Marley sits on the lounger next to my feet, she smells like baby powder and spit-up, and there’s a dried stain on the shoulder of her shirt.
Her eyes connect to mine, the same blue of my dad’s eyes looks at me with all the love in the world. “If Dad smells that, he’s gonna be pissed.”
The ache in my heart is just strong enough that I chanced Dad smelling the weed, not caring if he got angry. “I know, I finished the butt. I won’t bring it outside again.”
“Something is bothering you, and I think it has something to do with the commanding FBI guy who is suspiciously absent.”
I shrug my shoulder and wave my hand toward the front of the ranch where the driveway is. “Why do we need him when we have the infallible protection of a most likely, lower-ranked agent, who is oh-so-happy to sit in a car all day in ninety-five degree heat at the end of our driveway? There is no bad guy in the world who would dare cross that glowing beacon of protection.”
Her eyebrows lift, and she smiles as she points at me. “I knew it had something to do with him. Spill.”
Leaning back, I let my head rest on the lounger, I look across the narrow stream at the never-ending sea of green trees and take a deep breath. “Nothing to tell, really. I let myself see something that wasn’t really there, and I just have to come to terms with the fact that he’s no different.”
“Ouch.” She sets her palm on my shin. Marley is one of the gentlest people I know. “So, he really pissed you off, huh?”
With a sigh, I say, “I’m more pissed at myself for hoping than anything. He was just being himself.”
She clears herthroat. “Did you and he…?”
Marley is reserved, the opposite of me. I can’t help my teasing smile that forms from her question. “Did we what? Do the deed? Knock boots? Roll in the hay? Get jiggy with it? Go to pound town?” I cock my brow at her.
She smacks my shin with her hand and laughs. “God, you’re so crude. Yes.”
I laugh and nudge her leg with my toe. “No, we didn’t. But he for sure knows his way around a woman’s body, I had one hell of an orgasm on his hand while standing in his kitchen.”
Her eyes flare. “Then why are you here?”
“Because he was about to tell me he needed to back off to put his job first.”
Disappointment crosses her eyes, and she shrugs one shoulder with a sympathetic wince. “A good work ethic is an admirable quality in a man.”
I point my finger at her face. “There! I saw that flash of disappointment. That reaction right there is exactly why I left.” Dropping my hand to my lap, I sigh and look at the trees again. “Do you remember when Mom was alive and Dad was always hugging her and kissing her? She sent me to the barn more than once to ‘go get my father’ so he could help her with something, and no matter what, he would drop what he was doing to see what she needed. He always put her first.”
Marley is smiling as she listens to me talk about our mom. She died after she gave birth to our younger sister, Breanna. She had a quiet infection that spread through her body for a week after she got home from the hospital. It was too late by the time they took her back.
Marley’s eyes take on a dreamy look. “I used to walk in on them dancing in the kitchen in the evenings. They would look into each other’s eyes like the rest of the world didn’t exist. She was the center of his world.”
“Does Jax make you feel like that?”
She smiles again. “Yeah, he does.”
Looking down at the journal sitting on my legs in front of me, I try to push away my hurt feelings. “I won’t be benched until a more convenient time comes along for me to be put into play.”
She laughs. “It’s not baseball, Kinley.”
“No, it’s not, but I refuse to be made to feel like I’m part of a game or strategy. I want what Mom and Dad had. I want what you and Sloan and Elly have. I want to be everything to someone, too.”
“Kinley!” Hallie yells from the corner of the garden, and we both turn to look across the short yard at her.
She waves her arm in a ‘come here’ motion. Hallie has been our live-in help for Sloane for the past two years. She also helps Marley with her rehab horses for an hour or so every day.
When we walk across the grass and are a few yards away from her, she says, “There’s a guy from the FBI here to see you.”
My heart leaps in my chest, the feeling of relief washing over me, but it pisses me off that I feel so happy to hear those words. I turn to look at Marley, who is smiling, but she rolls her lips together to smother it when she sees my face. She loops her arm through mine with sisterly affection and support, and we walk side by side to the house.
I get increasingly nervous the closer I get to the front foyer, but when I see who is standing there, my heart free-falls into my stomach.
A man with dark blond over-styled hair, dressed in a long-sleeve henley shirt, and looking like he likes himself a little too much, is standing in the foyer with his hands in his jeans pockets. He looks familiar, I think I saw him the night that man got killed.
