going the right way.”
“Seriously?” He shook his head. “I’m not the one needing to be rescued. And as for cheating, now that I think about it, I only did it once—on my Algebra midterm. But for the record, I felt so bad about it I went home and learned the work inside and out. Plus, the kid I copied off of made a lousy grade, so I didn’t even reap any benefits.” Lord, listen to him—rambling like a guilty third-grader. Why? What was it about Brynn that made him even care what she thought?
* * *
“MOMMY!” TEARS CAUGHT IN Brynn’s throat when Cayden ran across the field to meet her, crushing her in a hug. Only two hours had passed since she’d last seen him, but it felt like a lifetime. “I was so scared.”
“I know, baby.” She kissed the top of his head. “Me, too.”
“Coach Jason said I was really brave, and if I practice I might be able to play later in the summer with the team.”
“That’s awesome.” Still holding her son, she looked to the man she also knew was the town police chief. “I can’t thank you enough for your help. Tristan, you, too.”
The man she’d spent a large portion of her evening with merely nodded.
The chief’s truck radio squawked, then a dispatcher called him. “Looks like I’m needed down at the Suds & Swirl, but, Cayden, no more running off when things get rough, okay?”
In the truck light’s glare, her little boy nodded.
“Promise?”
“Yeah,” Cayden said with a solemn nod.
“All right, then.” After a quick ruffle of Cayden’s hair, Jason said, “Tristan, you got this handled?”
“You know it.”
“Y’all have a good night, then.”
Brynn thanked him again for his help finding her son, waving him on his way.
When Cayden climbed into their SUV’s passenger side, she found herself once more on her own with Tristan. Immersed in darkness tempered only by the faint light of the moon, she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, let alone her galloping pulse. She owed him so much, and wanted to express her gratitude, but she was broken, and couldn’t find words to match the emotion swelling in her heart. “What you did—and the coach—helping Cayden and I...” Rather than meet his intense dark gaze she looked to her clasped hands. “Well, I appreciate your help. I haven’t had a lot of folks on my side lately, and—” Her voice cracked and that chink in her carefully constructed armor proved her undoing.
“Hey...” He approached her, but held a respectful distance.
She softly cried, covering her face with her hands. “What’s wrong with me? Tonight could’ve turned out so bad, but for once, luck shone on me. I’ve been so strong, keeping everything in.”
“Know the feeling,” he said. “The stuff I went through with my ex-wife...” Jaw clenched, he shook his head. “Hell, I’ve been shot and had it hurt less.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever been shot.” She managed a smile through her tears. “But my husband was, so I have known pain. The gambling and game-fixing were humiliating, but seeing Mack killed...” Her voice had turned raspy with grief.
“Mom!” Cayden popped his head out the open car window. “I’m hungry!”
“Duty calls.” Brynn smiled and genuinely felt it. Which made her sad for having earlier been snarky and standoffish. Tristan seemed like a great guy. She needed to remember that not every man was as despicable as her ex.
* * *
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?”
Tristan tried sneaking into his mom’s house, but as he’d feared, the second the screen door creaked open, she was up from what she called her comfy crafting chair and paused the living room TV on one of her favorite shows.
In the kitchen, Donna grabbed two beers. He expected her to hand him one, but she kept them both for herself. “You’ve worried me to drink.”
“Sorry.” He rummaged through the fridge for his own adult beverage. “After tryouts, one of the boys who didn’t make it ran off into Lee Bayou. Jason tracked him, and I went after his mother.”
“Oh?” Always on the hunt for a future daughter-in-law, her eyebrows shot up. “Anyone I know?”
He popped the top on his beer, taking a nice, long drink. “For this, you might want to sit down.”
“I’m intrigued...” So much so that she fished through the pantry for a bag of chips.
“Whoa—thought your doctor told you to drop a few pounds?”
She fished out a handful, popping them into her mouth. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Rolling his eyes, Tristan took her second beer and returned it to the fridge but let her keep her chips. “I already lost Dad to a heart attack. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer keeping you.”
After sticking out her tongue, she snagged a few more chips before closing the bag. “All right, enough lecturing. Tell me about your mystery date.”
“It wasn’t a date, but we had to rescue Mack’s wife and son.”
“Mack Langtoine?”
“Yep.” Tristan needed another drink. Just as he never would’ve believed Andrea would leave him, he felt the same of his old friend cheating in the game he loved.
“What do you think of the whole thing? Was he guilty?”
He shrugged. “Brynn seems to think so.”
“Poor girl.” His mom drank more beer. “And then to have him gunned down like that, right in front of her. Too much for a tiny thing like her to bear—especially being pregnant.”
Joining her at the table, he asked, “How far along is she?”
“Garden club gossip has her at eight months.”
“So she’s in your club?”
“I wish.” She fingered the bag of chips. “Judging by what she’s already done with the old Langtoine place’s yard, she’s got a green thumb, but very much keeps to herself. Her neighbor to the east is Georgia Booth. She’s been over three times with muffins and Brynn never even answers the door. Georgia didn’t think it proper, and had to practically stalk her outside to even bring the girl baked goods. Peculiar, if you ask me.”
Tristan had another view. “What if Brynn’s scared? So many people have trash-talked her, associating her with Mack’s crimes, she’s probably terrified of being judged.”
“That’s pretty deep,” his mom observed. “Since when are you so smart?”
He laughed. “Know what they say about with hindsight comes twenty-twenty vision? Well, if
