Page 4 of Mack

Sam smiled, crow’s feet deepening at the corners of his eyes. “There are days when it’s packed with suits and you’ll be grateful for the stairs instead. I’ve taken them fast more than once after a trial went the wrong way.”

“I understand. Been there many times.”

Sam looked at him. “I know.”

Mack pushed off the doorframe. “I’ll get back to it. Got some reports to catch up on.”

“I hope you stick around, Mack. I could use another good deputy. Brody and Nevada are handling more office work these days, so you’ll mostly be running with Jack, Logan, and Declan. Mark has a new partner now too. Good men, all of them.”

“I know. It was good connecting with them again. I didn’t know Nevada, but he seems solid.”

“They all are. I don’t hire less.” Sam leaned back and nodded toward the chair across from his desk.

Mack hesitated, then sat. He looked at Sam. “What is it?”

“I know you haven’t decided anything yet.” Sam’s expression settled into something careful. “But what if Ariana changes her mind?”

Mack’s jaw tightened. “She won’t. And even if she did, I’m done. She cheated, Sam. That’s not something I can get past.”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded slowly. “I hear you. Come to dinner sometime. Tessa would love to see you.”

Mack pointed at him. “No setting me up.”

Sam grinned. “I won’t. Though I can’t make the same promise for Tessa. She’s got opinions about your social life.”

Mack shook his head. “I’m not interested until I know where I stand.”

“Fair enough.” Sam sat forward, morning sunlight catching the silver strands at his temples. “I’ve got reports to get through.”

Mack stood. “I’ll be heading out soon.” He gave a nod and walked back to his office, dropping into the creaking chair. A stack of papers waited on the desk, telling him everything he’d be doing for the next few hours. Somewhere down the hall, fresh coffee was brewing.

****

Mallory tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as her mother’s white sedan pulled into the driveway. “Hi, Mom,” she said, opening the door to the familiar scent of lavender perfume.

“Hi, honey.” Georgia’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Where’s my boy?”

“Nana!” The thunder of small feet preceded T.J. by half a second. He launched himself into his grandmother’s arms, worn plush T-Rex clutched tight.

“Timothy Joseph Nichols.” Mallory’s voice was stern, her eyes soft. “We do not run in the house.”

He looked up at her with those big brown eyes and flashed a grin. “‘cept to Nana.”

Mallory shook her head. “You two have fun. Stop by the shop if you get a chance.”

“We will, though I think we might go for a ride first.” Georgia smoothed T.J.’s bangs. “How does that sound?”

“Marty!” He bounced on his toes, his dinosaur swinging wildly.

Mallory smiled watching him. The little Shetland pony was his favorite thing in the world, rivaled only by his dinosaur collection and the stuffed T-Rex that went everywhere he did.

Mallory kissed T.J.’s cheek, hugged her mother, grabbed her keys, and stepped out into the morning sun. It was late August and not giving into cooler weather yet. She’d take a foot of snow over this heat any day.

She climbed into her Tahoe, pulled out of the gravel driveway, and headed toward town, the early sun slanting through the windshield in long golden shafts.

Main Street unfolded ahead, a ribbon of pastel storefronts with painted windowpanes still catching the morning light. At nine on a Monday the sidewalks should have been quiet, but a steady trickle of people moved along both sides. From Sweet Nothings Bakery came the warm, yeasty sweetness of cinnamon rolls, and from The Everyday Grind the rich bittersweet tang of fresh espresso curled into the air like lazy smoke.

Mallory glanced at her empty cup holder. She’d sworn off coffee once the heat set in, a rule her mother found baffling. Georgia would brew a pot at two in the morning if the mood struck her, and no amount of summer heat would slow her down. It was such a her thing, that stubborn cheerfulness. Mallory had grown up in a house full of it, where good manners and genuine kindness weren’t rules so much as just the way things were done.