Nick stares him down until he’s in his car and driving away. “I think that’s the end of it,” I say, turning toward him. “Which is a good thing. You’ve got to be sick of getting in fights on my behalf.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close. “I will very happily fight for you and our family until my dying breath,” he replies, his mouth near my ear. “And if our daughters are anything like you, I’m guessing I’d better plan on it.”
