More Than Protect You (More Than Words #6.5) - Shayla Black Page 0,46

are having children of their own. I see opening a new range, being good friends with Trace. I picture his baby boy Ranger and Oliver growing up together. I even imagine having my own children with Mandy. I can almost taste how happy we’d be. And I want it so fucking bad.

First, I have to make this threat against her stop. I’m grateful last night was quiet so we could sleep and regroup. Now I want to figure out who this asshole is and end this mess.

How?

Mandy breezes out of the bedroom, now in another summery dress in a muted green and tan sandals. Her hair hangs loose to the small of her waist. She’s applied some mascara that draws attention to her blue eyes and a hint of lip gloss that enhances her smile.

Could I really be lucky enough to spend the rest of my life with a woman this gorgeous, both inside and out?

“I’m ready.”

I stand and pluck Oliver from the floor, grabbing one of his trucks for amusement when he fusses. “Let’s go.”

“I texted Harlow to thank her and tell her we’re on our way.”

Vaguely, I wonder if the Noah Weston will be there. I would like to meet him someday, but now is mostly about Mandy and Harlow patching up their friendship, not me celebrity gawking.

After a trip to the post office, Mandy holds my hand as I mail my divorce papers. Other than a formality, Ellie and I are over. It’s the end of one part of my life. But a glance down at the beautiful blonde beside me makes me glad for the part I pray is about to start.

From there, GPS takes us to the swankiest part of the island, beyond a live guard and an electronic gate. I park the car, and Harlow stands outside in a red blouse and a pair of crisp white shorts, dark hair curling around her shoulders. Beside her is a hulk of a man who looks like an older version of Trace holding an infant.

Beside me, Mandy slides out of the Mustang, then frees Oliver from his car seat. Together they walk toward Harlow and Noah. I follow, hanging behind. I don’t want to be in the middle of their reunion, but I should be close if she needs me.

“Hi,” Mandy says to them.

I know that voice. I hear the hesitation in it. She’s hopeful…but unsure of her welcome. She’s aware of how much she screwed up the Reed family and she feels terrible.

“Good to see you.” Harlow waves.

Mandy sends her a tentative smile. “Is it? You don’t hate me?”

The brunette tsks. “I thought we’d get inside before we dove into the heavy stuff, but…what the hell? No, I don’t hate you. I don’t understand because I’ve always known my dad was an unfeeling, womanizing douche. And if I’d known you had a crush on him—”

“It was more than a crush.”

Harlow’s face softens. “Obviously. If I’d known, I would have told you the truth about him long before anything happened between you two. But”—she smiles brightly—“then we wouldn’t have Oliver.” She crouches and holds out her arms to the little boy.

I’m surprised when he goes right to her. When Harlow picks him up, their identical eyes make it obvious they’re both Barclay Reed’s kids.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Mandy says to Noah.

“Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hopefully some of it was good.” She’s only half joking.

“Most. The rest? That’s just Harlow being Harlow.” He winks.

“That’s always been true.” Mandy manages a grin, looking a bit less tense.

“What?” Harlow shrugs. “I’m just slightly opinionated.”

They both turn to her with astonished expressions. “Slightly?”

Laughing, I stick out my hand to Noah. “Tanner Kirk. It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Weston.”

“Just Noah. Nice to meet you, too. Beer?”

I don’t care that I’ll have to restrict myself to a couple of sips. I’m talking to Noah freaking Weston. “That sounds great.”

The women head inside the humongous oceanside mansion. It’s like something out of a magazine, and I try not to gawk. Just…wow. Mandy seems unruffled by it all, which confirms again that she grew up uber wealthy. I still wonder what she’s doing with me. I’m never going to be able to give her half of this luxury. On the other hand, she’s had the slick, wealthy guy. I have to believe she’d ten times rather have something real. If that’s what she wants, she’s with the right man.

“Any preference?” Noah asks as he opens the fridge. “Trace subscribed