She laughed then hugged him. “You’re a funny guy.”

“Not everyone thinks so.”

“Then they don’t know you well enough.”

He didn’t think that was Destiny’s problem.

Shelby studied him. “Want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Then why are you still living here instead of with Destiny?”

She had him on that one. “It’s complicated. She’s...” Not mad, he thought. Disappointed? Hurt? “Upset.”

“Did you try to fix things too much? You do that, Kipling. You mean well, but sometimes people want to be more than a project.”

“I don’t see people as projects.”

She raised her eyebrows as her hands returned to her hips.

He sighed. “Sometimes I do,” he admitted.

“Enough that it’s hard for the rest of us to be sure where we stand and if we matter. You’re my brother, and I don’t always know if you’re excited about helping me or taking care of the problem.”

Was that what had gone wrong with Destiny? He hadn’t made it clear he cared about her and the baby?

“Doesn’t what I do matter more than what I say?”

“Not always.” Shelby hugged him. “You’re a really good guy. If Destiny isn’t seeing that right now, then give her a little time. You’re not wrong to care.”

“Thanks.” Although he knew he had to be wrong about something because Destiny didn’t want to stay married to him. “You doing okay?”

“I am. I had a brief but horrible relationship with Miles, and I’m now officially over him.”

“What? Miles the pilot? He’s a player.” And soon to be dead, Kipling thought grimly.

“Yes, I see that now.” Shelby shook her head. “Don’t go there. Don’t take on my problem. I bought into his charm, and I learned a good lesson. I’ll recover.”

“You’re my sister.”

“Thanks for the clarification.” She wrinkled her nose. “I mean it, Kipling. I have to figure this out on my own. Don’t mess in my personal life, okay?”

He nodded slowly. “Sure. Come to me for money but not advice.”

She flashed him a smile. “Exactly.”

* * *

NOT SURE WHAT TO DO with himself, Kipling walked through town. Just his luck, no one was getting lost on a very busy holiday weekend.

Tourists mingled with locals. The smell of barbecue mingled with the scent of lemons and fresh churros. He nodded at people he knew, stepped out of the way of unsteady toddlers and rescued a balloon that nearly got away.

All of which should have made him feel better. Connected, maybe. But it didn’t, and he wasn’t.

He missed Destiny. Without her, he couldn’t seem to think straight. Or sleep. Or know what was going on. He could have gone to see her. He knew that she and Cassidy were out mapping the last parts of the mountain. He could have joined them. But then what?

He crossed the street and headed for the park. Live music played. Music that made him think of Destiny performing at The Man Cave and how she’d lost herself in song.

She was amazing, he thought. Powerful and talented. Beautiful. She’d claimed to love him and then told him she wanted a divorce. What was he supposed to do with that?

The truth was, he wanted her back. He missed her and—

He turned at the sound of teenage boys laughing and saw Carter standing with his friends. The second Kipling spotted him, he knew what he had to do.

He walked toward the teen. Carter saw him approaching and straightened. While the festival spun on around them, Kipling felt the afternoon grow quiet—at least in his head.

“Hey,” he said, when he was in front of Carter. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I don’t approve of you kissing Starr, but I get why it happened. Mills women are tough to resist.” He raised one shoulder. “Yelling at you wasn’t my finest hour.”

Carter grinned. “It’s okay. Felicia explained about the protective instincts of the alpha male in the clan.” The teen chuckled. “Which might not make sense to you, but it’s kind of how she talks. She’s supersmart. Anyway, she’s right. Starr’s almost like your daughter. You have to be protective. I’m glad she has someone looking out for her, you know. Because it wasn’t always like that.”

Kipling stared at the kid. “You’re not a jerk.”

“Thanks, man. Neither are you.”

Kipling shook his head. “No. I mean you’re a good kid.”

“Always have been. Does this mean I can—”

“No,” Kipling told him firmly. “My protective instincts remain intact. But I now have more respect for Starr’s selection process.”

“I think that’s a compliment, so thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Carter turned back to his friends. Kipling looked around and tried to figure out what he should do next. Suddenly, a tall, brown-haired woman stepped in front of him.

“I hear you’ve been looking for me.”

She was close to forty, fit, with just enough attitude to make a guy think she knew how to take care of herself.

Kipling had no idea who she was.

“Ma’am?”

The woman raised her eyebrows. “Not a very good way to start, Kipling. I’ve heard you’re charming. Don’t disappoint me.”