Mara McBain (21 page)

“There was no
attack
,” Wade snapped in disgust. “If you found me so terrifying and objectionable, why did you seek me out after my nephew divorced you? You were willing enough to continue our dalliance until I refused to bankroll your apartment and shopping habits.”

Catherine turned her teary face back to Trey, desperation etching her fine features. “That’s not true.”

“Rose will confirm she was in Richmond.”

“Trey, baby,” she pleaded, reaching out a hand.

“Don’t,” Trey growled, flinching away from her touch.

Gen stepped between them, her expressive eyes suddenly hard and flinty. Catherine shrank back from the unspoken warning.

Cole broke the tense silence. His normally gentle voice dropped a full octave and when he spoke; his tone was dangerous and hard.

“Get out,” he growled, taking a step toward Wade. His fists clenched into tight balls at his sides. “Get out and take that faithless whore with you,” he snarled, glancing Catherine’s way with a hatred that made her tremble. She slumped when his pale eyes turned back to bore into his uncle. “Maybe you don’t remember the last time we spoke, but my memory isn’t as lacking. I swear on my mama’s grave I will put that buckshot in your gut if I ever see your face again. You aren’t worthy of being a McCade—either of you. You never were.” He prowled closer, pinning Wade against the back of the couch. He looked down at the older man with a disgust that was palpable. “You have two minutes to get your asses out of this house and off my brother’s property, or so help me God; I will hunt you down and make you feel every ounce of pain and suffering you have caused him.”

His steely glare flickered to the pastor. “God’s good grace or not, I highly suggest you do the same. I’m done watching my brother take cheap shots from you and this town.”

Trey cleared his throat. The quiet gesture commanded the attention of the room. “I think what my little brother here is trying to say is you need to leave, and now would be the time to do it. What happened in the past is no longer my concern. The child is not mine, and I refuse to be dragged down into this filth and disgrace any longer. You know where the door is. I believe it would be best if you see yourselves out.”

Wade didn’t bother with his coat or Catherine. He slipped away from Cole and made a beeline for the door. Catherine scrambled to her feet, grabbing awkwardly for her coat as she juggled her daughter. The pastor stepped forward to help her before grabbing his own overcoat and Wade’s. He escorted the shaking woman to the door and then turned back, a mournful expression giving his jowly face a hangdog look.

“Trey, I’m sorry if—”

“Now’s not the time, Paul,” Trey said simply.

The pastor looked like he was going to say something else, but his shoulders slumped and he nodded. Shuffling out the door, he closed it behind him. 

Gen turned into his chest, and Trey enfolded her in a hug, resting his cheek against her silky copper hair. Silence hung over the house for a long moment. It was Cole that chose to break it again.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Adrienne.

“It was your family drama, stud. I was just an innocent bystander,” Adri answered, lips twitching in amusement.

“You’re never innocent,” he said with a chuckle. “Seriously, what made you change your mind?”

“No one said I did.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “What made you decide to give me a chance?”

“I had an interesting conversation last night when I couldn’t sleep,” she said, blushing as she shot a look in Trey’s direction out of the corner of her eye. “There is a possibility that I may have misunderstood your sincerity the other day in the barn.” 

“A possibility?” Cole asked dryly.

Adri smirked and shrugged a dainty shoulder.

Trey kissed the top of his wife’s head. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s go make some breakfast while the kids work things out.”

Gen’s giggle held a tinge of relief mixed with happiness. She kept one arm wrapped around his middle as they left the room. He wasn’t sure the other two noticed their departure.

“You had a talk with Adrienne?”

He smiled down at his wife. There was no jealousy in her tone, just an overwhelming curiosity.

“She couldn’t sleep and came looking for the magic ingredient for a little Irish coffee. I have a bottle of whiskey in the den, and we talked while we shared a drink.”

Gen shook her head with a smile.

“What?”

“Nothing.

“What’re you shaking your head about,” he asked, tilting her chin up. 

“You’re full of surprises,” she whispered, her smile telling him that was a good thing.

“So are you. Don’t think I missed that look you gave Catherine, Mrs. McCade,” he teased, needing this after the morning they’d had.

“As long as you grant me that title, this body is mine to touch,” Gen said, stroking his belly possessively. “No one else’s.”

“I love it when you touch me,” he said, covering her hand with his. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.”

“I’m sorry you did too,” she said softly. Her expression hardened as she outlined his hand with the index finger of her free one. “I hate to see you hurt. I agree with Cole. I’m done biting my tongue while people take shots at you. If they mess with one McCade, they’re going to get us all.”

Trey couldn’t help it. He laughed at his firebrand’s fearsome expression. “I was right that first night. You keep life interesting.”

Gen giggled and blushed lightly, but pulled her hand loose so she could wrap her arms around his waist. “I love you.”

Trey closed his eyes, soaking in the love that radiated from this strong woman. It was so much more than words with her. The emotion resonated in her every action, her every look. She fearlessly loved with everything that she was. Her courage humbled him.

“I don’t know that I deserve you, but I love you too, darlin'.”

His wife smiled up at him with that look that made him feel like he could conquer the world. He stroked his fingers through her still drying copper hair and cupped her freckled face in his hands. 

“I don’t promise to always get it right, but I do love you, and I’m going to do it the only way I know how. The McCade way,” he said hoarsely.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”