I watched him eating it and I felt his silver eyes on me but I didn’t lift my eyes to his because I was fascinated by the movements of his mouth. Therefore, during the show I lost all focus on Martha.

“Hello? Tess? It’s only my wedding we’re talking about,” she said in my ear. “Nothing important, like, your guys eating your cupcakes which they do every… freaking… day.”

“Sorry,” I said into the phone as I watched Brock grin, swallow his last bite and toss the used cupcake paper on the counter which made me roll my eyes. But I wouldn’t make a big deal out of that either. All my boys did this all the time too. I found them everywhere, the living room, TV room, bedrooms, even the bathroom. Living with three men, I picked my battles.

After he tossed his cupcake paper, I watched him head to the fridge where I knew he’d drink milk straight out of the carton. Luckily, he had his very own carton so when I needed a splash for my coffee, I didn’t have cupcake backwash in it.

“Okay, a buffet,” Martha said in my ear and I heard the fridge open at the same time I heard Brock’s cell ring.

“I think that’s a good call, honey,” I replied as I heard Brock answer his phone. “But with that amount of guests, we’ll need to make certain there are two, with two sides for the lines to go down or it’ll take a year for everyone to walk through the buffet.”

“Agreed but we’ll still need to do the taste testing,” she told me.

“Absolutely,” I replied, my lips curving.

Something to look forward to.

The fridge closed.

“I’ll schedule it. Let you know at the shop when we’re doing it,” she told me.

“Great.”

“Fuck, you shittin’ me?”

That was Brock and it was said in a tone that made my head whip toward him.

And he had a look on his face that made mine go pale. So pale, I felt it.

“Martha, I have to go,” I whispered into my phone as Brock’s eyes lifted from the floor and locked to mine.

I did not like what I saw.

Oh God.

“What?” Martha asked.

“I have to go, honey, now. I’ll call you later.”

“Is everything –?” she started but I cut her off by disconnecting.

Then I stared at Brock as he talked into his phone.

“Has the call gone to Lawson?” Brock asked, his eyes not leaving mine. “Kane Allen and the boys?” he went on. “What about Allen’s woman, Tyra?”

My body locked.

“Fuck, I’ll call Lawson and I’m comin’ in,” Brock kept talking. “Right, be there in ten.”

He disconnected.

“What?” I asked.

“Gotta go to the Station.”

“Is everything with Tyra okay?”

Brock held my eyes.

Then no games, no bullshit, straight out, he said softly, “No. Shit’s goin’ down, baby, it’s not good and she may be a target from two angles.”

“Those would be?”

“Connection to Chaos, who the Russian mob thinks f**ked them over, connection to some guy who just plain f**ked over the Russian mob.”

I closed my eyes but opened them when I felt his hand wrap around the back of my neck and his mouth touch mine.

He tasted of frosting.

This normally would make me feel better.

Right then, it didn’t make me feel better.

His head lifted. “Gotta go.”

I nodded.

“Love you, darlin’,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Brock,” I whispered back.

Brock went.

I lifted my phone and called Tyra.

There was no answer.

I disconnected and called her again.

* * * * *

Mara

At the same time, Mitch Lawson and Mara Hanover’s house, East Denver…

“Do I have to go?”

This was Bud, sitting on a stool outside the bar that fenced one side of the kitchen that was smack in the middle of our house and opened off into a huge, cathedral ceiling living room.

“Yes,” I replied.

“But I don’t wanna shop for school clothes,” he told me and I felt the side of Mitch’s front move in close to the side of the back of mine. So close, we brushed.

This, he did a lot.

This, I liked a lot.

“Don’t blame you,” Mitch muttered and my eyes jerked to him then narrowed.

Mitch grinned at me.

I glared.

“Seriously, sweetheart, you know his sizes. Can’t you and Billie just pick up some shit for him?” he asked.

“I can pick out clothes for Bud,” Billie, sitting beside Bud at the bar chimed in then finished, “Easy.”

“See, Billie can pick them out for me,” Bud unsurprisingly instantly agreed with Billie’s plan.

“Are you sure you want that?” I asked Bud and he shrugged.

I was visualizing Bud in t-shirts with butterflies on them when I heard Mitch mutter, “Decided,” and my eyes went back to him.

“It’s a family outing,” I announced and watched Mitch’s head jerk.

Then he declared, “I’m not going.”

“You are.”

“I am not.”

“If Mitch isn’t going, I’m not going either,” Bud stated.

“I’m going!” Billie cried excitedly.

That was my girl, all girl therefore always up for shopping.

“Bud and I’ll go out, hit a few balls,” Mitch said, “That cool with you, Bud?”

Like Bud would say no.

“Totally!” Bud cried.

See?

It was then I knew I’d lost both of them from the family outing I had planned but I hadn’t exactly communicated mostly because I knew this would be the outcome.

Mitch and Bud taking off with their baseball equipment wasn’t unusual. They went out nearly daily to hit a few balls and catch a few balls either at a park or a vacant diamond and Mitch also took him to batting cages. Bud had played Little League that year and you would never have guessed a little over a year ago he’d never thrown a ball in his life. Mitch said he was a natural. It seemed Mitch was right. Bud was the best kid on his team.

Then again, it helped that those two were always carting their mitts and bat bags around everywhere they went. Heck, just the other day when we’d swung into King Soopers to grab some things we needed, Billie and I went in and came out to Mitch and Bud playing catch in the parking lot.

“We were going to have a nice lunch,” I dangled my carrot.