“Not sure he’s much of a hugger. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s stuck around to help. But enough about Dane. How about some breakfast?”
“Breakfast sounds great. I just need to wash up, then I’ll be down.”
“Perfect. How do you like your coffee?”
“Strong.”
He chuckled. “All right then. See you downstairs.”
I nodded, shoving my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, and waited for Tucker to let himself out.
When the door clicked shut, I wiggled, shaking off the nerves, then made my way to the wall, and pressed my ear against the cold blue surface. I couldn’t make out their conversation, but someone left the room a minute later, the door clicking shut, heels clacking on the hardwood floor outside.
Heavy footfalls made their way across the room. The bed creaked. A low male voice started to hum. Oh, God, my heart. He was singing to her. Emotion got the best of me, and I made my way to the bathroom to dab my wet cheeks.
Didn’t feel right, leaving her, but down to my bones, I knew my niece was safe with that man, criminal or not.
I made my way downstairs and joined the Slade family for breakfast. I met Leticia’s husband, James, Tucker’s wife, Aida, his daughter, Lucia, and their dog, Lola, who managed to position herself between me and the baby, no matter who held the little angel.
We ate. And I readied myself for the challenges ahead.
# # #
“Good morning, sweetie.”
I laid the bag of toys down on the chair, then stood a few feet from the end of her bed, gauging her response.
My niece sat upright, clutching a doll to her chest. A pink hue dusted her cheeks. Her eyes shone brighter. She didn’t make eye contact, but she didn’t shy away, and that was progress.
“Lettie told me you ate some breakfast this morning. That’s wonderful. Breakfast is my favorite meal. I love pancakes the most. But only with peanut butter and real syrup. Maybe someday we can make pancakes together.” I moved closer, steps measured, and smoothed a hand over the bedspread, keeping to the corner.
She tracked my movement, hugging the doll tighter.
“What would you like to do today?” I retreated to the chair and rifled through the bag, pulling out a puzzle, a couple of books, drawing pads, and crayons.
I looked around the room. “We could read, or we could draw, or maybe you could help me put this puzzle together.” Her eyes darted from the doll to me, then she quickly turned her head.
“You like puzzles?” I asked. Paused. Continued. “I love puzzles. This one here…” I held up the box so she could see the picture, the bright spring flowers with kittens poking their heads through cheerful petals. “I’ve tried and tried to put it together, but I can’t seem to make the pieces fit. Then I realized that this is a two-person puzzle. Did you know there was such a thing? A two-person puzzle. Silly, right? Anyway, I was hoping you could help me. What do ya think?”
I searched her face for a sign, any hint that she would allow me close enough to put the puzzle together. She lay back down, rolled to her side, and brushed her fingers through the doll’s hair.
My heart ached. “Maybe we can do the puzzle later.” I laid the box down on the small table, settled for a book, curled up in the chair, and started to read The One and Only Ivan out loud.
Three chapters in, the sleepy little girl hopped out of bed, padded to the bathroom and closed the door. The toilet flushed. The water ran, and a few seconds later, she came out, ran to the bed, and curled under the covers, tucking her hands under her cheek just like my sister used to do.
I continued reading until her breaths turned into faint snores. Then I let my own lids fall shut.
Whisper soft humming lulled me from a dream, and the room came into focus, the sun bright and unrelenting. I was drenched with sweat and covered to my waist by the comforter that had been on my niece’s bed.
She sat at the table in the corner of the room, the puzzle half put together, her head down, freckled face covered in wild waves of auburn hair.
I stretched, letting the blanket fall to the floor, and watched the little girl rifle through puzzle pieces, twisting and turning each one. No doubt, she would have finished the puzzle in record time, had the heavy stomp of boots not sounded outside the door.
The child gasped, ran to the bed, and buried herself under the sheet.
Male voices came from the hallway, footfalls moving at a fast pace. I waited for them to pass, then whispered, so as not to startle her, “Thank you for the blanket. Can I put it back on your bed now?”
No response.
“If you want me to put it back, you need to tell me.” I waited. Not a peep. “Or you could shake your head, or wiggle your toes.”
I watched the sheet for signs of movement. Her leg twitched, then straightened, and seconds later, her little foot wiggled under the sheet. I held back the laughter that bubbled inside me. Joy. Pure joy. We’d made a connection. I didn’t think I’d ever been happier.
“Okay. Here it comes.”
I gripped the edge of the comforter, stayed to the end of the bed, counted, “One. Two. Three,” then shook the cotton out in a wave, high above the bed so it billowed out and floated for a brief moment before landing on top of her tiny body.
God, how I wanted to jump into that bed with her, curl her into my arms, and hug her forever.
Instead, I watched her wiggle more until she peeked her head out for oxygen.
I picked up the book and continued to read.
Come lunch time, my niece wouldn’t touch her food. Lettie suggested we give her savior a shot at getting her to eat. Reluctantly, I agreed, retreating to my room next door, ear to the wall.
The next three days continued at the same pace. I’d spend the day with her, excluding meal times. Come bed time, I’d listen through the wall while the man named Dane hummed and sometimes sang her to sleep.
By the fourth day, my spirits were bruised. I had hoped to make better progress, but every time she made a breakthrough, something happened to set her back. A bad dream. A spilled glass of orange juice. A loud noise.
When she was scared, the only person to calm her was that damn stranger. And as the hours rolled on, the little green monster sank his claws deeper into my chest.
Dane
Ignoring the ache in my chest, I stretched, then winced, my body protesting even the slightest movement.
The girl sat next to me, her tiny body curled into my side, my ass wedged into a too-small chair.
I looked down at the puzzle piece she held, then pointed to the corner where I thought it might belong. She shook her head, then set the piece in the opposite corner, clicking it into place.
Her body jiggled with silent laughter, her head shaking as if chastising my incompetence.
“Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?” I couldn’t help my grin. She still hadn’t spoken a word, but the girl didn’t need words to communicate.
Five puzzles in three days. Fucking puzzles. Fuck me. My back was wrecked from the damn mini-chair. And I silently cursed her aunt for bringing those God damned toys into the room. I had it my way, we’d’ve had an Xbox hooked to the television. Hell, I’d even take watching cartoons for ten hours straight over putting those fucking pieces of cardboard together.
But the little one was happy. The happier the kid, the faster I’d be able to blow town.
Outside, the world moved on, boats and skiers littering the lake, the summer heat bringing everyone outdoors. The last summer I’d spent in Whisper Springs was a lifetime ago, chock-full of memories better left buried.
Looking across the lawn, I noticed a swing hanging from a high branch.
“Hey. Think you might want to go outside today?”
She ignored me, studying another puzzle piece.
“There’s a swing out there, by the beach. Looks like fun.”
No response.
I shrugged. Wasn’t my problem. My days at the mansion were winding down, my
soul itching to hit the open road.
Soon, the pesky little kid would be nothing but an unpleasant memory.
“I brought lunch.” Lettie knocked on the door. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” I grunted, shifting my numb ass.
Little One tightened against me, then made a mad dash for the bed.
Lettie came through, tray in hand. I pushed to stand, my hips locking, and fell back, landing with a hard thud, knocking over the table, sending puzzle pieces in every direction.
Profanities escaped my lips before I had time to check myself. Lettie gasped.
Little One giggled. Fucking giggled. Filling the room with the sweetest damn sound I’d ever heard.
Lettie joined in, laughing, not at my expense, I assumed, but out of sheer joy that the girl had shown an emotion other than fear.
I pushed to stand. “Oh, you think that’s funny, too?”
Little One shook her head, sucking her lips between her teeth, then smoothed out the blanket, making space for Lettie to set down the lunch tray.
I claimed my spot by her side, and together we ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, apple slices, and chocolate milk. I showed her how to blow bubbles with the straw. She giggled again before making a game of whose bubbles could reach the top of the glass first. I let her win, of course.
After lunch, I turned on the flat screen and muscled through an hour of those damn rescue dogs.
While Little One watched TV, I mostly dozed, my mind drifting to Moriah. That cute as sin, crazy woman I couldn’t shake.
Shame we hadn’t met under different circumstances.
Voices drew my attention out the window. Rocky and his dad tossed a football back and forth in the yard, the little boy throwing taunts. Tito soon joined the party. Before long, the three of them wrestled in the grass, Rocky’s squeals infectious.
Little One sat up on her knees, peering over me to see outside. She glanced my way, brows lifted high, then hopped off the bed and ran to the window, rising on her toes to get a good look.
I moved the wingback chair closer to the window, lifted her by the waist, and settled her on the cushion. She leaned forward, hands and nose pressed to the glass.
“You wanna go outside?”
No response.
But damn, she was interested in those boys. One in particular, I suspected. I pulled out my phone and dialed Tito’s number. He dislodged himself from a headlock, pulled his phone out of his pocket, then looked up at the window where we stood.
“Reynolds, what’s up?”
“You see us?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Think maybe you and that pretty boy can ghost for a few minutes. I’d like to bring her down, see if she’ll take to Rocky.”
“Worth a try.”
I watched Tito fill-in Tango. Tango looked my way, scowled, nodded, then squatted to talk to his son. Rocky looked up, noticing us for the first time. He waved, then jumped up and down, saying something to his dad.
Tito waved me out. The men headed for the garage.
“All right, Little One. See that kid out there? He’s just about the coolest little boy I’ve ever met. We’re gonna go outside, say hi, maybe he can show us around the beach or something. Yeah?”
Crickets chirping silence.
Then again, I didn’t wait for an answer. I scooped her against my chest, the way she liked to be held, then headed out the door, down the hallway, down a set of stairs, then out the front door, nodding to Lettie and James. The early summer heat hit with a blast, but damn that fresh air was a welcome sensation.
Rocky barreled our way. “Dane! Dane!” He crashed into my thigh. “I didn’t know you were here. Did you come to play football?”
“Nah.” I squatted, resting Little One on my bent leg. She leaned her head against me but didn’t hide her face. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
The damn kid smiled, putting Pretty Boy’s mug to shame. “Are you her dad?” Rocky asked.
“No. Just her best buddy.”
“Hi.” Rocky held out his hand. “I’m Rocky James Mason. Nice to meet you.”
Little One didn’t budge.
Rocky’s brows crinkled.
“Rocky makes the best milkshakes I’ve ever tasted. Maybe he can make us one later.”
Little One sat straighter.
“Do you like to swing?” Rocky asked, pointing to the tree. “I helped build that one. It goes super high, but if you’re scared, I can push soft, so it only swings a little bit.”
She didn’t make a sound, but her body vibrated against mine.
“Why doesn’t she talk?” Rocky asked, an innocent question from a curious mind. “Does she have automism? My friend in school has automism. Some kids make fun of him, but I don’t.”
“No, Rocky, she doesn’t have autism. She just hasn’t found anything worth saying yet.” I gave Little One a squeeze. “What do you think? Wanna try out that swing?”
She inched off my leg, her toes dusting the grass, then scooted more, until her feet lay flat. I mentally urged her forward. Excruciating seconds passed before the girl let go of my shirt and took a step toward Rocky. That damn mini lady killer took her hand and bolted for the swing, and fuck me if she didn’t follow, looking back only once to make sure I was still there.
Swear to Christ, a lump swelled in my throat.
I followed them to the swing, hoisted her up, then stepped back, letting Rocky take charge.
“Hold on tight,” he ordered, gearing up for the first push.
And when she gasped at the first rise, and smiled on the drop, that lump popped like a bubble and came out a choked laugh.
Fucking hell, why were my eyes watering?
God damn allergies.
# # #
“That’s my grandson,” Lettie crooned. “That boy makes friends with everybody.” She put her hand on my back, rubbing small circles. “She’s smiling. Do you see that?”
I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest to keep from hugging the petite doctor. I wasn’t a hugger, but damn how I wanted to squeeze somebody.
Rocky pushed for a good ten minutes, then halted the swing and helped Little One down. He held her hand and she didn’t pull away.
“Dane! Dane! Can I show her the beach?”
“Yeah.”
“Just don’t go too close to the water, Rockster,” Lettie shouted. “We don’t know if she can swim.”
“Okay!” he bellowed, skipping toward the sand.
We followed, giving the kids their space, my gut a rumbling mess.
Tito and Tango watched from the top floor of the garage, both assuming the same stance, arms crossed, chests puffed. I almost laughed, until I realized they mimicked my pose.
The kids ran up and down the length of the beach, finding rocks, and sticks, sitting for a few minutes to draw in the sand, then getting up to run again.
Lettie excused herself. When the kids finally settled in the shade of a willow tree, I joined them, parking my ass a few feet away.
Rocky rambled on about school and football. Little One listened, nodding her head as if in agreement, never tearing her gaze from Rocky’s enormous green eyes.
I felt like an intruder, but damn I wasn’t ready to let her out of my sight, or out of reach.
Rocky pushed to his feet, then helped Little One up. Protective. Like his father. Like his uncles. Like me.
“Dane, can we get a fruit pop from Grandma? She keeps them special in the freezer for me.”
Hell, the thermometer had read close to ninety degrees in the sun. I needed a refreshment myself. I studied Little One to make sure she was okay, half expecting a meltdown, but she only kicked at the grass, her hand squeezing tight around Rocky’s.
“Sounds good. Let’s go.”
The two of them took off again, at a slower pace than before, the heat taking its toll.
We entered through the front door and headed for the kitchen. I stopped short at the conversation ringing throug
h the hall.
“Outside, really? That’s good, right? Really good.”
That voice sent a shiver through me. A full body jolt that hit me straight in the balls.
“Yes,” came from Leticia. “And she smiled. And laughed today.”
“And I missed it? Oh, God. I shouldn’t have left. I knew I shouldn’t have left.”
Shit. The aunt.
“Grandma. Grandma!” Rocky bellowed, drawing attention our way before I could duck around the corner. “Can Mim and I have a fruit pop?”
Familiar eyes locked on mine, more gold than green when the light hit them right. Sweet Jesus, her face glowed, those freakin’ sexy freckles spread across her sun-kissed cheeks.
No fucking way.
“Trailer?” fell from lips that only days ago had wrapped so perfectly around my cock.
“Moriah.”
“Mim?” Lettie asked, halting Rocky’s dash to the fridge with a death grip on his shoulder.
Rocky nodded.
“Wait.” Moriah shook her head, tearing her gaze from mine. “How do you know her name?”
Rocky wiggled free of his gran’s hold. “She told me, at the beach.”
“She talked to you?” asked Moriah and Leticia simultaneously.
“Yeah.” He shrugged, leading Little One to the freezer, clueless to the bomb he dropped.
“My sister called me Mim,” Moriah whispered, watching the kids, tears spilling. “That was my nickname.”
Rocky climbed up the stool and dug through the freezer like a pro, Mim at his side.
“Wait.” Lettie gripped each side of her head, then pointed first at me, then Moriah. “You two know each other?”
“We’ve met,” I grunted, yet to move from my spot in the hallway, unsure I was able.
“Mim.” Moriah choked out a sob, her hand coming to her throat. “She named her daughter after me.”
“Grandma, how many can we have?”
“One!” Lettie shouted. “Just one. For the love of Pete.” She grabbed the box of frozen treats out of Rocky’s grip. “Get down before you fall.”
Rocky hopped down and led Mim to the sink, dragging the stool behind him. “Here, Mim. We have to wash our hands first.”
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