Page 107 of Burning Justice

The others walked off, but not too far, and she could tell her entire family was eavesdropping.

“Let me get this straight. You thought you would just show up with good news and all would be forgiven?” Not. Not by a long shot.

He grimaced. “Definitely not that.”

“What, then?” Because she really wanted to get this over with. Whatever this was.

“I brought you something. A peace offering.” He went to the back of the pickup, in the bed of which was a large, rectangular object covered by a blanket. Brett lowered the tailgate, vaulted up, then whipped off the blanket.

Gemma’s jaw dropped. Numbly, she went to the tailgate, still not believing what she was looking at. Covered in shrink wrap and secured in a wood frame was an enormous eyebrow window. Vaguely, she heard the hushed exclamations from her family.

“Wow.”

“Holy shit.”

“That had to have cost a bundle.”

It had. Vividly, she recalled the moment when she’d priced one out, then nearly had a coronary.

She ran her gaze over the stunning, arched window, the expertly crafted frame. “It’s beautiful,” she choked out.

Brett grinned. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“Of course I like it, but-but…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Why had he done something so thoughtful, so monumentally generous? Tears leaked from her eyes. She swiped them away, but they just kept coming.

“Is she crying?” Ben asked in an incredulous tone.

“Nobody’s made her cry in, well, so long I can’t remember,” Chris said. “We might have to take Brett out back and beat him up for that.”

Her mother giggled. Her dad laughed, and her brothers began snickering like a bunch of little boys.

“Well?” Brett watched her intently. “Do you really like it?”

“Like it?” She loved it, but that wasn’t the point. This was an incredibly wonderful gesture, one he clearly hoped would mend fences between them. But no way would she make it that easy on him. He’d hurt her terribly. She needed to be strong, and there were things she had to get off her chest before ever considering forgiving him.

Not that forgiveness was on the table.

Nope. No way, no how.

Not yet, anyway.

She swallowed, wiping away the last of her tears. “Come with me,” she ordered. “We need to talk.”

Without looking back, she stormed into the house.

…

“Somebody’s in trouble.”

“He’s gonna get it.”

“Yup, she’s about to ream him a new one.”

“You guys are hysterical.” And they were right. Brett was about to get his ass reamed out by a five-foot-one powerhouse of a woman.

He hopped out of the pickup. Blaze had abandoned him in favor of Gemma and had followed her inside.

Evan slapped him on the back. “Good luck.”