Page 92 of Fragile Heart

It’s nearly as good as a kiss, I decide, as my thighs clench again.

“Brielle!” Lynn is all smiles when I step into the farmhouse. She pulls me into a warm hug. “I’m so glad you made it. I’ve been asking Emily all summer to invite you.”

Her eyes hop from me to Ethan and then back, her eyebrow rising in slow, unspoken question. My cheeks flush a dark red again. She laughs and hugs me again.

“Nana, can we make pancakes now? Aunt Emily is here, too.” Camden pulls at her leg, wedging between us with the deftness of a sly cat. “Grandpa said I have to wait for you.”

The screen door closes behind us, and Emily’s vanilla sweeps through the room, stronger than I’d expected. Ethan grunts as it hits him. When I look over my shoulder, he’s scowling at his sister. She shrugs, messes with her hair some more, and then moves around us, slipping off her shoes without missing a step. As she passes me, a more subtle scent wraps around me, something warm and spicy. It takes me a minute to pinpoint it.

Why does she smell like cloves?

Curiosity rises in me, but I squash it before it has me asking inappropriate questions. I’ll just corner her later like she did me in Jackson a couple weeks ago. Clearing my throat, I hold out the small package of chocolate covered pretzels.

Lynn’s smile is wider than before, a hint of surprise lighting her eyes.

“I couldn’t find the peanut butter ones. Jackson’s options aren’t as varied as Denver’s,” I say in lieu of an explanation.

She takes them, smoothing down the silver bow.

“Oh, you’re fine, dear,” she says. “I didn’t realize you remembered after all these years.” She squeezes my wrist even as Caleb laces his fingers with my other hand. “Thank you.”

With that, she runs her hand through Camden’s blond hair, twirling a piece around her finger. He grins and then runs back to the kitchen. Caleb pulls me along, and we follow her through the house into the heart of it—the large kitchen. Camden’salready scrambling onto an impressive-looking step stool that has three rungs and gets him nearly the same height as Lynn.

Scott looks up from the newspaper he has spread across the island, his glasses perched low on his nose. He adjusts them as he stands and approaches me. I expect a handshake, but he instead pulls me into his chest with a single arm around my shoulders.

“Nice to see you, Brielle,” he says. “What would you like to drink? And I know Lynn has a fruit salad prepped if you’re hungry.”

“Water is fine,” I say. He nods and then crosses the kitchen. I breathe deeply, trying to keep my nerves from filling my throat, and tuck myself closer into Caleb’s side. Scott pulls a glass from the open shelf beside the sink and fills it with a pitcher from the fridge.

“There’s a new pot of coffee just finishing up,” he says. “Mom used your mug, so it’s in the dishwasher right now if you want to pull it out and clean it real quick.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Ethan says. He moves from his position a half-step behind me. His hand just grazes my waist, and my breath catches. A thread of lavender weaves around me, and Caleb hides his smile against my hair. Scott hands me the glass, nodding as I offer a quiet thanks.

Within moments, the kitchen is abuzz with activity. Ethan and Scott chat about the ranch, rattling off horse names and trimming schedules before delving into a conversation regarding cattle IDs that I don’t recognize. Emily steps up to the other side of Camden, offering a third pair of hands as they work at the large gas stove that’s had a griddle placed over four of the six burners. Camden giggles as they pour the first one and he gets to wipe up the drip down the outside of the bowl and eat it.

The warmth of the family hits a nerve I didn’t even realize was still raw. Mom’s been dead for years, and I’ve had no contactwith any of her siblings since she went to rehab that summer that landed me here the first time. And yet, seeing the Monroes orbit around each other, work together in such seamless unity, has an awful ball of emotion welling in my chest. I breathe through it until it doesn’t feel quite so overwhelming.

Emily laughs as Lynn mutters something under her breath, a joke I don’t hear over the sizzle of the batter on the griddle. Emily and Lynn are nearly twins, their dark hair and brown eyes that are a couple shades lighter than mine. Ethan’s coloring is the same, too. Scott’s blond hair didn’t make the genetic cut.

I wonder if Ethan’s kids would have blond hair, I muse to myself. And then I freeze, pain lancing through me before I can brace for it, more complicated than my sadness over Brett being a lying prick. Camden isn’t Ethan’s genetically, but he could have been. If Kayla hadn’t killed herself only months after Brandon was gored by that bull in the pastures, would they have had more kids?

Would I have had a place to come after Brett? Or would I have ended up being the same homewrecker I left with a cold shoulder in the courtroom in Denver?

“You good?” Caleb whispers against my ear. I can’t help but shiver.

I force the thoughts away and nod. He spreads his hand on my waist as I let more of my weight fall on him. He urges me into one of the chairs situated along the island and then sits beside me, his palm hot as a brand against my thigh where he grabs me in a proprietary hold.

“I was thinking of going up to Fool’s Canyon tomorrow,” he says, loud enough it draws the attention of the entire room. His eyes are on me, though, his chin resting on his open hand. “Would you like to go with me? We could take the horses and pack a picnic.”

The room drops into a stillness so complete, you could hear a pin drop. I purse my lips, trying to understand the sudden shift in the dynamics around me. Scott raises an eyebrow, and Ethan frowns as he shakes his head, keeping his dad quiet. I tuck away the interaction to ask him about later. Maybe. After we hash out exactly what’s happening between us and how it fits in with my dynamic with Caleb. And with Camden.

Yeah, maybe it’ll just be something that fades into the background.

“Sure,” I say. Caleb squeezes my thigh, tight enough I almost whine. “It’s one meadow I haven’t revisited.”

Caleb’s smile is bright, but it doesn’t quite cover the heavy weight of the room.

I can’t help but feel there was an unspoken conversation I didn’t have the language for.

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