Page 145 of Bloom

“Did Lux ever tell you about our dad coming around after our mom died?”

Tangled so deep in thought, it takes a minute to pull myself out and register Jackson’s question. When I do, I shake my head. “She never talks about your parents.”

None of them do. All I really know about them are the dribs and drabs I’ve pieced together from snippets of information revealed over the years; an on-and-off again relationship that resulted in too many kids they didn’t want, kids they didn’t even pretend to want, and a childhood spent bouncing from place to place until they finally landed somewhere safe.

“He turned up the day after her funeral. I think my grandmother dragged him, honestly.” He laughs a bitter noise, as bitter as the relationship between him and his paternal grandparents. “I screamed at them all. Told them to get out of our lives, bought the ranch from them so they would have to, and we haven’t heard from them since. I did that for the girls, and I did it for me, and I don’t feel guilty.” He glances at me briefly, just long enough to see those dark eyes shining with stern sincerity. “Youdon’t feel guilty, Caroline.”

You don’t feel guilty.

I repeat it in my head. I repeat it the whole way back to the ranch. And somewhere along the way, I start to believe it.

“Where the hell did you two sneak off to?”

Hands on her hips, Lux eyes me and Jackson suspiciously as we slope into the barn. I swear even the dogs, scattered across the hay-dusted floor seeking shelter from the dry September heat, perk up curiously at our arrival. Giving my shoulder an encouraging pat, Jackson exits out the back door, whistling for the pack to follow him and leaving me alone to explain.

“I needed his help with something.”

I knew that wouldn’t be enough, but the ferocity with which Lux’s dark brows shoot up to her hairline is still vaguely amusing. They droop as I elaborate, drawing together as I detail my brief but fulfilling foray into town.

Unimpressed, she kisses her teeth. “I would’ve gone with you.”

I know she would’ve—I didn’t ask her for pretty much the same reason I didn’t ask Hunter. “You’re too pretty for prison.”

“Rich people get away with murder all the time.”

I snort, reaching out to box her on the shoulder gently only to be yanked into a hug that knocks the breath out of me.

“Proud of you, Line.”

Over the lump in my throat, I warble, “Proud of me too.”

Lux squeezes me tightly before pulling back, dropping a noisy kiss on my cheek as she goes. Clearing her throat, she swipes once beneath either eye before getting back to work, picking up the pitchfork leaning against the stall beside her and stabbing at a bale of hay. “I noticed your truck isn’t here.”

It’s the least accusatory sentence in the history of the world yet it makes me want to hold up my hands and deny some nonexistent crime. “So?”

One knowing look makes me sigh. I relent, spilling the part of this morning I conveniently left out before. “I walked over from Hunter’s.”

A shit-eating grin stretches Lux’s mouth as wide as it can possibly go. “I thought you were walking a little funny.”

I can’t even deny it, Idon’tdeny it, and my silence costs me.

Lux’s smile drops. She squints at me, a ‘no freaking way’ kind of a look on her face as she realises her joke isn’t actually a joke. A disbelieving gasp parts her lips. “Y’all fucked, didn’t you?”

Again, there’s no room for denial.Fuckedis definitely the word I’d use.

The pitchfork falls to the ground with a clang that’s almost as loud as the shrieked, “Caroline Brennan,” that makes me wince. “You had sex with Hunter?”

I resist the urge to clamp my hands over my ears—and to cower with embarassment. “Say that again. I don’t think everyone in Ponderosa Falls heard you.”

Lux grins like a freaking maniac. “Now, now, limpy.”

“I’m notlimping.”

“You’re definitely waddling a little.”

“Shut up.”

“I expect salacious details.”

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