God, this summer sure is gorgeous. I can’t get enough of the sunshine. I know Cate and Jack chafe under the humidity, but I love it. I’ve always loved it. The more light, the better, as far as I’m concerned.

We spent the last week clearing out Sully’s old patio together. It was the one place that he’d just genuinely never seemed all that interested in, back in the day. Or maybe, now that I think of it, he knew it was one of the places we loved, and left it for us. Cate, Jack and I used to treat it like our own personal jungle, weaving in and out of the overgrown plants and grass. Hours of imaginative play, or just a place to get away.

Of all the work we’ve done on the house so far, though, this might have been the roughest part of all. Not that it took us very long to clear out all of the old plants and clean up the leftover junk, but as we did, it became rapidly apparent that we were gonna have to sink a whole hell of a lot of cash into this venture. By the time that phase was done, we were left with just a big drab square of cracked cement.

At least, that’s all I could see.

Cate, of course, saw what it could be with her designer’s eye, and funding it? Well, Jack really came through. Boy, did he ever. We were able to get the cement redone in no time flat, and even got to add a platform area in the back. We surrounded it with very tasteful polished oak planters; Cate’s idea. On top of that, Jack and I decided that we would build our very own brick barbecue together, something the two of us can do over beers.

Now, it still needs a whole lot of work and a whole lot of love, but I think we’re all willing to put both into it. For now, I’m just happy to have ourselves an outdoor space for summer. We added some nice patio furniture, and it’s become one of our favorite places to spend time together on nice days like this.

“Hey Dylan, where’s that pizza?” Jack shouts at me.

I laugh. “It’s coming, just hang on like two more seconds, okay?”

“I dunno. I’m an impatient man,” he teases, throwing me a sexy wink.

“Oh, you’ll get what you need,” I promise, loving that he’s okay with this kind of playful banter now.

“Hey, lovely,” Cate calls out to me. “If you need a hand, let me know, otherwise I’m gonna mix us up another round of sangria.”

Sangria sounds perfect right now. I slice up the homemade pizza on the stove, eager to get out there and join them, and then I hear the knock at the door.

Strange. We have a doorbell; only the delivery driver knocks, and it’s Saturday.

“Want me to get it?”

That was Cate, but I’m closer. And I don’t want to interrupt the important work she’s doing. We definitely need those sangrias.

“No worries, it’ll just be a sec,” I call back to her, smiling. I wipe off my hands and dab at the sweat on my brow, throwing the towel over my shoulder as I walk for the door.

Before I can get there, it opens.

“Excuse me,” I say, taken aback. “This is a private residence.”

“Well, you certainly took long enough to open the door.”

It’s the voice that clicks, and I finally recognize this woman. It’s Julianne MacMillan, Cate’s mother.

“Oh, hello there,” I say, going for a smile again. I know Cate isn’t particularly fond of her mother, but I’m not going to be the one to add to the pressure. I can be pleasant to her. “It’s Dylan, Ms. MacMillan.”

I hold out my hand, and she stares at it like I’m offering her a strange and interesting bug. Then she stares up at my face. It takes her a moment before I see the clouds part. Recognition.

“Oh, right. Dylan Smith, is it? You’re the chef’s boy, right?”

“That’s right.” That’s how she’d known me, I guess.

“Did Cate hire you to cook for her?” she asks.

I almost sputter, but do my best not to laugh. “I beg your pardon?”

“You know.” She leans in conspiratorially. “Diet food and all.”

I cross my arms, my good humor fading. It’s amazing Cate has turned out as phenomenal as she is, with this woman as her mother.

“Let me just take you to your daughter,” I tell her, reminding myself this isn’t my fight.

But I’m damn sure going to jump in if needed.

“Yes, do lead the way,” Ms. MacMillan says dismissively, as if speaking to a servant.

I turn around and roll my eyes when I’m certain she can’t see, but lead her through to the back of the house. I’m sure Cate isn’t expecting her.

“My God,” the woman says behind me, and I tense at the utter cattiness in her voice. “Just look at this place. It’s even uglier than I remember it. I assume Cate’s behind all of… this?”

I see her flap her hand out of the corner of my eye, a gesture encompassing the entire interior of the townhouse, and I have to grit my teeth to hold in the comeback that springs to mind. Normally, I like to pride myself on being calm and easygoing, but this woman is making it a challenge and a half.

“Excuse me,” she says sharply. “I’m talking to you. What did you say your name was again? Smith?”

“Yes, Ms. MacMillan,” I respond tightly, opening the sliding door onto the patio.

Jack and Cate both look in our direction, snapped out of their conversation at the sight of Cate’s mother, and I wish I could have sent them some sort of psychic warning.

“Right,” Ms. MacMillan says, brushing past me. “Smith. Such a common name. So… forgettable.”

“Mother,” Cate says, her eyes narrowing.

Cate’s expression has me smiling a little, despite her mother’s utter bitchiness. Not that I care what she thinks of my “common” name. That kind of thing has never meant much to me. But I really don’t like the thought that her dismissive, condescending attitude toward me might hurt Cate.

Cate’s definitely looking less put out than I’d have thought, though, and the shine in her eyes combined with the pitcher of sangria on the table make me think that she might be just a tiny bit buzzed.

Good for her.

Lord knows it will help dealing with this old bat.

“There you are, darling,” Cate’s mother says, swooping toward her, the flamboyancy of her greeting doing nothing to make up for the insincerity of its tone. Cate flinches just a little, and the sight immediately raises my hackles.

“Cate, are you sure this is okay?” I ask, frowning.

“It’s fine, Dylan,” Cate responds, sitting up straighter and waving me over. “Come and sit. I’m sure this won’t take long.”

I look between Cate, Jack, and Ms. MacMillan. Yeah. I doubt this will end well. Regardless, I honor Cate’s request and move over to the patio table, taking my seat between her and Jack. I’m happy to offer her my support in whatever way she wants it.

Cate’s mother eyes Jack and me with a sour look on her face. “So, you’re eating with the help now, I see, dear.”

Our Cate tenses a little, but replies calmly enough, “Dylan and Jack are my friends, Mother.”

Jack and I exchange looks, and it’s an unspoken agreement: If this woman does anything to hurt Cate, we’re hauling her out of here in a heartbeat.

Ms. MacMillan gives a delicate snort. “The cook and the errand boy, right. I shouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

“Jesus, Mother, what the hell is the matter with you?” Cate bursts out, an angry flush creeping onto her cheeks. “Did you come all the way to Boston to show up unannounced just to lecture me? Belittle me? In my own home?”

“Your home? I beg your pardon, but this is only your home because no one would take this ratty old place off your hands in a million years.” Ms. MacMillan gestures back toward the house. “Those colors… positively garish, and your drapes make the place look like filth. Like a common whore’s boudoir.”

I open my mouth, my blood beginning to boil, but Jack cuts in first.

“Hey, now,” he says sharply, coming half out of his chair.

“Don’t you dare interrupt me, young man,” Cate’s mother says sharply, cutting into Jack with her verbal razor.

I don’t know if it’s just ingrained respect for the fact that she’s Sully’s daughter, or what, but Jack backs down, jaw clenched tightly. I can see his muscles tensing up, too, and his fist clenching and unclenching.

I love this man; I’m so happy that he and I are on the same page right now.

If she tries to go too far, that’s it.

“And you, Cate, just look at yourself,” Ms. MacMillan continues, shaking her head as she dismisses Jack completely and turns right back on Cate. “The Smith boy must be feeding you the same garbage that comes from his old neighborhood, wherever it was he lived before your grandfather took his mother in.”

Jack almost comes out of his chair again, but I put a hand on his arm as Cate’s shoulders stiffen. Ms. MacMillan’s insults to me and my mother roll right off me for my own sake. Her opinion means less than nothing to me. Besides, I can see that Cate needs to face this demon.

We’ve got her back, but it’s her fight.

“Mother,” she says after a couple of deep breaths, sounding almost bored. “Is that all you’ve come to say?”

I smile on the inside. Good for her. My own mother is wonderful, and it’s hard to imagine what growing up must have been like for either her or Jack when it comes to having such awful family. I don’t know what I’d do if my mother ever talked to me the way Cate’s mother talks to her—it would never happen—but Cate’s handling it well so far.

Not losing her cool.

Not yet, anyway.

Ms. MacMillan is on a roll, though. “You just keep gaining weight, Cate. Keep letting yourself go, and you’re only getting older, you know. It’s a miracle you haven’t had a heart attack from all those gym classes you teach. Although maybe it’d be just as well; who in their right mind would date someone who looks like you do?”

What?

Who says that kind of thing to their own flesh and blood? To anyone? That’s it for me. I’m on my feet at the same time as Jack, who looks as angry as I feel, face like a storm cloud and muscles rippling through his shirt as he clenches those brawler fists again.

“I don’t think so, lady—” I start.

“That’s about enough of that shit,” from Jack.

“Boys,” Cate says, her calm tone cutting us both off mid-rant.

Jack and I both freeze, because really, we’d do anything for her. Anything to protect her from harm, verbal or otherwise. The three of us, always united, always having each other’s backs.

“It’s okay,” she says to us, and I can see by her smile that it really is. “Sit down, please. I’ll take care of my mother.”

She rises from her chair and faces Julianne, and as riled up as I am, I can’t help but think how sexy it is, watching her come into her own. She knows she’s the queen of this domain, and even though I’m still outraged at her mother’s over-the-top harshness, I can’t help but grin.

I’m pretty sure Julianne MacMillan is about to be set in her place.