The crowd gasped.

So did Lorenda. "Mitchell!"

"Whoa." Dylan stepped in between Mitchell and Bart. "You don't want to do that, buddy. Not with all these people watching, trust me."

"Lawson, I've allowed your presence here because of Lorenda, but you start a disturbance everywhere you go," Bart said. "I have to look out for the students, so you're no longer welcome on school property."

Lorenda had to do something to salvage the situation. "Bart, that's a little drast-"

"Then my wife can't be here either," Mitchell said. Like she wasn't even standing there.

"I can speak for myself," she ground out.

His stare, which had Bart zeroed, was lethal. "We've already talked about this, Sparky."

This had to stop. This wasn't the time and the place, but Mitchell's imagination was running wild and making an already difficult situation worse. She understood that he was accustomed to war, and being in a little town like Red River didn't provide the constant adrenaline rush he was used to, but this was bordering on delusional.

Tugging his arm, she pulled him away so they could have some privacy. "No, Mitchell, you've talked about it. I've listened, but I can't do that anymore. Your preoccupation with Bart needs to end."

"You're taking his side, Lorenda?" He didn't call her Sparky this time, and it made her pause.

"I'm not taking anyone's side."

"That's funny, because the only side I'm on is yours." Mitchell's words clipped out, like he was angry. Or maybe hurt. "I thought that might be worth something to you."

Lorenda knew he wasn't just talking about the music program. Cameron had never been on her side. Never been there for her at all. Now Mitchell was overcompensating with overkill protectiveness.

"Is that why you're acting so crazy and blowing the situation out of proportion? Because you're trying to make up for Cameron's lack of interest?"

A muscle in Mitchell's jaw ticked. "Is that what you think? That I'm acting crazy for wanting to protect you?"

"No!" She lowered her voice. "No, but I don't think Bart is capable of all the things that have happened."

"He's capable of far more, and even if you can't see it, I want you to trust me." He closed the small space between them. Leaned in so that his quick, angry breaths washed over her cheeks. "And none of this has to do with my brother, Sparky. I'm looking out for you because I-" He stopped.

Her breath caught, and she held it. Time slowed, and she waited . . . wanted him to say, "Because I love you."

"Because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you," he finally finished.

Her heart dropped to her toes. More of his martyr heroics. She wasn't sure why she'd expected anything different. But somehow she had. She'd lost her heart to him, and he couldn't give all of his in return. Over the weekend, she'd convinced herself that he loved her.

Obviously, her imagination was working overtime just like Mitchell's.

"Bart got all of these parents to give me another chance. He deserves some credit for that." She stood her ground. Daniel Summerall had told her to go after the things she wanted, and she wanted the music program to work.

Mitchell stood his ground too. "He did it to stay close to you. Now he's trying to get between you and me so he has you alone and vulnerable."

"That's silly."

"Bart wants me out of the way," Mitchell said. "The question is, Sparky, do you? Because if you do, I can move back into the garage apartment."

Her pulsed kicked, and tears threatened. How could he make her choose? If he really did love her, would he be issuing an ultimatum? She'd given up enough in her life. She wasn't giving up anything else.

"This is my dream, Mitchell. The only way I'll ever be able to make a difference." She took a step back. "Bart is trying to help me with it."

Mitchell crossed his arms over his chest. "His goal is not to help you. Don't be nave."

Fury bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. Nave? Nave was getting married at twenty years old to a man who put her at the bottom of his list. Nave was marrying his twin brother-who had a martyr complex that could rival Joan of Arc's-under false pretenses.

Nave was thinking Mitchell might love her just because their sex was so good that she'd darned near had an out-of-body experience.

She pulled her phone from her jacket pocket and held it up. "I've got the safety app you downloaded. If I need you, I'll call." She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I don't want you to be at any more rehearsals." She swallowed. "Please leave."

Mitchell's posture had already been tense, but every inch of his perfectly formed frame seemed to solidify to stone.

"Are you going somewhere?" Minx purred. "I can . . ." Minx's voice sputtered, the service coughing out the last of her words. ". . . provide . . ." She cut out. "direc . . ." The screen on the phone flickered, then died out completely. Lorenda pushed the power button.

Dead as her music program had been until Bart breathed life into it again.

Mitchell retrieved his phone from his back pocket. "Use mine." He put it in her hand. "The boys are on the playground. I'll use one of their phones until I get you another one."

He studied her from behind those sexy aviators, and she almost caved. But she couldn't. Not when she was so close to success. So she resisted the urge to gnaw her lip, lifted her chin, and refused to look away.

He turned and walked out of the gym.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Thursday evening, Lorenda parked in Joe's back parking lot to join the mommy mafia and discuss last-minute details for the concert dress rehearsal over dinner. She pulled down the visor and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

Delta. Powder and makeup wasn't hiding the new shiner and swollen schnoz she'd accidentally given herself with a runaway champagne cork. Yesterday evening she'd been so happy with the kids' progress she'd decided to celebrate, snagged the bottle of champagne from the fridge that she and Mitchell had never gotten around to opening, and popped the cork to have a victory toast.

By herself, since Mitchell had moved back into the apartment.

The sting of sadness sliced through her. She'd known what she was getting into by marrying Mitchell, and she'd done it anyway. His overzealous need to protect her might have been in the right place, but it was also ruining her dream. And that dream was all she'd have left if . . . when he left.

She'd been on her own for so long, it surprised her how quickly she'd fallen into the habit of thinking of her and Mitchell as two halves of a whole. It was time to stand on her own two feet again like she always had.

She'd started by not checking in with him anymore. This was Red River. She could take care of herself without an alpha babysitter.

She forced the sick feeling of longing and loneliness out of her mind, even if it did still pound at the door of her heart. She'd been through it before and gotten over it. She could do it again.

She retrieved a powder compact from her purse, dabbing her nose and around her eye. The cork had caught her right where the two joined, blackening both of them.

"Ow." She hissed in a breath when she tried to slide a pair of fashionable sunglasses onto her nose, going for the Garbo look. She pulled them off and found Jaycee's baseball cap in the back seat. Adjusted the bill so it hung low and shadowed the top half of her face.

Sierra. She flipped up the visor and stuffed Mitchell's phone in her purse, since she still hadn't gotten a new one for herself. It was getting dark. Maybe no one would notice. She snuck in through the back door just in case, and found her BFFs in a corner booth.

"What happened?" Miranda blurted.

"Shh!" Lorenda hissed out. "I'm trying to stay incognito."

"Looks like someone punched you," whispered Angelique.

Lorenda tried to angle her back to the crowd. "A champagne cork got away from me. It's nothing."

Langston walked over. "Ladies' night out, I see."

"Hey, Langston," Ella said. "We're just surveying the damage to your sister's face."

Lorenda turned a half smile on him.

"What the hell happened?" His voice was a near shout.

Every head turned.

Lorenda tried to pinch the bridge of her nose, but it hurt, so she looked toward the wall again to hide her face from the crowd. "I had an argument with an angry champagne cork. It won."

"Ouch. Must've been one badass cork." Langston took a swallow of his beer with a snort.

"Don't be a pansy," Lorenda said. "I've been through childbirth. Twice."

"I know. Mom and Dad never let me forget that the grandchild score is two to zero in your favor." He rolled his eyes.

"If you draw attention to my bruises again, I'm going to sit here all night and make you listen to our labor and delivery stories"-she gave him a sidelong glance-"in agonizing detail."

"Later, ladies." Langston walked away.

The waitress came over to take their orders. When it was Lorenda's turn she said, "I'll have the number three and water with a wedge of lemon." The server left, and Lorenda turned her attention back to her three BFFs. Who stared at her with open mouths.

"What?"

"Mm, mm, mm." Ella shook her head.

Miranda let out a low whistle. "The sex is that good, huh?"

Well. Yes, it had been. Until their argument in the gym a few days ago. But what did that have to do with her drink order? "What are you guys talking about?"

"You always order beer during girls night out. Always. It's the only time you drink because the kids aren't with you," Angelique said. "If you're content with water, then something else is filling that void."

Ella adjusted in her seat so she could look over Lorenda's shoulder. "And the thing filling that void just walked in."

Bruises forgotten, she turned to gawk at Mitchell, who glanced in her direction before sliding onto a stool next to his father and Joe. Totally not the trio she expected to see meeting up for a friendly drink.

All four of the mommy mafia kept staring. Mitchell must've sensed the attention because he glanced over a shoulder at them and did a double take.

Lorenda jerked back around. But not without taking notice of the dozens of eyes on her. A buzz started to circulate the room as people whispered. And stared at her. And whispered some more. Then started to shoot daggers at Mitchell with their eyes.

Foxtrot.

The waitress delivered their food and drinks.

"That's a lot of testosterone over on that stool." Miranda picked at her chicken and steamed veggies.

Was it ever.

"I'm glad you're obviously putting it to good use." Ella cut into her steak.

Lorenda would've blushed if she hadn't wanted to cry. She missed Mitchell, and not just because of the sex. She missed him being in her life. Being part of her, because she did feel like part of her was missing.

"What's going on?" Miranda asked. She knew Lorenda too well.

"Nothing I want to talk about tonight." Lorenda pulled a checklist from her purse. "Let's talk about the concert and dress rehearsal before our food arrives."

She ran through the list until she was satisfied that all the bases were covered. "Thanks, guys. I don't know what I'd do without you. The kids are making amazing progress, so we're going to be ready."

Lorenda just wasn't sure she was ready. She was finally getting a chance to teach music. But the cost might be more than she could bear.

Mitchell was worn out by trying to covertly keep up with Lorenda the last few days. He'd kept his distance just enough so she wouldn't get all huffy with him again. So maybe she wouldn't tell him to get out of her life completely, since she'd already told him to get out of her rehearsals.

Some husband he was. She'd gone to Bart for help, because Mitchell was the cause of most of her problems.

He sat sideways on the stool next to his father so his glances in Lorenda's direction wouldn't be so obvious. Dylan set drinks in front of them.

"Give us a minute," Joe said to Dylan, who moved to the other end of the long bar to wait on other customers. Joe and his dad, two old buddies who went way back, shot the breeze for a minute.

Mitchell had spent every night in the garage apartment since Lorenda had told him to leave the gym and not come back. Since she'd refused to answer his question about wanting him out of the way.

Which had silently answered his question anyway.

Just a week ago, she'd said she didn't want him to leave, until she'd realized that what he'd tried to warn her about all along was true. His presence in her life wasn't in her best interest.

Not sleeping in her bed where he could pull her against him, the possibility of not having a future with her had turned him into a bear.

Probably not the best time to visit his father and try to make amends with Joe for burning his restaurant down.

His father had wanted to meet at the station, away from the public eye, since Mitchell was supposed to be keeping a low profile. Once the security app showed him where Lorenda had gone, he'd insisted on meeting at Joe's. When it looked like his dad was ready to get down to business, Mitchell muted the cell he'd borrowed from Trevor.

"Thanks for hearing us out, Joe," his dad said.

"We've been friends for a long time, Larry." Joe took off his big cowboy hat and set it on the bar. "If you say we need to talk, then we talk."

"Son, tell Joe where you were the night of the rec-center fire and about your dog tags." It wasn't a request. Mitchell didn't speak. He weighed his options. Anything he said could be used against him. His dad had done it before, so maybe Mitchell should call Angelique over and have this meeting with her present.