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expression softened. “And as much as this hurts you, I have to say it, Mitch. This is the life they’ve created without you.”
    “Ansley, it’s not our business,” Tristan said.
    “Caz and Winter are my business,” she snapped, her eyes filling with tears.
    Tristan gathered the photos and returned them to their respective shelves. Then he pointed at the door. “I think we should go. Brock and Rory wouldn’t appreciate this.”
    “Yes, they would,” Ansley said, dabbing the corners of her eyes. “Wouldn’t they, Mitch?”
    He snorted at that, fully understanding her underlying meaning. “You’re probably right.”
    His gaze went to the king-size bed, and sadness washed over him as he thought of all the nights he’d missed. He considered the mornings, too, as he thought of how it might feel to wake up here in this room, wrapped around Trixie’s body, cradling her in his arms.
    “I’ll give you credit, Ansley. You showed me precisely what Brock and Rory would’ve wanted me to see. Without a doubt, they’d be proud of you. You’ve done your job and served their purpose. I’ll leave.”
    He’d almost made it to his vehicle when the screen door slammed behind him. “Mitch, wait.”
    He stopped and turned around. “What is it?”
    Ansley opened her mouth to speak, made a slight throaty sound, and then pressed her lips together again. They stared at one another for a long time before she finally said, “Okay, look, I don’t know where they are.”
    “So you’ve said.”
    “But…”
    “You have a good idea where they might have gone?”
    “No,” she replied. “I’m out of line here, but I feel like I’m sort of caught in the middle anyway. Trixie thought she was going crazy. She thought you had been here. She could’ve sworn she saw you a few times.”
    “What did she say?” Mitch asked, uncertain why Ansley had chosen to share pertinent information before he left. Did she know something about Trixie’s feelings for him? Did Trixie still care for him? Had she discussed her feelings with Ansley?
    “Damn it.” Ansley stomped her foot. “Okay, here’s the thing, buster, and you didn’t hear this from me. My sister still loves you. I know she still loves you.” Ansley’s gaze ripped through his. “But if you come in here and screw up her life, I’ll hold you personally accountable and make your life a living hell. And I can do it.” She shot Tristan a quick glance. “If you don’t believe me, ask him.”
    “I won’t do that,” Mitch promised, believing Tristan was probably more in control than Ansley might have thought. He stood watch as if he were her lone protector, the only man who could indeed save her.
    He’d met guys like Tristan. He’d gone up against a few. He recognized an Alpha male when he met one.
    Mitch knew something about protecting those he loved and making sacrifices, too. He’d once walked away from Trixie in order to keep her safe. Now, he realized he’d made a mistake.
    “If you talk to her…”
    “I won’t,” Ansley said, seemingly certain. “Like I told you, Brock and Rory took her on a retreat.” She lowered her chin and then her voice. “If anyone talks to Brock, it will likely be Tristan. They’re as thick as thieves.”
    Mitch glanced at Tristan, who then squared his shoulders and set his jaw. Mitch could see where Brock and Tristan were good buddies. They had compatible personalities and probably possessed a mutual respect for one another.
    Mitch took a deep breath. He was barking up the wrong tree there. He’d just have to bide his time. With Jordie Anne gone and nothing left for him in Virginia, he could wait for them.
    “Tristan, if you talk to Brock—”
    “I’ll tell him you were here.”
    “I’m sure you will,” Mitch grumbled. Finally, he added, “You tell him I’m not going anywhere. I won’t stop until I have fifteen minutes alone with Trixie.”
    “I’ll pass it along,” Tristan promised.
    “Take care, Ansley.”