Page 93 of Making Over Maris

God, she loved these guys. She loved this place.

And she felt like a steaming pile of shit for lying to them. But she had to. They couldn’t know about her and Jack. They would be so disappointed with her. “Thank you. I…appreciate that.”

Adam handed her a tissue and she mopped up.

“Anything.” Tristan’s expression was so serious, so sincere, it only made her feel worse.

“Yeah.” Adam nodded. “Anything.”

“I… Yeah. Thank you.”

They both studied her, eyes wide and full of sympathy, as though she were a wounded bird.

If it wasn’t so damn sweet, it would be exasperating.

“Okay. Well. Thank you both. I appreciate that. But now I have to get back to work. Is there…anything else?”

“No.” Adam shot a look at his brother.

“No. Just that. We’re here for you.”

“Yeah. We’re here for you.”

Sara nodded. “Thank you.” She pushed back her chair. “I have to get back to work.”

“Sure.”

“Sure.”

She stood and rounded the table and, because she couldn’t not, she gave them each a hug. They watched her leave—which was unnerving. It probably accounted for the way she skittered from the room, down the hall and to the relative safety of her office.

Damn.

Damn and damn.

She barely had time to recover and reawaken her laptop—to do some actual work—when Jack poked his head into her office. Her pulse kicked up when she saw him. She’d never tell him what she’d learned. He clearly hadn’t wanted her to know.

But she’d never forget it.

“Hey, Jack.”

“Hey,” he said. Without invitation he came in and closed the door. “What was that all about?” He plopped into the chair.

Sara sighed. “They’re worried about me.”

“Worried?” He frowned. “Should they be worried? Is there something to be worried about? What’s wrong?”

She loved the concern in his voice. The way he leaned forward. The intensity in his eyes. “Nothing’s wrong, Jack. They’ve noticed I’ve been…distracted. They thought I was freaking out about Mom.”

“Are you? Freaking out?”

“No. Mom’s fine, Jack.” She shot him a look. “It’s other things that have me distracted.”

A broad grin spread across his face. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. But they were so nice, I feel guilty.”

He stilled. “Guilty about us?”