Page 23 of Lone Star

“Nope.” He gave a quick smile, and kissed her forehead before he straightened. “Jen,” he said, turning to his sister. “Agent Cantrell followed us back. He needs to get an official statement from you.”

Surprise flashed across Jenny’s face, briefly, but then it smoothed away, and she nodded. “Right. Sure. Let me just–” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Mind if I use the guest bathroom?” she asked Michelle.

Guest bathroom. “Of course. That’syourbathroom.” Michelle put a careful stress on the word, wanting her to still feel welcome – to know, after what she’d admitted earlier, that the clubhouse, and its cozy sanctuary in back, were still her home.

Jenny’s smile was tight. “Thanks. Be right back.”

When she was gone, Michelle got to her feet, and tied her hair up with the elastic she always wore on one wrist. “Jack, are you hungry?” she asked with as much brightness she could muster. “Would you like some jelly toast?”

“Yes!”

Colin, still holding him, gave him a gentle bounce. “Yes what?”

“Yes,please!”

“TJ up yet?” Candy asked, as Michelle went to the counter and got out the bread.

“No, I was going to check.”

“I’ll get him.”

When she unfurled the long plastic tongue of the bread bag, and breathed in the yeasty scent of fresh sourdough, her stomach recoiled. She willed the nausea down, and breathed through her mouth, struck by one of the waves of hormonal nostalgia that had plagued her first pregnancy. A frustrating sort of nostalgia, because it was a longing for something she’d never had.

She’d missed the nebulous, comforting, cultural idea of having her mum when she had her first period; when she got her heart broken by a boy for the first time; when she left London, and came here. Raven had done her best, always, and was beloved for it. But it wasn’t the same. She’d wanted her mother there for her wedding. And she wanted her here, now, to put an arm around her shoulders, and talk of her own morning sickness, and share all the little tips and tricks that mothers dispensed to daughters; the kind of advice that everyone else in her life had tried to compensate for so valiantly.

A water droplet landed on the back of her hand, and she realized tears slid silently down her face. She dashed them angrily with her sleeve, and pressed down the lever on the toaster with more force than necessary. Stupid hormones.

“Hey, you okay?”

She jumped when Colin leaned up against the counter beside her. A rather wild, embarrassed glance around proved that he’d installed Jack on the couch in front of cartoons, and that she hadn’t heard the TV come on, nor Colin approach.

She wiped her face again and said, “Fine. Yes. I’m fine,” in a tone that wouldn’t have convinced a stranger of the fact.

A quick look revealed Colin’s dark brows knitting as he frowned. “Are you crying?” he asked, low enough that Jack couldn’t hear. “Are you…?” He looked distressed, like he had no idea what to do if she saidyes.

It struck her as hilarious, this big, scary guy looking at her like she was a bomb that might go off, and she smiled, the last of her tears receding. “Hormone moment,” she said, and his brow smoothed instantly in understanding. “If I’m not puking I’m crying.”

He nodded, and made a shooing motion with one giant hand. “Here. I can make toast.”

She gave way with a grateful sigh, sinking down into the chair at the end of the long table. “How areyoudoing?” she asked. “Besides freaking out, obviously.”

His mouth twitched sideways in rueful acknowledgement. “Really wishing my kid’s bedroom wasn’t on the front of the goddamn house.” He braced a hand on the counter and turned toward her. “And wondering why whoever this sick fuck is went from messing with Pacer to messing with me.”

Michelle had wondered that, too. “They must have realized that Candy got involved, and decided to send a message.”

“At my house.”

“His sister’s house.” She frowned to herself. “Anyone who knew him at all would know Jenny’s his big weak spot.”

Colin’s brows went up. “Just Jenny?”

“Oh.” Realization dawned a beat too late. “Me too, I suppose.”

“You, too, especially. That’s just common sense: you wanna mess with a guy, you threaten his old lady.” He made a face. “Men kinda suck, huh?”

“Duly noted. But…” She wracked her brain – for all the good it did. Pregnancy brain was a thing, and she had it. “Maybe it was too difficult to get in and out of here.” As soon as she said it, she knew it for the truth. We’ve got the fences, and the cameras, and the single boys are always coming in and out at all hours of the night.”

“Makes sense.” The toast popped, and he pulled it, and added more bread. When Michelle moved to fetch the jelly from the fridge, he waved her back down and got it himself.

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