The tension inside the house had followed Mack and Rosie outside. Even the hens were pissed. When Randy went after Hazel, she squawked and pecked at him until he backed off.

“Should we go back in?” Mack asked Rosie, who was helping the girls feed the goats.

“I think they’ll come out when they’re ready.”

Hop ambled over. “Rosie, I need to drive over to the feed store. You want to ride with me?”

Rosie stiffened. “Come on, girls,” she said. “Let’s go check on some of my seeds.”

“That was obvious,” Mack said when Rosie was out of earshot. “What’d you do?”

Hop sucked his teeth. “She’s been like that with me since I made that crack about the Equal Rights Amendment. She can’t take a joke.”

“Maybe it wasn’t funny.”

“See, that’s the problem these days. No one has a sense of humor anymore. Offended at every damn thing.”

Mack shook his head. “Dude, some shit was always offensive.”

“No one minded in my day.”

“Women did. You just decided their opinions didn’t count.”

Hop rolled his eyes, but there was a notable chink in his armor.

“So how long does that have to go on before you realize that the problem isn’t her lack of a sense of humor but the fact that you need to find some better fucking material?”

Hop pointed with a gnarled knuckle. “Watch your mouth.”

Mack shrugged. “I’m just saying I can help you.”

Hop scoffed. “With what?”

Mack nodded toward the root cellar, where Rosie had disappeared with the girls. “How long have you been in love with her?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hop grumbled.

“You can play dumb all you want, but I know what I know.”

“That ain’t saying much.”

“You can win her over. I can help you.”

Hop curled his lips in like he’d just gotten his first taste of quinoa. “You think I’m going to take romantic advice from a man who can’t admit when he’s lusting after a woman?”

“I’m not lusting after Liv. I barely know her.”

“But you knew exactly who I was talking about.”

Mack sidestepped that one. “We’re talking about you, old man.”

“You’re talking nonsense.”

“You need to learn how to talk to Rosie in a language she’ll understand.”

“I know her language. Cranky.”

Mack knew someone like that too.

Hop wiped his bandana across his forehead. “Maybe the men of your generation talk about this shit, but mine don’t.”

“And how’s that working out for you?”

“How’s it working out for you?”

Mack grinned. “Great so far.”

Hop snorted. “Really? Because that doesn’t look like a woman who’s happy to see you.”

Mack turned around in time to see Liv storming across the grass. She should have looked ridiculous in her rubber farm boots and a frayed oversize sweatshirt that looked like it had done hard time in a lost-and-found bin.

But she didn’t look ridiculous. She looked beautiful.

Like a beautiful storm.

Thundering right toward him.

She stopped with a hard glare. “You told the book club?”

He winced. “That’s sort of what I came to tell you.”

“You should have asked me first.”

Mack held out his hands. “We agreed last night that we’re going to bring Royce down, whatever it takes.”

“That didn’t mean you could run out and tell even more people without my permission. We’re supposed to be partners.”

“The guys can help us, Liv.”

She smacked her palm. “It’s a book club.”

“A book club made up of the most connected, powerful men in Nashville. They can help us.”

A breeze picked up a single curl and draped it across her cheek. He had an insane urge to wrap it around his finger and loop it behind her ear.

“From now on, you don’t do anything without talking to me first,” Liv finally said. “I’m in charge.”

Mack nodded. “You’re in charge.”

Liv nodded, satisfied.

“On one condition,” Mack added.

Liv crossed her arms. “What condition?”

“That you stop doing reckless stuff.”

The look of offense on her face was so genuine it was almost comical. “What have I done that’s reckless?”

“Last night with Royce? We have to be smart about this. If you want to be in charge, fine. But I get veto power over stupid ideas.”

Behind them, Hop snorted again.

“Look, we’ll get everyone together tomorrow, and we can come up with a plan,” Mack offered.

“Fine.” Liv spun around and stormed back to the house. Rosie and the girls emerged from the root cellar, and before going into the house Rosie gave Hop the same look Liv had given Mack.

Mack spoke over his shoulder. “Next Friday. Eight o’clock. The Six Strings Diner.”

“I ain’t going to no self-help bullshit touchy-feely meeting.”

“New guy buys breakfast.”

“Fuck off.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

Liv uttered the realization to herself shortly before three o’clock the next day as she surveyed Rosie’s living room.

“It’s going to be fine,” Mack said. “I promise.”

She wasn’t so sure. Malcolm she totally trusted. He was smart. She’d never met a couple of the other guys but recognized both of them. Derek Wilson owned a construction company or something in the city, and she’d heard both Gavin and Mack talk about him before, so she knew he was cool.

But the Russian? She turned and looked up at Mack, voice low. “I can’t believe you invited him. This house has old pipes.”

Rosie walked in with a tray of cookies and a man Liv didn’t recognize. He wore black-rimmed glasses, a slouchy hipster-style beanie, and a Pokémon T-shirt.

“I found a straggler outside,” Rosie said.

“Who’s that?” Liv whispered.

“Noah.”

“Who’s Noah?”

“Computer expert.”

“The one who found Jessica? You said he didn’t know anything about this!”

Mack held up his hands truce-like. “Okay, I might have lied about that.”

Liv slugged his arm. “That’s for lying to me.”

She slugged him again. He covered his arm and whined. “What was that one for?”

“Just because. Are you sure we can trust him?”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover. I’m pretty sure the IT thing is just a ruse and he’s actually an assassin for the government.”

Liv squinted. “I can’t tell if you’re serious.”

Mack strode forward, hand outstretched. He and Noah did a manly handshake-chest-bump thing. “Thanks for coming, man,” Mack said.

He did a quick round of introductions for Noah’s sake, listing each man’s name and what special skill he apparently brought to the table. The Russian was last.

“He’s here for muscle,” Mack said.

The Russian pounded his fist. “I beat him up.”

Liv waved her hands. “Nope. No beating anyone up.”

The Russian stuck out his lower lip. Rosie rushed over with the cookies to soothe him.

“Don’t feed him any cheese,” Mack said quickly.

Liv looked over. “Like, after midnight, or . . . ?”

“Just whenever.”

Rosie shrugged and moved on to Malcolm. “Can you eat cheese?”

“Yeah, pretty much everyone else here can eat cheese,” Mack answered.

Noah finally greeted Liv. She shook his hand and narrowed her eyes. “Do you kill people?”

He tilted his head. “Not intentionally.”

Mack clapped his hands. “Let’s get started.”

Everyone who didn’t yet have a place to sit jostled for room on one of the two couches. The Russian had already claimed Hop’s recliner, which was going to be a problem if Hop decided to join them. Malcolm ended up sitting on the floor, which was going to be a problem if one of the hens decided to join them.

“Gavin and Del have a home game today, so we’ll have to fill them in later on what we decide.”

“What do you want us to do?” Derek asked, reaching for another cookie. “These are fucking awesome.”

Rosie beamed. Hop strode in then, noticed Rosie smiling at another man, and scowled. Then he noticed the Russian in his chair, and his expression turned murderous. He jerked his thumb in a get the fuck out fashion. The Russian quickly joined Malcolm on the floor.

“You’re late,” Rosie scolded Hop. She gave him a cookie anyway.

“One of the most important things we need to do is find out how many women Royce has done this to,” Liv said. “And we need to figure out how to expose him.”

“Why not just go to the media and tell them what you saw?” Derek asked.

“That would violate my NDA, and I don’t want to give him that ammunition to shut us down,” Liv said. “Besides, reporters need to do their own research, and that could take a long time. I want to go bigger.”

Mack glanced down at her, eyebrows furrowed. “Bigger?”

“I want to confront him with it at his big cookbook launch party.”

“That’s just three weeks away,” Mack said.

“I know.”

“That’s impossible,” he grumbled.

“Why don’t we just kidnap him and make him talk?” Everyone looked at the Russian as soon as he said it. He shrugged. “Happens all the time in Russia.”

Liv shook her head. “No. No kidnapping. Nothing violent.”