“What guy?” Hassett asked.

Emery turned to correct him and rolled his eyes as he realized the warden didn’t truly need clarification. “It’s a poem. Next month is National Poetry Month and on a particular day, you’re supposed to pick a poem to have in your pocket to share with anyone you meet. I was considering using that one… until you teased me.”

The older man grinned and ruffled Emery’s hair, an action that he knew the young investigator hated. “Don’t be so sensitive, Emery,” he said. “I teased you because I enjoy your company.”

“You tease him because he turns a delightful color when you do,” Miles interjected. He grinned over at Emery and shrugged. “I think it’s a lovely poem, Brother. Does it make you think of anyone in particular?”

Emery knew he was blushing as he stood, gathered his things and left the chuckling pair. He wasn’t going to answer his brother’s question. He was sure that if he tried his voice would betray him. One of these days he would learn to hide his emotions better.