Page 53 of The Wild Charge

Fox didn’t know the ins and out of equitation, but he could tell that Tenny had been trained well, somewhere; that the horse responded to him, and that his seat was steady and relaxed. He wasgoodat this. And the softness of his expression said that he enjoyed it.

As Fox watched, Tenny slowed the horse to a walk, let out the reins, and headed to Reese’s spot on the rail. Reese lifted a hand to intercept the horse’s questing muzzle, and Tenny’s look got even softer when he looked down at him.

Behind him, Walsh said, “They’re sweet, aren’t they?”

Fox whirled, frowning. No one snuck up on him.

Though, he supposed he wasn’t quite himself at the moment.

He scrutinized Walsh’s face, as he moved to stand beside him, searching for mockery, more than a little shocked by the surge of protectiveness he felt for the boys. Yeah, they were screwed up – show him a trained assassin who wasn’t – but he wasn’t going to tolerate anyone pointing that out.

But Walsh was impassive; not in the same way that Fox was, not in a trained way, which had always made him hard to read.

“They’re little shits,” Fox countered.

Walsh snorted. “Yeah. But the puppy love is kinda cute, you gotta admit.”

Fox shot him a narrow, sideways look. “Mr. Sentimental over here.”

Walsh shrugged.

At the rail, the horse had hung his whole neck over, and was rubbing his ear on the shoulder of Reese’s t-shirt. Reese stared on, dumbfounded, and Tenny laughed, the sound sharp and aggressive, his smile anything but.

“You know, after everything with Tango…Ghost won’t care,” Walsh said. “And if anyone else does, well. He’s our brother. They’ll have to answer to us.”

Fox turned back to him, surprised. “Yeah,” he agreed, at last, as he watched Walsh’s profile settle into firm resolve.

Watching the boys, Walsh said, “So why are you here? To check on them?”

“Nah. Not sure, really. My bike just sort of brought me here.”

“Ah. So it’s advice you’re after.”

“Fuck you, no I’m not,” Fox said, without any heat behind it.

He watched Tenny rein the horse away from the rail and set off at a swinging walk, twisting around in the saddle to call something back to Reese, whose response was too quiet to hear.

Fox prided himself on his self-control, but he tossed it over his shoulder, now, when he said, “What did you do when you found out Emmie was pregnant?”

To Walsh’s credit – not that Fox would ever tell the bastard – he didn’t react. Didn’t snort, or chuckle, or make so much as an inquiring sound. After a moment of thought, he said, “We were married already. I knew I loved her. But after she fell asleep one night, I spent a long time in the study with a bottle of vodka, hoping Devin’s paternal instincts skipped a generation.”

“You doubted?You?”

“I doubt all the time. We all do. He fucked us up, Charlie.”

Fox breathed a laugh. “Can’t argue with that.”

“But all of us turned out better than him, so there’s that. Even you.” His boots scraped faintly on the path as he turned to leave.

Fox stood with his hands in his pockets, watching Reese gaze at his little brother with more life in his face than he’d ever shown.

~*~

Tenny didn’tdonervous, as a general rule. But there was no other word for the faintly sick feeling in his stomach now as he stood shirtless and shower-damp in front of his bathroom mirror and contemplated how much product to put in his hair. He usually worked a fat glop of pomade into it and styled it with a comb until it sat just right: that perfect blend of effortless and artful.

But as he raked a hand through his wet hair, now, he remembered lying on Reese’s chest last night, body still buzzing, and Reese’s fingertips carefully picking the strands apart until none of the sticky product remained. He scowled at himself. “Stupid,” he told his reflection. “You’re bloody stupid, you know that?”

The mirror had no answers.

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