Page 82 of These Summer Storms

It was Jack who tipped the scale. “I think it’s important for someone who knows the ins and outs of the approved guest list to be with Tony and Storm security for the walkthrough. Who is the best person in the family for that?”

The invocation of Tony made the decision for Greta, though she didn’t look to Jack. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Greta tilted her head in Jack’s direction. “Are you okay with him?”

Dark brows snapped together. He didn’t like that. “Of course she’s okay with me. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Considering the way he consumed Alice’s thoughts despite him having lied to her multiple times, there was noof courseabout it. Ignoring him, she spoke directly to Greta. “I’ll be fine. Let me know if you need anything.”

The eldest Storm sibling wouldn’t need anything. Greta made it a point of pride not to need anything from anyone. Still, she nodded, and took off, through the back hallway, past the kitchen, and presumably out the rear door to the house to find Tony, who wouldn’t be far. He might not have Franklin to protect, but the look on his face earlier that morning had been proof that he was more than willing to stand as Greta’s protector for as long as she would have him.

Not long, Alice feared.

They were all so willing to roll over for Franklin.

“So. It’s the two of us again.” Jack hadn’t moved from his place in that pool of sunlight.

“You’re pretty good at that,” she said, closing the distance between them, telling herself she wanted to keep their conversation private.

“At what?” He straightened in that way she was beginning to notice, going tight, as though he were on the cusp of movement.

She took another step toward him. “At getting my family to do what you want them to do.”

“I had nothing to do with it.” He paused. “Well. Maybe Sam.”

“Definitely Sam.” She tilted her face up to his. “It hadn’t occurred to me how useful it might be to have a fixer around.”

“It doesn’t take a fixer to know you don’t put the loudmouth in the same room as the Secret Service with an old lady high as a kite ten yards away.”

For a single, strange moment, the situation overwhelmed them, and they smiled at each other. “Your family,” he said finally, shaking his head, as though it meant something.

It did. “I know.”

“Why haven’t you told them you’re not engaged anymore?”

He was good at that, too, asking questions out of the blue, setting someone on the back foot. Making them feel like answering.

Making her want to tell him things. “My family doesn’t respond well to failure.”

A beat, and she could see him choosing his words. “Was it a failure?”

“I was engaged, and now I’m not, so…”

“It feels like it would have been more of a failure if you’d married someone who couldn’t see what he had.”

She ignored the thrum of excitement that came at the words (so smooth). “Access to the Storm inheritance?”

He shook his head. “Don’t.”

She looked away, wanting to tell him she was kidding. That it was a joke. Embarrassed that it wasn’t.

“You weren’t the failure,” he repeated. “And if he made you feel that way…”

Her gaze fell to his right hand. “Are you going to defend my honor?”

He lifted it, flexing it in the light, which restored red to his now-healed knuckles. “My reputation speaks for itself.”

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