“Did he mention his encounter with me earlier this evening?”
She frowned. “You talked to Brad today?”
“I ran into him and his friend when they were coming out of the arcade. I don’t blame him for not wanting to tell you about it, but I imagine you’ll hear soon enough. I’m sure there were witnesses.”
She closed her eyes and leaned against the counter, her head starting to pound harder. She just knew she wasn’t going to like this. “What happened?”
“Not a lot. Brad’s buddy Jimbo shot off his mouth and I politely informed him that his attitude could use some adjustment.”
“Brad seems angry at Jimbo tonight.”
“He should be. The guy’s a certifiable jerk. Why do you let your brother hang out with him?”
“They’ve been friends for years. Jimbo has some family problems. His parents are divorced and his father’s out of the picture, which gives the boys something in common. He’s living with his grandparents now while his mother tries to get her life back together. He’s not a bad boy, really—just angry and hurt.”
“Excuses only go so far, Sharon. He’s old eno
ugh to make his own choices now. Someone needs to make it clear to him that his choices have consequences.”
Sharon wondered if they were talking about Jimbo now—or Brad. “What did you say to them?”
“Not much. I just made it clear that I won’t tolerate much from either of them. And I told them to stay away from my truck.”
“You still think Brad did that?”
“If he did, I’m sure he had help and encouragement from his buddy. Your brother seems to be more of a follower than a leader. He’s going to have to watch that he doesn’t follow someone straight to jail.”
Growing defensive now, Sharon lifted her chin and tightened her grip on the telephone. “Thank you for the advice, Mac, but I know my brother. He isn’t quite as weak-minded as you believe.”
“I never said he was weak-minded. I just pointed out that he’s walking a thin line.”
“Then I’ll help guide him. It’s support he needs, not threats.”
“When it comes to teenagers, it sometimes takes both.”
“I’m sure you mean well, Mac, but—as people often say—it’s easy to tell other people how to raise their kids when you don’t have any, yourself.”
The silence that followed her words was so heavy and so fraught with tension that she realized she must have unwittingly hit a nerve. Always overprotective of her family, she’d allowed his criticism of Brad to make her angry, and she’d struck back. She drew a deep breath. “Mac, I—”
“Don’t apologize,” he cut in. “You say anything you feel like saying to me, okay? I’m not interested in tiptoeing around in carefully polite conversations with you. That’s not what I want from you.”
“What do you want from me, Mac?” she risked asking.
After another momentary hesitation, he replied, “That’s not a question I can answer right now.”
“Fair enough,” she murmured, telling herself it was foolish to be disappointed.
His short, dry chuckle was barely audible through the phone lines. “You’re going to be satisfied with that? You don’t want me to start spouting poetry or promising you the moon and stars?”
“I don’t want poetry or promises. I just need you to be honest with me.”
There was another pause. And then Mac cleared his throat. “I’m trying.”
Something in his voice made her sense deeper meaning to his words. She knew there were things about Mac he hadn’t told her. Parts of himself he hadn’t yet allowed her to see. But they’d only known each other a matter of weeks. The explosive connection between them had developed so rapidly. The rest would come with time, she hoped. For now, they had to rely on trust.
She was painfully aware that she had already taken a huge risk of trusting Mac with her heart.
“Maybe it would be better if I skip the cookout tomorrow,” he suggested after a moment. “You know everyone’s going to be watching us. And your brother would certainly enjoy the party more if I’m not there.”