Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
MACKENZIE
“You’re making a mistake.”
Jordan’s voice cuts through the crisp air, sharp enough to make me freeze mid-step. My stomach twists, and for a brief second, I consider walking straight to my car without looking back. But I know my brother. He won’t let this go. I grit my teeth, turn around, and face him, already bracing for a fight.
“What are you talking about now?” My voice is steady despite the tension coiling in my chest.
Jordan steps closer, his brows drawn tight. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re letting some stranger hang around your boys. They’re kids, Mackenzie. Impressionable kids. You don’t know anything about this guy. He could disappear tomorrow, and then what?”
His words hit a nerve, just like they always do.
“Nate isn’t a stranger,” I snap. “He’s a good guy. Why are you so determined to make him into a threat?”
“Because something about him doesn’t sit right with me.” Jordan’s jaw clenches as he crosses his arms. “You don’t see it because you don’t want to. You’re so desperate for help that you’re blind to the risks. ”
My fists clench at my sides. “This isn’t about Nate. This is about you wanting to control everything.”
“It’s about keeping your kids safe,” he fires back. “I haven’t been able to prove anything yet, but I will.”
I shake my head, biting back the words I want to scream at him. My gaze flickers toward the porch, where my boys are laughing and playing, blissfully unaware of the tension between their mother and uncle. “Give it up, Jordan. Worry about your own life and stay the hell out of mine.”
His face hardens. “Don’t tell me not to worry. Whether you want to believe it, I care about you. About them.”
I exhale slowly, trying to stay calm. “I know you do. But you’ve got to back off. Spend time with them at Mom’s house. Otherwise, let me live my life.”
“It should be me taking them to practices,” he mutters. “Not … him.”
The weight of the unspoken words hangs in the air. Ethan’s voice echoes in my mind, sharp and unforgiving: Never trust your brother . I know Jordan wouldn’t intentionally hurt my kids, but the doubts linger. Ethan never believed in Jordan, and I’ve spent years trying not to see my brother through my late husband’s eyes.
“Drop it, Jordan.” My voice is firm as I stand taller. “I’ll let you know if anything changes. Until then, leave it alone.”
He hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Noted.”
“I’m still digging into his past.”
I sigh. This is how he charms his way into Mom’s heart by acting as if he cares. When all Jordan really cares about is himself.
“Fine. Let me know if you find anything.” I take off toward the car before he can throw another accusation my way.
“One more thing,” he calls after me.
I close my eyes and count to three before turning back. “What now?”
“I’m getting Liam a dirtbike for his birthday. ”
My hand flies to my chest as a gasp escapes. If anything happened to my kid, I … I can’t even think straight. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Forget it. I don’t want to see one near my child, period.”
Jordan smirks, shaking his head. “You worry about the wrong things, sis. You’re raising those boys to be wimps. They need someone to teach them how to be men, not some stranger who’s only after one thing.”
His words sting, but before I respond, he walks away, leaving me fuming. My hands shake as I march to my car, fighting the urge to scream. How dare he? How dare he tell me how to raise my kids or who I can let into my life?
I slam the door shut and grip the steering wheel. Jordan’s voice echoes in my head, blending with Mrs. Morgan’s earlier warning. Is Nate a mistake? Doubt creeps in, coiling tightly around my chest. But then I remember Nate’s laugh, his patience with my boys, and how he looks at me like I’m someone worth seeing.
He isn’t out for anything. What would he gain from being in my life? Nothing.
I exhale sharply and start the car. Tonight isn’t about Jordan or Mrs. Morgan. Or anyone else. Tonight is about me.
The moment I pull into my drive, my doubts evaporate. The sight of a familiar-looking F250 parked in front of my house sends a flutter through my chest. I can deal with those doubts another day.
Tonight, I’m going to have fun.
Tonight, I’ll let the cards fall where they may.
Tonight, I’m not going to overthink and just do.
My stomach flips when the tall, brooding man steps out of his pickup and greets me with that rare smile reserved for me.
“You ready?” he asks, his voice low and steady.
I step out of the car and smile back, a real one this time. “More than ready.”
For once, I’m just going to live.