Conspiracy Game (GhostWalkers, #4)(72)

She followed the rich aroma of fresh coffee into the spacious kitchen and stopped abruptly when she saw the stranger sitting at the table. Even from the back, he looked like Jack, but there was a subtle difference in his scent. She stood in the doorway, reluctant to intrude.

He turned his head and smiled at her. “You must be Briony. Come in and have some breakfast.”

He looked like Jack—not as hard, but far more ravaged. The scars marring his skin looked painful and deep, but somehow he managed to look not only confident—but good-looking in a rough pirate sort of way.

He stood up and crossed to the sink. “Coffee or orange juice with breakfast? I’d choose coffee if I were you. Jack’s already handing out orders about what you can and can’t have. It may be the last time you get close enough to even smell a cup of coffee in a while.”

She laughed. “Both then.” It was difficult not to stare at him, and she didn’t know if it was his resemblance to Jack or the scars. Although Ken was much more mutilated, she recognized the patterns and symmetry of his scarring, so much like those on Jack’s body. “Where is he?”

“Left for town before sunup. I think he’s buying clothes, groceries, and making you a doctor’s appointment.” He grinned at her as he held out a chair. “I’d love to be a little fly on the wall when they try to tell him he has to wait a week or two to get you in.”

“Want to make a bet whether or not I’ll be going today?”

“Hell no. Jack has no social skills. If they give him a hard time, he’s liable to pull out a knife this big”—he measured a foot with his hands—“and start cleaning his fingernails. If he wants you seen by a doctor today, you will be.”

Briony sank into the chair. “He didn’t say anything about a doctor to me.”

“You’ll get used to him. He doesn’t talk much. He’s more of a man of action. He muttered something about prenatal care while he was drinking his coffee. I didn’t know he knew what prenatal was.” Ken placed a plate of food in front of her. “I’m not the best cook, but it’s food.”

Briony laughed again. “He definitely takes charge. And the food looks good.”

Ken lifted his coffee cup, the smile fading from his eyes. “Jack’s always had to be in charge, and that won’t change. He’s a strong man, and he knows what he can and can’t have in his life to stay balanced.”

“Just say whatever it is you need to say,” Briony encouraged.

“Don’t push him too hard. And don’t hurt him.”

Her eyebrow shot up. “That’s it? That’s the best you can do? I was expecting wisdom, something to make sense of all this, but that’s no help.” She ran her fingers through her unruly hair. “Give me something else.”

Ken glanced right and left and leaned over the table. “He’s bossy,” he added in a conspiratorial whisper.

“He’s a dictator,” Briony corrected. “Don’t try to soft-soap it for me. You should hear the man throwing out orders left and right.”

Ken smirked. “At least now he can order you around instead of me. I owe you for that.”

“Don’t count on it. I’m betting he has plenty for both of us.”

“You have no idea.”

There was a short silence, a little awkward in spite of the fact that both of them were trying. Briony took a deep breath and forced a smile. “What are you working on today? Can I help?”

“I’m tiling one of the bathrooms. As you may have noticed, only a few rooms are actually finished. We’ve been taking our time and trying to get each room exactly how we want it. Jack wants to start on the second bedroom in his wing so by the time you have the baby, the room will be ready for it.”

Briony shook her head. “Don’t go to a lot of trouble and expense. I’ll be able to protect the baby after it’s born. It’s just now, when they come at me, I worry they’ll hurt the baby, and as I get bigger, I’ll probably get slower. I’m not asking Jack to take on the responsibility forever.”

“Is Jack the baby’s father or not?” Ken asked, his gray eyes darkening, reminding Briony of thunderclouds.

“Jack’s definitely the father, but I can understand why you’d ask. I’m not trying to trap him, Ken.” Briony felt dark color creeping up her skin.

“I asked because you don’t seem to understand my brother. He’ll never walk away from you or the baby. You’re in his life now. It won’t always be pleasant or easy, but he’ll protect both of you with his life. He’ll make certain you have everything you could ever need—or want—because that’s the kind of man he is.”

“I know he’s honorable,” she conceded. She couldn’t very well blurt out she wanted more than sex from Jack. She wanted to be loved. She wanted him to love her child, not just feel responsible. Of course Jack would take care of them. His code of honor dictated that he give them his best—but his code wasn’t his heart.

Ken tapped the table with his finger, a small rhythm that told her volumes. She studied his face, the gentleness there, the concern, the flicker of unease.

“Jack is… different—extraordinary, but different. It would take a very special woman to live with those differences,” Ken said.