Page 69 of With Spite

Koen was wearing a Henley, jeans, and boots just like Hux was, but in a different color.

Koen’s boots were also covered in sawdust and he kicked up even more as he walked, not noticing.

I noticed, though.

But only because the sawdust in the air, paired with the sun that was coming in through the open doorways, were making them look kind of ethereal.

They finally reached me just as the door behind me was pulled open.

I would’ve gone ass over tea kettle had Hux not moved like lightning, pulling me into his arms and against his solid body.

“Shit, sorry,” I heard someone say.

A woman.

I turned my head to see that Ida Bell, Koen’s nanny, was there.

“The kids settled with their parents?”

He nodded once. His face tight and sad.

Ida Bell touched my arm and whispered, “You okay?”

I nodded.

I was more than okay.

“Good.” She stepped back. “Yes, they’re with your sister and brother-in-law. They said that they’d call you when they made it back to Lubbock.”

I had no clue what was going on. But I didn’t necessarily like the way my belly felt when she spoke.

“Good.” Koen sounded a little bit sad. “It’s good that he finally made it home.”

Ida Bell nodded, but she also looked sad. Way more than sad. She looked devastated.

“We’re headed out,” Koen said. “Have a good one.”

I waved from Hux’s arms, which were still firmly around me, but only Ida Bell smiled and waved back.

The door closed, and I turned to look up at Hux. “What the hell was that? I thought those kids were Koen’s?”

“They kind of are.” Hux squeezed me and let me go, and the bereft feeling was back. “They’re Koen’s nephews. For the sake of getting custody of them, though, he was their dad. Long story short, Koen’s sister is fucked up. She has a really bad case of postpartum depression. Tried to kill them when her husband disappeared. And Koen had to say he was the baby’s father to get custody of the kids. He took them home with him and left his sister to get some help at an in-patient medical facility that specializes in PPD. Koen’s brother-in-law, Porter, however, was a prisoner of war. He was captured two years ago and found nine months ago. It’s taken him this long to recover on his own. And come find his sister and kids. Porter is a Dixie Warden down in Texas, which happens to be where his sister, Brea, also has her medical treatment facility. I doubt they stay down there long, though. Once Brea’s better, I’ll bet they’re right back up here.”

“That’s both awful and sweet at the same time,” I breathed.

“Come on,” he said. “I’m tired of breathing sawdust.”

I followed behind him, stopping when he did to get rid of my dusty boots right inside the door that led back to his main apartment.

“This place is going to be really cool when you’re done,” I said. “And heated floors. The guy I was talking to sounded like they were too extravagant.”

“I’d like to keep things that are important to me warm.”

It took me a minute to consider that maybe he was talking about something more important than his toes. Like a person.

But the butterflies in my belly made me clam up.

Just as we got to the kitchen, there was a knock on the door.