Godfrey didn’t do fights. He negotiated. Because negotiating was much more likely to get him what he wanted than fighting. But there was a point where even Godfrey drew a line. And ruining his business, which he had spent the past six years building up, he was not about to do.

Not even for Mack.

“What?”

“I said you can’t go. Not just like that. And certainly not tonight!” That was just ridiculous.

“Say that again,” she dared, staring right into his eyes. “I am going, Godfrey. You know how bad I have been waiting for this.”

“I know we talked about you going back to work some day,” God said levelly. “But now is not the best time. In fact it’s a bloody terrible time.”

“It’s not like I’m staying there for a weeks upon weeks. I’ll do it like last time.”

“You seem to be overlooking one small difference between now and last time, Love.” He jiggled Thomas in his arms and nodded toward him. “This little difference right here. Our son.” He sighed and tried to keep his tone neutral.

“Look, I can’t afford to take time off right now. I barely have enough coming in to pay the bills as it is, let alone clearing the debt we built up while you were out of circulation with Thomas. If I put the business on the back burner for so much as a week, I’m going under. It’s as simple as that. And I’m not going to let that happen, Mack. I’ve put too much into it. You can’t go running off to dig up treasures —which somebody else gets to keep, by the way — and expect me to look after Thomas and Chrissa. I can’t. I won’t.”

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Not Getting Any Younger