Mack dug in. “You can cook for me as much as you want when you move here. I won’t complain.”
She made a noncommittal noise.
Mack looked up from his plate. “What’s wrong? You hoping I’ll hire a personal chef for you?” He was teasing, but mostly to cover his own insecurity. His mom had that cagey look about her again.
Erin set down her fork and let out a long breath. “Braden . . .”
He swallowed hard. “What?”
“Maybe we should put this on hold for a while.”
“Put what on hold?”
“I really do appreciate everything you’re doing with the house search, but . . .”
Mack sat back in his chair. “Just spit it out, Mom.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to move yet.”
Mack blinked several times, set his fork down, and wiped his mouth. Mostly to give himself time to formulate a response that didn’t sound like a temper tantrum. “I don’t understand,” he finally ground out.
“You’ve spent so much time trying to take care of me that you missed the fact that I don’t need to be cared for anymore.”
A line of sweat that had nothing to do with his recent run formed along his brow. “You’re alone there.”
“I’m not,” she insisted, leaning forward. “I have friends, coworkers.”
“But no family.”
“I’m seeing someone.” She let out a quick breath after she said it, as if she’d been building up to that all along and now couldn’t believe she’d finally gotten the words out.
Mack sucked in a breath like he’d been sucker punched. “Who?”
“He’s a very nice man—”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Jason, and he’s a professor at the university.”
“Professor of what?” Not that it mattered, but . . .
“Physics.”
“How’d you meet him?” His voice sounded like his throat was lined with glass.
“Mutual friends.”
Mack picked up his plate and took it to the sink. He scraped his uneaten food into the disposal. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is he the one who sent you flowers?”
“He was, and I didn’t tell you because of the way you’re reacting.”
“How am I reacting?”
“Wounded.”
Mack ignored that. “How long have you been seeing him?”
“Several months.”
“Does Liam know?”
Her pause was all the answer he needed. His brother had fucking lied to him yesterday. Mack whipped around. “I’m going to take a shower.”
He made it ten steps before she stopped him. “Braden, how long are you going to lie about what happened with your father?”
His hands clenched into fists. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Avoiding it doesn’t make it go away.”
“It has worked just fine for me until now.”
“Has it, though?” She walked around to face him. “I want to see you happy and settled.”
“I’d be happy and settled if you’d move here.”
“No you wouldn’t.”
Mack uncurled his fingers. “What does any of this have to do with him?”
She placed her palm in the center of his chest. “Everything.”
Mack shook his head and wiped his hand across his nose.
“You deserve to let this go,” she said, patting his chest. “To be happy.”
Mack sidestepped her and left her standing in the kitchen. He was happy. He was Braden-Fucking-Mack. King of Nashville’s night-life and everyone’s best friend.
The ride to the airport was tense in a way that it hadn’t been between them in a long time.
“You can just drop me at the curb, honey.”
Mack rolled his eyes. “I can walk you into the airport, Mom.”
“You’re mad at me and in a bad mood, and this will be better for both of us.”
“Wow, that eager to get rid of me?” He whipped into an open spot in front of the terminal and shoved the car into park.
“Look at me.”
He obeyed. Briefly.
“I know you’re angry and also a little hurt. I’m sorry for that.”
He gave a one-shouldered shrug and immediately felt like a petulant child for it, but whatever. He was angry. He was hurt.
“I’m doing this for your own good, Braden. It’s time to focus on your life for a while, finally stop worrying about mine.”
Mack jumped out of the car and unloaded her suitcase from the trunk. He met her on the sidewalk on the other side of the car.
“Hey.” She reached up with both hands and cupped his cheeks. “I like her.”
He didn’t bother asking who she meant. Mack liked her too. More than he should.
“She’s good for you,” Erin said, pulling away. “Tell her the truth.”
Right. The truth. That would just solve everything, wouldn’t it? Liv hated liars. She’d made that abundantly clear, and that was without knowing the extent of the lie he lived