I scowled over my shoulder. The air was thick with disgruntled unease. “The sooner she’s not too stupid to be around the horses, the better.”
“She can come with me tomorrow, I’m going to start clearing stuff from the barn ready for the upgrade.” He crouched down and Dorcas, that little golden menace, rolled onto her back like butter wouldn’t melt, paws in the air, belly up, tongue lolling in joy. “She’ll be good. Lily and Bertie just worry too much about her.”
I watched as Nash rubbed her belly with practiced ease. Dorcas whined in delight, tail thumping against the wood floor like a slow drumbeat.
She was going to be massive. Her paws were already huge. A walking tornado of mischief and joy. Too smart for her own good since she’d figured out how to break free from the house almost every day.
“What’s with the pissy mood, anyway?” Nash asked, still kneeling, one brow raised.
“Who says I’m in a pissy mood?”
He stood up, full height casting a long shadow across the porch. “The way you threw that hammer into the box. “He tapped his cheek. “And the frown lines. And the pulse thing you get in your left cheek. That one’s always a tell.”
I flipped the lid of the toolbox closed with a metallic snap. Didn’t meet his eyes. Didn’t need to. I knew what he’d look like, calm, patient, annoyingly perceptive.
Nash had that look like he could see through skin to bone. He didn’tpoke. He waited. Brooded. Let silence do the work.
And it was doing it now. The back porch felt cavernous. Like the walls were pressing in, waiting for me to talk.
“I know you, little brother,” he said finally. His voice was lower now, steady. “I know that look. Even if we don’t get to see it often.”
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His stare was unflinching, but not unkind.
“Seriously, I’m fine.” The lie tasted sour. “Could’ve done without chasing the Great Houdini.”
“And I call bullshit.” His voice carried a quiet warning. “It takes more than the dog escaping to set you off. You’re the same guy who shrugged when Billy took a shit in your new sneakers.”
“They’re just sneakers. And they came out fine after Lily put them in the washer.”
He grinned. “Still. My point stands.”
I tried to deflect. “Besides, Billy was only doing what you’ve been begging him to do, go potty, not drop grenades in his diaper.”
Nash exhaled a short laugh, but didn’t drop it. He crossed the floor, his boots a slow, deliberate rhythm against the wood.
“So what?” he pushed. “You just got out of the wrong side of the bed?”
I didn’t answer.
“Whose bed was it?” He tilted his head.
The silence throbbed.
My hand pressed against my sternum, fingers digging into the fabric of my shirt. I couldn't seem to pull in a full breath, like someone had wrapped wire around my ribs and kept twisting. “My own bed, if you must know,” I said finally.
He didn’t smirk. Didn’t poke.
I could feel him watching me, pulling the truth out like a splinter.
“Would this pissy mood have anything to do,” he asked carefully, “with the hideous fucking car parked outside?”
The breath left me like a gut punch. My heart jolted against my ribs, and heat bloomed in my chest, bitter and alive.
My fingers curled into fists. I rubbed at my chest, the spot that alwaysached when emotions got too loud.
“Tally’s husband, apparently.”
Nash let out a laugh, low and deep one of those that rolled through his body. “Well, damn. My wife. She was fucking right again.”
