More of You (Confessions of the Heart 1)

Hooked up with him?

I hated not knowing, but I was pretty damned sure I couldn’t handle knowing, either.

Ian huffed a frustrated sound. “You’re an idiot, brother. You want to be miserable your whole goddamned life?”

Pointedly, I glanced up at him. “Guess I’d be in good company, wouldn’t I?”

“Fuck you, man. I’m as happy as can be.” He lifted his arms out to his sides, gesturing around him, like his expensive suit and expensive furnishings in his corner office was the giver of joy.

I knew better.

Firsthand.

But money sure as hell made things easier, and I’d gladly give up every dime of mine to make up for what I’d done. Make her life easier, too.

“Think Faith has had enough of being yanked around, yeah?” Mack almost challenged, glaring between the two of us. “Why don’t we focus on whoever this fucker is rather than quibbling over who deserves what, because I’m pretty sure what both of you deserve is to get your asses handed to you.”

I sighed and then chuckled. “Why don’t you tell us how you feel, man?”

He nearly rolled his eyes. “Want me to profess my love to the two of you? Keep dreamin’.”

“Oh, come on, Mack, know you’ve been dreaming of me,” Ian baited.

“Dreaming of squeezing the life out of you.”

“Ouch.” Ian threw his hand over his heart, so overdramatic that this time I was the one rolling my eyes. “You wound me, Mack. Wound me.”

“Keep it up, and I will,” Mack razzed.

I blew out a sigh, needing to get back on course, and I gestured to the reports Mack had brought with him. “Did you guys find anything?”

Mack rubbed a hand over the flop of hair on top of his head. “Nothing inside. Nothing out of place other than the tub. No fingerprints. Just one goddamned footprint out front. Size eleven and a half. Boot that could belong to a thousand people.”

Fear clamped down on my chest.

Heavy and hard.

Fury building into its own beat. Something that felt outside my heart. Bigger than me.

“Seems to me, we hunt down every asshole within a hundred-mile radius who wears a size eleven and a half.”

“Ah . . . guess that clears my name. Size thirteen, bitches.” Ian smirked, the smug bastard.

I cut him a glare.

Mack clapped me on the knee. “You aren’t going to do anything except fix that porch and call me if you see anything out of the ordinary.”

Mack pushed to his towering, hulking height. “Keep on the straight and narrow. Think you know well enough that you can’t afford to find yourself handcuffed in the back of a cruiser again. We clear?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He just rapped a fist on the wall as he strode out the door.

Nine

Jace

A rush of anxiousness rolled down my spine as I knocked on the front door, trying to keep my cool.

Wasn’t like I hadn’t spent the entire night staking out the front of her house. She’d been tucked safely inside, behind closed doors, which had made it a whole ton of a lot easier to focus on why I was there.

All those reasons scattered in the wind when the front door whipped open.

It took everything I had not to stumble back. I should have been prepared. It wasn’t like it was the first time I’d seen her since I’d gotten back. But every single time, it nearly knocked me from my feet.

My attention darted down to her bare legs. My heart slammed against my ribs. Faith was wearing nothing but a flimsy pair of tiny pajama bottoms and a white tank top.

Then my heart froze when my attention landed on the little girl who peeked out from between her mother’s long, slender legs. She stood behind Faith, holding the outside of her mom’s legs and was peering at me as if through the bars on a cage.

Faith this fortress in front of her.

Protective and perfect.

My insides tangled.

Yeah. That little thing was going to be a problem. It wasn’t like I hadn’t known they’d had a kid. But, fuck, seeing it was a whole different ball game.

Like that impossible piece of hope inside me had been written on a scrap of paper. Kept hidden away. And was then ripped up and torn to shreds.

I pinned a smile onto my face, hoping it didn’t come off as too fake, and lifted the two one-gallon paint cans up at my sides. “Stain or white?”

Not that I needed the answer yet.

I just needed a reason to talk to her.

See her face.

Honestly, I was weeks away from being ready to paint anything.

Yesterday, I’d managed to get a few solid planks secured between the front door and steps.

They’d have to be fully ripped out and replaced when I got to this section, but for the time being, someone could leave the house without the worry of falling and breaking their neck.