Chapter 67

What?

“No.” Wills jerked his head away. “I never cry.” But tears were spilling down his cheeks.

“Did you hurt him, Tim?” I demanded.

“No, Ah think you did that, Sweetcheeks.”

“Stop calling him that. Look, if you’re gonna punch me, punch me. It’s a long drive to DC, and I—”

Tim’s hand clenched into a fist.

“Don’t you hit him, Tim.” I scrambled to my feet and threw myself between the two men, glaring at Tim over my shoulder. No one hit Wills.

Tim arched an eyebrow. “Ah had a feelin’ you were a trifle over-emphatic about wantin’ this guy out of your life.”

“Shut up.” I pretended to find the blood on my sleeve interesting.

“Here, babe.” Wills handed me a handkerchief, and I mopped up the blood that was still trickling from my nose.

“Are you gonna forgive him?” Tim asked me, kneading his side.

“Forgive me? What for?”

“I thought…” I raised my eyes to his. “I know it’s stupid, but…”