Page 59 of Silks
“Don’t be mad,” he said as we watched twilight steal over the rolling green fields. “But you know I killed Dad last year, right?”
I laughed and leaned back against his broad chest, moving Wentworth to my shoulder so I could snuggle him closer.
“I kind of guessed when he was killed in the middle of the Kentucky Derby in broad fucking daylight. Only one person I know is absolutely psychotic enough to do that.”
Teddy had a burp rag on his shoulder and some spit-up on his navy blue polo shirt and I had never been more fucking turned on by him.
“You’re not mad?” he asked, putting out a finger to gently stroke my face.
“Dad would have tried to drag you to prison,” I shrugged. “He got what he deserved.”
My brother’s grin was huge, and he pulled a full bottle of my breastmilk from the back pocket of his suit pants. “Let’s go home and put our baby to bed.”
He gave me the baby carrier, and I put Wentworth carefully inside.
Then, hand in hand, we walked across the fields to our home.
