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“You are. I’ve never seen you be mean to anyone, Jace, but you’re mean to my sister. She lost her husband a few months ago. It would do you good to remember that. You could be kind, you know.”
Blythe wiggled herself free of him. “Go apologize.”
The last thing he wanted to do was apologize to Blythe’s bitch of a sister, but he supposed he had to.
Blythe shoved him. “Go.”
He looked around the house, but didn’t see her. Just when he was about to go back and tell Blythe he couldn’t find her, he saw her huddled on a bench on the back deck. Her head was down, but he could tell by the way her body shook, she was crying.
He opened the sliding door and crept out. “I’m sorry.”
“Go away, Jace.”
“Can’t do that. I made you cry, and I didn’t mean to. So, I’m here to apologize.”
“You didn’t make me cry. Don’t give yourself that much credit.”
If it were up to him, he’d go back in the house, but if he did, Blythe would be mad at him.
“Come on, now,” he knelt down in front of her, put his hands on her arms, and pulled them away from her body. He kept pulling until her head rested on his shoulder. She didn’t wrap her arms around him, but she didn’t move away from him either.
“What’s going on out there?” Lyric asked Blythe.
“I’m not sure. Something Jace said made Bree cry, so I told him to apologize.”
“I’ve been watching them for full-on five minutes, and she hasn’t stopped crying. Jeez, what did he say?”
“I don’t know. She started to cry and ran out of the room. Were they arguing before he came inside?”
“Yeah, but only about where you were going to live. She was harder on him than he was on her.”
“Shh,” he whispered, trying to match his breathing with hers. “What happened in there?”
“Leave me alone.” She pulled away and put her hands over her face.
Jace put his hands on her wrists. “Bree, you and I don’t get along—that’s no secret—but whatever I said, I’m sorry for. I sure didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It isn’t you.” She tried to jerk her hands away, but he wouldn’t let go.
“Then, tell me who it is.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“I’m makin’ it my business. Isn’t that what you always accuse me of, not listening to what anyone else wants? I want you to tell me what’s got you cryin’ so hard, and I’m not givin’ up until you tell me. I’m a stubborn SOB, and I’ll stay on my knees in front of you until you tell me. I don’t care how long it takes.”
He moved her her wrists so he could grip both with one hand. He put his other palm on the side of her face and gently turned her head so she faced him. “Come on, tell me, so I don’t do it again.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with you. I already told you that. You don’t listen.”
“Somethin’ I said set you off, so let’s get this out in the open. I’m giving you free rein here, darlin’. You’ve never held back on tellin’ what you think before. Have at it. I’m wide open. Give it your best shot.”
That made her smile. At least he was getting somewhere. “Bree,” he looked in her eyes while his finger stroked her cheek. “Tell me.”
When tears slid down her face, he let go of her wrists and pulled her into him.
“We had a fight,” she said into his shoulder.