Ghostwalker 04 - Conspiracy Game

put the purchases back in the bags. She wasn’t going to argue with him, even though he was using his drill sergeant voice. She’d overlook it and stay in a great mood.
    “Nevertheless, you aren’t tiling the bathroom. If you want to learn, I’ll teach you after the baby’s born.”
    Briony’s hands stilled and she turned to face him, holding on to her smile. “Jack. This isn’t a dictatorship. I’m quite capable of deciding what I can or can’t do. While I appreciate your concern, it isn’t necessary to make my decisions for me.”
    He nodded his head, his features as always expressionless. He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Well, baby, do me a favor and decide not to tile the bathroom right now. That way there won’t be a problem, will there? Would you like me to help you carry those things to our room?”
    Briony drew her breath in sharply, smelled blood, and whirled around to stare at Ken as he stood in the doorway cradling his bloody arm.
    “Give it up, Bri,” Ken advised, casually walking to the sink without looking at his brother. Blood dripped down his arm. “Jack’s a mule, stubborn as hell, and you’re not going to be tiling the bathroom.”

    Jack moved fast to Ken’s side, taking his arm and turning it over to inspect the cut. The wound was over a particularly rigid scar. “You didn’t feel it until it was too late, did you?”
    he asked his brother.
    Ken shrugged and flashed Briony a small, humorless grin. “You probably should wait until you go to the doctor. You can ask him what you can and can’t do and what you can drink or eat, so if jughead starts with the orders you have some ammunition.” His eyes begged her not to notice the blood dripping down his arm, to continue their conversation as if Jack wasn’t washing the wound and treating it with antiseptic.
    Briony tipped her head back to meet Jack’s unfathomable gaze. His expression was unreadable. She winked at Ken as Jack dried the cut and bandaged it. “And if I decide I’m going to do it anyway, what kind of temper tantrum does he throw?”
    A sudden wisp of a smile softened Jack’s hard jaw and relaxed his mouth for a fleeting moment. The approval in his eyes warmed her and sent little flutters of excitement to her stomach.
    “I throw a caveman tantrum,” Jack answered and swooped her up, lifting her into his arms, caging her against him. “Brute strength, baby. It works when all else fails.”
    Ken gathered the packages and piled them high in Briony’s lap. “I’ve never seen an actual temper tantrum,” he admitted. “Just do what he says; it’s so much easier.”
    “We’re going to head into town,” Jack reminded his brother. “I’ll need you to go with us.
    Another hour and we’ll take off. You’ll need to be ready for combat, Ken.”
    Ken shrugged. “I’m always ready.”
    Jack carried Briony through the house toward the bedroom. “Thanks,” he said gruffly. “It happens sometimes. The scarring makes it difficult for him to feel anything until it’s too late. The scars are all over him—everywhere.”
    Briony felt his pain like a knife stabbing through her heart. It took a moment to realize she was in his mind. “He doesn’t want pity.”
    “Hell no, he doesn’t. He’d shoot me first. He insists on doing the tiling, though.”
    “He needs to do it, Jack,” Briony said, recalling the desperation in Ken’s eyes.
    “I know. I don’t say anything, but it’s damned difficult some days.” Jack tossed her on the bed, ending the subject because if they continued to talk about it he might cry like a baby. “Before I left this morning I cleared out a couple of the top drawers and there’s plenty of room in the closet. Make sure you take a good look at the spare bedroom so you can tell me how you want to fix it up for the baby.”
    “I will.”

    “And stay the hell out of the bathroom. I don’t want you near the tile saw.”
    “Jack.” Briony traced the pattern on the cover, looking around her at all the bright packages. Her fingers crept up to her earlobe, stroked the fiery rubies, and slid to her throat.
    “You can’t order me around, no matter how charming you are.”
    Pain swirled in the depths of his eyes for just a moment. She caught the surge of sorrow in his mind. He turned away from her to open the closet door. “I told you I wouldn’t be an easy man to live with.”
    “What does that mean?” Briony asked, frowning, trying to grasp what he wasn’t saying to her.