Page 17 of Fragile Heart

“Cam, kid, it’s Papa. You want to say hi?”

He smiles, the question of riding Nyx instead of going for a trail ride forgotten for the moment. He runs back toward me, and I scoop him into an arm, propping him on my hip, before answering the video call and handing Cam the phone.

“Hi Papa!” he says the moment Caleb’s face comes into view.

I tune out their chatter and focus on crossing the pasture. The green SUV is back, parked a small distance from the private barn. My steps slow without me meaning to. I’ve seen that car enough around town to know exactly who it belongs to.

Fuck me.

I’ve managed an entire fucking week without seeing her, not since I walked into my own goddamn barn and was confronted with the ghost of a life I had ten years ago. Consider it good luck… or tactful avoidance. Either way, the last thing I need right now is to be confronted with Brielle Ashford’s sumptuous body and take-me eyes. My dick twitches, but I ignore it.

“Ethan?” Caleb’s voice draws me back to the call.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Should be home late tomorrow or early Thursday.”

“Sounds good,” I offer.

Setting Camden back on his feet, I cross the last ten feet to the barn’s entrance before I lose my nerves.

Because there’s not a chance in hell I’m nervous. There’s no goddamn reason for me to evenbenervous. She’s just a woman.

A woman that I fucked.

A woman that I spent an entire summer fucking.

A woman that’s haunted my dreams for the better part of the last decade.

There I fucking go again.

Camden grabs my hand, wrapping his fingers around one of my own. He holds up the phone to me.

“Here, Daddy.”

“I’ll text if anything changes,” Caleb says once I’ve taken the phone back.

We say a quick goodbye.

Camden runs ahead of me, straight through the open barn doors and into the building. I take a bit longer.

I’m not hesitating. I’m just… collecting myself.

“This barn is private property, ma’am.”

Beau’s voice cuts through the quiet and has my feet moving before I feel anywhere close to ready.

A cool, steady voice responds, “I have permission from Emily.”

Beau grunts.

“She hasn’t—” His voice cuts off and gains a different, more worried edge. “Cam, you can’t just come flying in like that. I could’ve had Minthe out here instead of Phoebe.”

The relative darkness of the barn takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to.

Brielle stands in front of Phoebe’s stall. The horse is tied out just in front of it, using the ring designed exactly for that purpose, the knot of the lead rope a bit messy but effective nonetheless. She’s already saddled. The horse’s nose presses into Brielle’s hand as the silence extends into the territory of uncomfortable.

I force my gaze to skip over Brielle. Beau stands a few stalls down. His arms are crossed, a frown etched deeply into his face.

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