms and runs to the table where her breakfast waits.

Naming her Princess of Atlantia won me major brownie points with the sassy preschooler. That, or it won me the title of Royal Packhorse, or bodyguard.

Two positions I’m more than happy to fill.

Outside, neither Ember nor her mother’s voice is raised, but I can hear the tension through the door. I saw it in their eyes, and it radiates off Ember’s body. I know their history is rocky, and I know Ember wants me to let her handle it.

Still, Marjorie Warren has already gone to great lengths to keep us apart, and I won’t let her get away with it again. I won’t let her get away with threatening my girl. I am still a lawyer, and I can stop her.

Finally, I see her mother leaving. Ember waits a few seconds longer before slowly reentering the cottage. She looks wounded, and I hate she’s dealing with this—especially in view of what I have to do.

Going to her, I put my hands on her waist. “You okay?”

She shrugs. “I don’t like fighting with her. But it’s the only thing she understands.”

“Control is the only thing she understands,” I say. “Anything out of her control is a threat.” Dark eyes blink up to mine, and I place my palm against her cheek. “You’re safe with me.”

She smiles, and I lean forward to kiss the tip of her nose. Her hands are around my waist, and she’s looking at me with that expression she used to have. Like I was the most important guy in the world. It gives me so much confidence.

“What shall we do today?”

I glance over to the clock then down to the table where our breakfast sits. “Let’s finish up here then head to the beach. We can spend the afternoon at our place.”

* * *

“Your truck is loud!” Coco shouts, sitting between us in her seatbelt on a mermaid booster chair, also courtesy of Thelma.

Her hands are clasped over her ears. The windows are down, and my arm is propped on the door as I drive. Emberly looks out the open passenger’s window, catching her long dark spirals as they wind around her neck and face.

“It’s an old truck, but it’s good for hauling,” I explain.

“What’s hauling?” Coco frowns up at me.