Page 46 of The Marriage Mistake

Nothing good would come of him knowing he’d gotten to me.

The silence between us became taut. It pulled at my gut, made my body feel as tight as a bowstring. I smelled the peppercorn sauce of his meal, the wine I sipped, the spice on my chicken breast. I listened to my own heartbeat and the clink of our cutlery.

Finally, Jack leaned forward. Put his arm on the table, stretching his fingers toward me. “Ember⁠—”

His phone rang, making us both jump.

Jack reached into his pocket. “Had it on Do Not Disturb except for Glenn and Darby’s phones,” he explained. Glenn was the cousin he’d asked to babysit. Jack frowned. “It’s Glenn.” He swiped and put the phone to his ear, and immediately I could tell something was wrong. It was evident in the straightening of his spine and the sharpening of his eyes. “Yeah? Slow down. Is that her in the background? What do you mean, she won’t tell you?”

Jack was on his feet in the next second. “On my way.” He shoved the phone back in his pocket and looked at me. “Darby’s upset. She won’t tell Glenn what’s going on, and she’s locked herself in the bathroom. I need to go home.”

I crumpled the napkin I’d placed on my lap and put it on the table. “Let’s go.”

“Stay—finish your meal.” He glanced at the door. “I don’t—I’m sorry.”

“I won’t be able to eat without knowing that she’s okay,” I said, surprised to find it was the truth. “I’ll pay while you bring the car around. Meet you out front.”

Jack hesitated, clearly torn. Finally, he jerked his chin down and took off. I made my way to the front, paid, and then walked outside just as Jack was pulling up in his black SUV. He slammed to a stop outside the restaurant doors, and I jumped in.

Ten minutes later, we pulled into his garage, got out, and jogged to the house. Glenn hovered at the side door as Jack took the steps in one great leap.

“She still crying?” Jack asked, his movements jagged, his voice hoarse.

I inhaled the scent of rain and green things as I took a calming breath. Glenn nodded at his older cousin, grimacing. “She just yells at me to go away. Locked herself in the bathroom upstairs and won’t open the door.”

“Shit.” Jack didn’t bother kicking off his shoes before tearing up the steps. I gave Glenn a pinched-lip smile before following, the teen trailing behind us.

“Darbs,” Jack said softly, knocking on the bathroom door. He leaned his head against the jamb. “What’s wrong? Open up.”

“Go away!”

Jack grimaced as he closed his eyes. “What’s wrong, baby girl? I’m here. I want to help.”

“I said, go away!” The shrill shriek made me wince, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Jack. My shoulders prickled, and I knew I should slink up the next set of stairs and disappear into my room. This didn’t concern me. I was supposed to keep my distance.

But how could I go, when Darby was in trouble?

Jack’s hands curled around the doorframe, his face lined with tension. Worry wrinkled his brow. His shoulders hiked up, and he looked at the door as if he were considering kicking it down. When he spoke again, his voice was stern. “Darby⁠—”

I put a hand on his shoulder, and he startled. His glare was withering, and it took all my mettle to meet his gaze. “Jack,” I said quietly, “I say this as someone who was once a thirteen-year-old girl. Tread carefully.”

“This doesn’t concern you,” he snapped, voice as harsh as his features. “Darby!”

The door flew open, and Darby’s tear-streaked face appeared in the opening. “GO. AWAY!”

She slammed the door so hard it shook in its frame.

“Darby!” Jack boomed, rapping his fist on the hollow door. Darby’s wail pierced through the closed door.

I could taste Jack’s panic in the air. Could see it in the way his head swung back and forth. In the tenseness of his neck and shoulder muscles. He inhaled, and I knew—I just knew—that whatever came out of his mouth next would do damage.

“Jack,” I snapped. “Stop.”

The harshness of my voice surprised both of us. I sounded like a different person. That one command stripped my vocal cords raw, the snap of it echoing in the hallway. He whirled on me, eyes full of murder.

But I’d been that girl once. I’d been on the receiving end of my father’s tirades when what I needed was gentleness. I suspected Jack’s aggression came from a good place: he cared in a way my own father never had. He was worried for Darby’s well-being when my own father had seemed to relish my pain. They weren’t the same.

But Darby didn’t need his burning-hot emotion right now. She didn’t need his panic. She needed calm and care and cool stability.