He’s not yelling. He’s not even angry in the way I expect him to be. He’s concerned, and somehow that feels worse.
“I didn’t take anything from her she didn’t offer,” I say. “That first day, she couldn’t lift her arms without leaking through her shirt.”
Caleb studies me, waiting.
My voice drops, rough and low. “I want her, Caleb. Bad. You have no idea what it’s like.”
Caleb exhales, long and slow. “You want her,” he says. “But what about what she wants?”
“She wants me, too.”
“I’m not talking about her body, Wade.”
I fall silent because he’s not wrong . He sees people in ways I miss. Always has.
He steps a little closer, lowering his voice. “She’s tough, but under it all, she’s fragile. She puts up a hard front because she has to, but she’s tired and scared. She needs stability for her boy. And I’m not saying she’s using you, but you have to consider the possibility that she’s letting things happen because she’s trying to secure a place here.”
My jaw clenches. “No.”
Caleb shrugs as his words sting like a splinter under the skin; small but painful and impossible to ignore.
He steps back. “You need to give her space. Make sureit’s what she wants.”
“What about you?” I ask him. “What do you want?”
His cool gray eyes narrow, and for once, I have no idea what my twin is thinking.
***
The moment we walk inside the house, the smell of rich stew, warm bread and herbs hits us, thick and comforting. My stomach growls loud enough that Caleb gives me a look.
Joelle stands at the stove, stirring the pot. Her fair hair is tied back, loose strands falling around her face. Her eyes are still a little puffy, though she’s pretending otherwise. When she sees us, she wipes her hands on a towel and gives a soft smile.
“Hope you’re hungry,” she says.
She looks small somehow. Not weak, just… more vulnerable, like a stiff wind might knock her sideways.
We wash up at the sink. Caleb bumps my shoulder, a quiet reminder not to screw this up.
When we sit, Joelle ladles stew into our bowls. Steam curls up, thick and savory, the kind that makes your whole chest warm before the first bite even hits your tongue.
“What about Eli and Rick?”
“They’ve gone into town,” I say.
I take a spoonful of stew and groan. “Joelle, this is unreal.”
Caleb nods, tearing bread apart like he hasn’t eaten all day. “Best stew I’ve had in a long time.”
Her cheeks pink, her eyes gleam, and damn, it hits me hard. She’s as starved for appreciation as me and my brother.
She clears dishes as we eat, moving around the kitchen with soft, careful grace, and all the while, Caleb’s wordsecho in the back of my mind.
Does she want me, or does she want the safety a place on this ranch will offer?
Did she let me touch her because she needed the relief and a place for her son, or because she wanted me?
I take another bite, slower this time, watching the way she pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
