Page 35 of Pretty Little Scars

“So this is where I tell you that if you fuck with her, they’ll never find the body.”

Holding his gaze, I nod slowly. “Nothing is happening that isn’t completely consensual.”

“That’s not really what I wanted to hear.”

“It should be. She’s not much younger than us, Holden. She’s a grown woman. A beautiful, smart, lovely woman, and I’m not an asshole.”

He blows out a breath and shoves his hands in his pockets, and then finally nods. “You’re right. She’s smart as fuck, and she can make her own choices. Just ... she’s had enough shit in her life.”

“Yeah, I know.”

His gaze whips to mine in surprise.

“She didn’t tell me everything, but enough. She’s not fragile, you know.”

After another moment of my girl’s older brother staring me down, he finally says, “Yeah, I know.”

“Why are you looking at each other like that?”

I glance over and find Darby frowning at both of us. I didn’t hear her come back outside, but she has two plates loaded down with food. Ribs, potatoes, corn, beans ... it’s a feast.

But when I expect her to pass the second plate to her brother, she shocks me and offers it to me instead.

“I hope you like everything because I brought you some of each,” she informs me as I take the plate, and then she picks up her fork and dives in.

Sweetest fucking thing.

“Thanks,” I tell her and then look over to where Holden is watching us.

“I’m going to go find my wife.”

He stalks off, and Darby turns back to me. “Did he grill you or make you uncomfortable?”

“No.”

She narrows her eyes. “Yes, he did.”

“He didn’t make me uncomfortable, Duchess.”

“But hedidgrill you.”

“He’s your big brother. What do you think? I grill every asshole who tries to date my sisters.”

“You had a talk with Blake?”

“Of course I did. I mean, I knew him already, but yeah. I called him. It’s what we do.” I take a bite of beans. “Thanks for making me a plate. Is this your way of flirting with me?”

Her lips twitch, and she shoves a bite of potato in her mouth, avoiding the question. Her eyes hold mine as she chews, and I reach over to take a little smudge of sour cream from the corner of her lips.

“Thanks,” she says.

“You’re welcome. You kicked ass today.”

“I think we all did,” she replies and looks around at the guys. They’re chatting and joking, but we all look tired.

Twelve hours of hard work in the sun will do that to you.

“The farrier is coming tomorrow to work on the horses’ hooves,” I tell her. “I should be around, but I wanted to let you know ahead of time.”