Page 82 of Jensen

Thememory of Kayleigh holding Landis is still painful, and it makes me bold.

“You mean you’re still sleeping with her,” I push.

He tongues the inside of his cheek. “On occasion.”

“Can you give her a message from me?”

The door swings back open, and Jensen sinks down beside me. “Don’t make deals with him, Della,” he says. “You can’t trust him to tell you the truth.”

Brothers’ sharp eyes dart between us. “And you trust Jensen to be truthful?”

I don’t have an answer for that, because yes, I do, but I don’t really know why I trust him more than any man I’ve met. Jensen zeroes in on Brothers, who offers him a paternal smile in return. Then, his focus shifts back to me.

“What would you like to tell Kayleigh?” he says, voice soft.

I open my mouth, but everything feels weak in comparison to how my heart is breaking. It’s not enough to know she’s protecting my son. I need to wrap him in my arms, press kisses to his round face. He is the biggest part of my heart, and it’s torture being apart from him

My throat goes tight. A tear slips out, traveling to my chin.

“Shit,” says Brothers, setting his napkin on the table.

“I’m fine,” I gasp. “Just tell her I miss them both. And thank her for watching over him while I’ve been gone.”

Beneath the table, a warm, strong hand slides over my bare thigh and holds it. I glance sideways, and Jensen flashes a look that warns me to be careful. I understand he wants me to keep Brothers at arm’s length, but God, it’s so hard when he’s the only connection I have to my son.

“I will,” says Brothers.

The dining room is so silent, I can hear a fly buzzing in the window.

“Would you like to see the colts?” Brothers says, standing abruptly. “I have them in the front barn, just a few yards from the back porch. They might lift your spirits.”

I glance at Jensen, who doesn’t move.

“Jen, we need to talk,” Brothers says.

“Alright,” Jensen says, rising. “But only if I can keep my eyes on Della.”

Brothers dips his head, crossing the room on his long legs and pushing open the side door. Through it, I can make out a wraparound porch and black wood barn. In the pen off the side are two dark bay, wobbly-legged colts. I know they’re trying to get rid of me so they can talk, but I don’t care. Brothers was right; it might help me to step out for a second.

I get up, moving past Brothers and heading straight for the barn. The morning dew has dried off the bluegrass. It’s starting to brown early this year from the heat, and it crunches under my boots as I lean on the fence, holding my hand out flat.

Behind me, Jensen and Brothers stand on the porch, watching me without speaking.

I feel like a bug under a microscope.

Jensen is still guarded, but he’s different since Brothers mentioned Jem. The weight of their history sits over them like a cloud. I’m deeply entangled in this whole situation, but when it comes to the emotional side, it’s clear to me I’m on the outside looking in.

There was a lot said at that lunch table between them without a word spoken. I’m third wheeling it hard out here.

One of the colts brushes its velvet nose on my palm. I keep them visible from the corner of my eye. Leland taught me to read men, to understand their body language to survive. I’m doing my best, but they are a couple of guarded motherfuckers.

Brothers takes out a pack of cigarettes. They both have one. The faint smokey scent reaches my nose. Now, they’re talking, mirroring each other’s movements. Usually, that’s a negotiation tactic, but not with them. No, this feels more natural, like they’re just…used to being around each other like that.

Jensen says something that makes Brothers frown slightly. He shakes his head, waving a hand as he replies. They both inhale.Brothers is a repeat offender when it comes to nicotine—he inhales and really basks in it. Jensen breathes in, but only about half the time, telling me it’s muscle memory, not an addiction.

Then, to my shock, they both laugh. Jensen sobers quickly, like he didn’t mean to, but I saw that.

I turn back to the colt, trying to make sense of it all. Jensen speaks of Brothers like he’s a striking snake.Handle with extreme care. But I never got that feeling from him. In fact, for someone who barely remembers their father, I felt strangely close to him in a way I’d only fantasized about.