Getting out, he ran a hand over his hair, realizing he’d forgotten to brush it. Blowing into his hand, he sniffed it. At least his teeth were clean. Not that anyone inside these walls would judge him.
He walked to the front door, gave a single knock, and then entered.
Jay had been in many situations in his lifetime that were dangerous, if not to himself then to those he was helping. He’d been in the Pentagon and had kept secrets that some countries would love to know, but this, walking in here to tell them his news, was possibly the most terrified he’d been in a long time.
Not all time—his childhood had been one constant, terrifying moment.
A loud bark of laughter coming from somewhere in the house had his lips twitching despite his nerves. Looking at the last picture framed on the wall, he saw his name at the bottom. He’d given that drawing to Robyn when he was ten years old, and she’d said it deserved to go on the wall. Jay hadn’t cried when he’d seen it up there in a frame. He’d given up on tears because they got him nowhere, but he’d been proud.
Moving into the large kitchen that was the hub of the Duke family home, he found Robyn where she usually was, dressed in an apron and bustling about making things for her family. Beside her, stirring something in a pot, was the second man to have infiltrated her heart, Callum Taylor, Leah Reynolds’s uncle.
It had taken time for the Duke siblings to accept him, but now that they had, the man was a constant here.
The love Jay had for this woman was of a son for a mother. She’d been there when he’d needed to tie his first tie and when he’d had his heart broken by Julie Brown in fifth grade.
“Jay!” She smiled, walking toward him for the hug he always got, no matter if he’d seen her an hour ago or two months.
He inhaled the familiar scent of baking and Robyn Duke and hugged her back.
“You sit now, next to my grumpy sons, and Callum will bring you coffee. I can see you have something on your mind.”
That was another thing about her—she could always tell when one of her people wasn’t right.
He shook Callum’s hand.
“Good to see you again, Jay,” the man said, smiling.
“What’s wrong with you, loser?” Dan said next. He sat with his girl, Leah. They’d found each other again after a break, which no one had known at the time was a big deal. He now lived with her and Hudson on the farm that had been in her family for years.
“Hey, Leah, and you,” he said, slapping his best friend’s hand and then bending to kiss Leah’s cheek.
Jay heard the front door bang.
“Brody,” Dan said.
“He always bangs the front door,” Robyn said.
The second-eldest Duke sibling wandered in, looking scruffy. He was holding his son, Leo. Every time Jay saw the kid, he’d grown. His hair was dark and stood straight up off his head, and he seemed to be a pretty chill little dude.
What would his kid be like? The thought terrified him. How the hell could he, a man who had been raised by the mother from hell, parent a child?
“Give him to me,” Leah said, holding out her hands.
Brody lowered Leo down to her and then went to kiss his mom’s cheek and slapped Callum’s hand.
“I need to tell you all something,” Jay said before he chickened out. “All of you,” he added, looking at Callum.
His tone drew all eyes. Brody slid into the seat beside him, and Robyn moved closer. Callum leaned on the counter, watching.
“Is everything all right, Jay?” Dan asked.
“Not so much,” he said slowly.
The silence that settled around him wasn’t filled with tension but worry—for him. He sometimes still found that hard to believe, even though he’d lived with these people in this life longer than he had his mother. But they cared, and that had saved Jay.
“Are you sick, Jay?” Brody asked, concern etched on his face.
“No, nothing like that. It’s hard to say, so I’ll just get it out.”
