Mastered by Malone (Haven, Texas 6)

Oh, God. He would have to bring that up.

“I was dusting it. It was an accident. I’ll pay to replace it.”

“Its value was in its sentiment,” he replied, making her feel even worse. “Of course, it also had a monetary value of around two thousand dollars.”

Two thousand dollars! No way could she find that kind of cash. “For that ugly old thing?”

Whoops. He stiffened behind her.

“Um, sorry. Really, I am. I know it was your grandmother’s and I feel terrible about what happened. I didn’t mean to knock it over.”

“Just like you didn’t mean to flood the laundry room?” he asked in a low voice.

“I didn’t realize the plug was in the tub. I cleaned it all up.”

“The floors need replacing.”

“I’ll pay for that too.” Shit. Shit.

“Bill’s mounting up.”

Didn’t she know it.

“Then there’s West’s bruised ass.”

She tried to turn again. He held her still.

“I apologized to West. I didn’t mean to flood the laundry and I thought I’d cleaned up the water well enough. I didn’t think it would still be so slippery.” The quietest Malone brother had slipped on a wet patch of tile in the mudroom, which doubled as the laundry room. He’d fumed all day yesterday. And the scowl he wore whenever he saw her . . . she shivered slightly.

“Do you think he’s still mad at me?” she whispered.

He narrowed his gaze at her. “You have nothing to fear from West.”

“I’m not scared of him.” Liar. Liar.

“Lying isn’t allowed.”

“Just how many rules are you going to make?” she demanded, fed up with him and his high-handed ways.

“Many as you need.”

“As I need? All right, I’ll make it easy on you. I’m a grown woman. I’m reasonably intelligent. And I don’t need any rules.”

He just huffed out a laugh. “You forgot that you have a good sense of humor.”

“I wasn’t joking,” she said through gritted teeth. Although it was nice that he thought she had a sense of humor.

“Whose house you living in?”

She figured that was a rhetorical question and didn’t answer. Her hand was about to freeze off, and she reached for the tap to turn off the water.

“Don’t even think about touching that,” he told her in a low, commanding voice.

She froze. Fuck. She hated when she did that. Just obeyed him like some mindless fool.

“Whose house are you living in?” He repeated the question. Okay, maybe he wanted an answer.

“Yours,” she spat out.