I’ve killed many. Premeditated. Coldblooded. Yet I haven’t served a single day behind bars. If I have any regrets, it’s that Lorne is locked in there instead of me.
“This isn’t easy, is it?” She slips her hand from my leg and pushes the dress over her knees.
“Lorne’s the strongest guy I know. If anyone can survive this place, it’s him.”
She nods slowly, staring at the guard tower. “I know he killed an innocent man, but it wasn’t intentional. Ten years seems too long a punishment.”
One day would’ve been too long, but Dalton Cassidy and Sheriff Fletcher made sure Lorne was put away long enough to drill on his land.
She looks down at her lap. “We just spent two hours together and didn’t exchange a word.”
“But we communicated more during that time than we have in the past nine days.”
Her lips pinch and relax, curving into a small smile. “Maybe so.”
“I knew I’d find it.”
“What?”
“An agreeable bone in your body.”
She huffs a laugh. “Let’s go see your brother.”
Even though Lorne isn’t really my brother, I consider him one. This isn’t something I told her, and she hasn’t witnessed my interactions with him. Yet she’s paid close enough attention to me to understand how I feel. It engenders a tenderness for her I’ve never felt for anyone outside my family.
For the next hour, she sits quietly beside me as I catch up with Lorne. These visits never give me a sense of wholeness or reunion. We’re separated by a metal table. Our conversations are monitored and surrounded by chattering, often tearful families. But I can read a lot in his eyes, and today they seem darker than ever.
Incarceration hasn’t just paled his complexion and toughened his appearance. It’s slowly sucking away his spirit, leaving behind a ghost of the boy I grew up with.
He’s aged faster and harder than Jake and me. Only a year older, he scowls more, speaks less, and moves in a cagey, shielded manner that concerns me. No matter how many times I ask about his life within these walls, he refuses to discuss it. He won’t even hint at his misery. But I know. I know that whatever is happening to him in here has jaded him, reshaped him, and I fucking hate it.
“You’re pretty.” He stares at Maybe, his expression as unreadable as his tone. “Way too pretty for this guy.”
“Thank you, but why would you assume…?” Sitting a foot away, she turns to me. “Did you tell him we were together?”
I look at Lorne and announce, “We’re together.”
“No, we’re not.” She pushes her shoulders back.
“I told him about our deal.”
“All deals aside…” Lorne rests an elbow on the table. “The tension between the two of you is stifling.”
She shifts in the chair and averts her eyes. I bet her panties are wet and her mind’s sprinting through the possibilities that await her during the drive home.
I wish I had a better feel on Lorne’s thoughts. He’s been in here since he was eighteen, without his family, without the ranch, without sex. On the outside, he appears put together. If he’s dealing with internal shit like I suspect he is, he’d never show it.
“Why are you here?” He levels her with a look that spurs her to sit taller.
“Jarret invited me.”
“Jarret isn’t the kind of man who’s led around by his dick.”
I curl my fingers against my lips, concealing a grin. Lorne has the ability to wield a glare like a hammer, and he’s wearing that glare now to intimidate her. But she’s already nervous, given the twist of her fingers in her hair.
“I know.” She forces her hands onto her lap.
She also knows I’m not the only one who will come after her if she fucks with my family. Lorne wasn’t a forgiving guy before prison. Now, he’s downright frightening.
“We have more in common than you think.” She lifts her chin, her soft blue eyes clashing with Lorne’s hard green.
I shoot her a curious glance as Lorne growls, “I seriously doubt that.”
I’m with Lorne. They’re nothing alike.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask.
She gives me a sad smile and looks away. “I’ll tell you someday.”
Damn her fucking secrets.
Lorne meets my eyes, silently reprimanding. Get control of this.
I stare right back. I’m working on it.
We slip into conversations about the ranch, and too soon, the hour is over. I hug him as tightly as possible and force myself to let go. I force my boots out of the room, out of the prison, and into the truck with Maybe at my side.
She sits in the middle without being asked. “There’s some good breeding on Julep Ranch, and I’m not referring to the horses.”
I pull out of the parking lot and toss her an inquisitive glance.
“You all are insanely good-looking,” she says. “Lorne’s no exception. He’s also intimidating. And kind of scary.”