Hometown Love (Love on the North Shore #2)(25)

With the group conference done, Mack turned back to his computer. Five-thirty. Christ, that was early. While he enjoyed the excitement and sense of the fulfillment that went along with an arrest like this, he hated the early hours planned arrests were scheduled for. While he understood the reasoning behind it, the older he got, the earlier five-thirty seemed. Of course, it didn’t help that most times he got little sleep before a big operation like this. He didn’t know how it was for others involved, but for him, the night before a take-down like this anticipation combined with adrenaline overwhelmed his body and kept him on high alert until the suspects were apprehended. Then, once at home, it’d drain out of him faster than a balloon losing helium. The energy up-and-downs he experienced before and after an arrest had driven Bethany crazy and had been something they’d argued about a lot before their separation.

“Jesus, I hope I wasn’t that bad my first time as agent in charge,” Dakota said when Bruce left the area.

“You were worse, Smith,” Oliver called out from his desk.

“At least I remember my first time, old man,” Dakota came back with. At forty-eight, Oliver was the oldest agent on the squad, though to look at him, you’d never know it, which partially explained how he’d landed himself a wife thirteen years younger than him.

Mack listened as Oliver and Dakota tossed insults at each other, something that occurred all the time among the squad members. While outsiders might see it and assume no one got along, the opposite was true. Especially between Oliver and Dakota, who often worked as partners.

“You guys can bullshit all you want, but I’m out of here.” Mack turned off his computer and locked his desk drawer. “See you both on Monday.”

The calendar said summer didn’t end for several more weeks, but Mack noticed a few orange and red leaves on his way home that night. He’d already noticed there was a little less daylight each day when he left work, but the colorful leaves drove home the fact that fall was just around the corner. Not that he minded. Fall was one of his favorite times of year. In a few weeks, he and Grace would go apple picking, something they had been doing since she could walk. Before the divorce, Bethany would sometimes come with them. This year, it would be him and Grace and maybe his niece. Grace had already asked if they could bring Brianna with them, but he kept forgetting to ask his sister. They would also need to buy a Halloween costume soon. He’d already seen some at the mall when he stopped for lunch earlier that week. He knew from past experience, though, it was best to wait as long as possible. Grace had a tendency to change her mind five or six times before Halloween ever arrived.


While he’d rather get off the highway and take the back roads home, he’d promised Jessie he’d get home as early as possible when they spoke Thursday night. If traffic remained light, the highway was a shorter route.

As expected, she told him not to worry, but still, he was eager to get home. Thanks to his long hours, he already didn’t get to spend as much time with his daughter as he’d like. Then there were the weekends when she went with her mother—like next week—and he saw her even less.

The eagerness inside him now, though, stemmed from more than just spending time with Grace. The thought of seeing Jessie again contributed to it. Ever since they’d painted and had dinner together, she had been popping up in his thoughts.

He’d enjoyed their conversations. They’d been easy-going and open. They both contributed, unlike the conversations he and his ex-wife had. Maybe that should have been a clue that their relationship wasn’t going to work, but he’d never noticed back then. Only after the separation had he noticed how Bethany needed to dominate their conversations. How she need conversations focused on her thoughts and desires. If he’d paid closer attention, perhaps he would’ve saved himself a lot of headaches. Then again, if not for his marriage, he wouldn’t have Grace.

Thanks to the light traffic—an unusual occurrence for a Friday night—Mack pulled into his garage forty minutes after leaving the office. Opening the door into the kitchen, the smell of peanut butter greeted him, but all the lights remained off.

“Grace?” he called out as he stopped by the counter where two trays of cookies sat, and he grabbed a few.

“Were outside, Mack,” Jessie answered.

Mack bit into a cookie and turned toward the French doors that led onto the deck.

“Daddy.” Grace smiled at him when he came outside but remained seated.

Dropping a kiss on his daughter’s head, he surveyed the project before him. Newspaper covered the table and several paper cups sat in a line, each filled with a different color of paint. Off to one side sat a painted birdhouse, and judging by how neat it looked, he guessed Jessie had done it. In front of Grace sat another wooden birdhouse, but this one still needed its roof painted.

“I love the bird houses,” he said as he watched Grace finish one side.

Grace stopped, and she looked at him. “They’re fairy houses, Daddy.” Then before he answered, she went back to work.

Mack looked over at Jessie who tried not to laugh. “Right. Fairy houses. I should have known that.” He pulled out an empty chair near his daughter. “Did you make these delicious cookies, Grace?”

His daughter looked up long enough to answer. “Jessie helped me.”

“I hope you don’t mind. I brought the ingredients with me from home.”