“Oaks.”
Oaks, checking the tree line near the driveway, lifts one hand without turning around. “You’re welcome.”
Amelia points at him. “I’m not thanking you for that.”
Oaks grins over his shoulder. “Yet.”
Sophie sighs. “This family was raised by wolves and bad bourbon.”
“Pretty much,” I say.
Amelia looks from Widowmaker to August.
There it is again. Guilt. The kind that sits behind her eyes every time she remembers she is about to leave her kid for an hour or two. August is safe. Hell, he is safer than most children in Kentucky right now with Sophie, Lottie, Brittany,two prospects, Oaks, and Wildcat in orbit. Still, Amelia looks like stepping off the porch without him is abandonment.
Sophie steps closer. “He is staying here with me. Lottie is making chicken strips. Brittany found dinosaur sheets. Wildcat is fixing your truck. Oaks is outside. Legend has men on the road. I promise you, August won’t be alone for one minute.”
August waves Blue Rex. “We’re making a fort.”
“With blankets,” Sophie says. “Not weapons.”
Oaks mutters, “Shame.”
Sophie points at him. “Don’t.”
Amelia laughs under her breath.
That laugh.
I’m starting to wait for it like a damn fool.
She kneels in front of August, smoothing his hair even though it doesn’t need smoothing. “I’m going out for a little while, okay?”
“With Derby?”
“Yes.”
“On Widowmaker?”
Her face twists. “Unfortunately.”
“Can I hear it later?”
“We’ll see.”
August’s eyes narrow. “That means probably no.”
Derby, don’t get involved.
I get involved.
“She means yes if you eat dinner and do what Sophie says.”
Amelia turns her head slowly. “Do I?”
“You do now.”
She glares.