The one on the left, broad-shouldered and sharp-eyed, watches me like he’s already decided I’m a problem he hasn’t figured out how to solve yet. His posture rigid in a way that feels protective without being obvious about it.
Another stands a little back, calmer, quieter, his expression more measured, like he’s taking everything in before he decides where he lands on it.
And the third, somewhere between the two, steady and grounded, looks at Jace more than he looks at me, like whatever happens next matters most for him.
It’s not threatening.
Not outright.
But it’s clear. They’re here for him.
I draw in a slow breath and bring my attention back to Jace, because that’s the only place it needs to be.
“They always stand like that?” I ask, my tone quiet, not mocking, just acknowledging what’s already obvious. “Or is this a special occasion?”
There’s the faintest shift in his expression at that, something that almost looks like awareness, like he knows exactly what I’m seeing and isn’t surprised by it.
“They’re just making sure everything’s alright,” he says, his voice steady. There’s something under it now, something more grounded than before.
“For you,” I say, not unkindly.
His gaze holds mine for a second longer, and this time there’s no confusion in it, no distance, just a kind of quiet certainty that wasn’t there a minute ago. “For all of us.”
That lands deeper than I expect.
Because I can see it now, not just in the way they’re standing, but in the way they don’t interrupt, don’t question him in front of me, don’t push into the space he’s holding.
They trust him to handle this.
Which means they trust him.
And that complicates things in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
“Hell of a way to start a morning,” one of them mutters under his breath, just loud enough to carry, his tone dry but not unkind.
Another lets out a quiet huff, something almost like a laugh. “You always did know how to make an entrance, Jace.”
The tension doesn’t disappear, but it loosens, just a fraction, like they’re giving this moment space without letting it crush everything around it.
Hadley shifts again beside me, her small fingers tightening briefly in mine before she leans just a fraction forward, her curiosity getting the better of her caution.
“Mommy,” she whispers again, softer this time, her eyes flicking toward the men behind him. “Are they his brothers? And are they all cowboys.”
The question is so simple, so open, that it cuts right through the tension for a second.
I nod, my voice gentler when I answer her. “Yeah, baby. They are.”
She studies them for a second longer, then looks back at Jace like she’s putting pieces together in her own quiet way.
I feel his attention shift again, drawn back to her like it was before. Something in my chest twists at the way it happens so naturally, like it’s not something he has to think about.
Like it’s instinct.
The man I remember didn’t have that.
Or maybe I just never saw it.
I lift my chin slightly, bringing the focus back where it needs to be. “I didn’t come here to disrupt anything you’ve got going,” I say, keeping my tone even, grounded. “And I’m not looking to make this harder than it already is.”
