Jorge grabbed her hand. “Aunt Paige found the coolest puzzle for us to work on. Come see.”
Noah dragged Gideon inside to look. The puzzle was of Big Ben in London, and they’d already finished putting together the outside pieces.
“I need to get some Lego kits,” Paige said. “But for now, this was all I had.”
“They love it,” Rosie told her. And then to Jorge, “You two have done a really great job with this puzzle. I’m so impressed.”
“Got a minute?” Gideon said to Evan.
“Sure.” Evan led them back into the living room, leaving the boys in the dining room with the puzzle. “How’d it go?”
Rosie paced as she gave them the rundown on Findley’s thinly veiled threats.
“I was expecting something like this.” Evan shook his head gravely, settling his glasses more firmly on his face. “I’ve got the rest of the guys prepped. I know it’s already been a long day and evening for you both, but we’d like to have a meeting ASAP to figure out the best way to
handle this creep.”
“I’m more than happy to play with the boys while you go meet with the other Mavericks,” Paige offered. “And if there’s anything else I can do to help, please let me know. I made sandwiches for them a little earlier.”
“Thank you.” Rosie’s eyes welled up with her emotions, her fears, her gratitude. “I don’t know what to say other than thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
“You’re one of us, Rosie.” Evan gave her the gentlest of smiles. “The Mavericks take care of their own.”
She’d been to their barbecues, their pool parties, their holidays, their homes. But she’d never dared to call herself one of them. She was Ari’s friend, that was all.
What she hadn’t counted on was how big their hearts were.
With Gideon’s being the biggest of all.
“Thank you,” she said, her appreciation heartfelt. “Let me just say good-bye to the kids and tell them I’ll be back soon.” She didn’t like leaving Jorge again when she’d only just returned. But there was no choice. She had to talk with the Mavericks, had to find a way to stop Archie. “Boys,” she called.
“Is it time to go?” There was something almost anxious in Jorge’s voice as he scrambled off his chair and raced toward her, Noah close on his heels.
Then somehow, Jorge’s feet got tangled—whether it was his shoelace or Noah’s foot, she couldn’t tell—and he went down with a thunk.
He was a tough little guy and usually he bounced right up as if he’d never fallen. But this time Jorge started to cry. Rosie was there in a moment to grab him up in her arms. “You’re fine, sweetheart.” She ran her hands over his legs, then stood him up on his own. “See? Nothing broken. You’re fine, everything’s okay.” She kissed his tear-streaked face. “I’m going to go out for a little while, then we’ll get you home for a story and bed, okay? I know it’s been a really long day.”
She said the words as much for Gideon and Noah, who stood beside them, as she did for Jorge. As though she needed to calm them all, ease their tension.
But Jorge clung to her, his voice rumbly with tears. And he had never been a clingy child. “Why do you have to go? Why can’t I come with you?”
“I won’t be long, I promise.” She stood, smoothing her hands through his dark, curly hair.
But Jorge’s tears didn’t stop. He held on tight, his arms around her legs. And Rosie realized it was all too much for him. He was an intuitive child, and he felt all the undertones roiling in the room, sensed her fear, her agitation. He knew something was wrong, and in his little-boy world, he was terrified. She stroked his hair, murmured soothing, comforting sounds, but his body still shook.
She couldn’t leave him like this. She just couldn’t. As much as she needed to conquer Archie, her little boy’s needs in this moment were more important.
She looked at Gideon, putting everything she felt into her gaze. “I need to stay.”
“I’ll go,” he said, understanding perfectly. “You don’t need to worry. Take care of Jorge. He needs you right now.”
She wanted to throw her arms around Gideon, but all she could do was mouth, Thank you.
Then Gideon did the most wonderful thing. He wrapped his arm around Rosie’s neck, hauled her in, his hand on Jorge’s head. “I will fix this,” he whispered into her hair. “I promise.”
She had no doubt that he would. She’d never had any doubts about Gideon. He was strong, he was loyal, he was caring.
And he would protect Jorge the way her son’s own biological father had never cared enough to do.