Little Bird

Home > Other > Little Bird > Page 1
Little Bird Page 1

by Honey Palomino




  Little Bird

  Honey Palomino

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Epilogue

  Also by Honey Palomino

  Untitled

  COPYRIGHT © 2020 HONEY PALOMINO

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED WORLDWIDE

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events, locations and incidences are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This book is for entertainment purposes only. This book contains mature content and is intended for adults only.

  Cover Design by Ivy Hover - Digital Marketing + Branding

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  DOVE

  PRESENT DAY

  Once I made the decision, the rest was easy.

  Peering down at the shimmering black surface of the East River below, I watched as the suitcase bobbed on top of the water a few times before sinking below into the dark depths of the rushing water, carrying my entire identity with it.

  “Goodbye, Dove,” I whispered, a wave of grief washing over me. Grief for the woman I used to be. Grief for the life I once had. Grief for the future I’d always imagined for myself.

  That woman was dead now.

  With a deep, shuddering breath, I turned and walked back the way I came, to my car parked a few blocks away at the end of the Roosevelt Island Bridge.

  I opened the car door and grabbed Gigi’s leash as she leapt from the car. The car had been a gift. Another piece of me I’d be leaving behind.

  Gigi jumped and nipped at the leash, pulling on my arm and looking at me with confusion, as I stood there for a moment, frozen in time.

  Frozen between my past and my future.

  “Let her go,” I said to myself, as I glanced over my shoulder one last time at the bridge, tears stinging my eyes. I pulled another suitcase and my backpack out of the trunk and slammed it closed.

  “Come on, Gigi,” I said, forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other.

  Leaving the car where it was parked, I walked several blocks into Queens before I hailed a taxi. The driver cringed when he saw Gigi, but I was used to that reaction. I knew that slipping him a crisp hundred dollar bill would take away his reservations about letting a hundred and forty pound drooling St. Bernard into his backseat, and I was right. In seconds, we were tangled up in the early morning traffic and on the way to a car rental agency.

  My heart raced as the enormity of what I was doing hit me. The danger I was putting myself in alone was enough to leave me trembling in fear. Unfortunately, staying a moment longer meant putting myself and Gigi in worse danger.

  The risk to stay had become larger than leaving.

  I had to do this now. I’d been given no choice.

  I thought about everything I was leaving behind — the glamour, the lifestyle, the man — and I realized I’d miss none of that.

  The only thing I missed was the person I used to be.

  With any luck, I could find her again.

  Chapter 2

  DOVE

  ONE YEAR AGO

  Gigi pulled on the leash so hard she almost yanked my arm out of the socket. The fact that she was so big at just a year old amazed me. I’d rescued her from a negligent breeder about a year ago as a puppy, and she’d grown into a massive ball of unruly drooling fur within months.

  She drew attention no matter where we went. Everyone wanted to pet her and she was such a ham, she’d happily allow anyone to touch her. That intuition dogs are supposed to have to inform you who was bad and who was good seemed to be broken in Gigi. She loved everyone equally.

  Of course, I’m her favorite, but that’s only because I’m the one who feeds her. And walks her. And brushes her thick fur. And her teeth. And picks up after her massive dumps. And pays her expensive vet bills. And and and…

  But hey, that’s what it’s all about right? They give us unconditional love for all the gross and endlessly expensive things we have to do for them.

  Today is my day off from the clinic, and the last thing I wanted to do this morning was get out of bed and take her for a walk but she flashed me those big brown eyes and whined at me like I was the worst dog mom in the world.

  I ignored her for a few moments, my face in my phone as I endlessly scrolled through Instagram, but once she’d gone and pulled her leash from the hook on the wall and dropped it in my lap, there was no mistaking what she wanted from me. So, here I am, looking like I’d just rolled out of bed, because I had, and letting her pull me down the street in search of squirrels to terrorize.

  “Gigi, stop pulling!” I hissed, pulling back on the leash. She was so heavy, it was useless. We’d gone to puppy obedience classes and tried every form of training I could find, from clickers to treats, and while she was definitely interested in the treats, she hadn’t yet figured out she was supposed to actually behave in return for them.

  To be honest, I’d given up at this point. She was a hopeless case and mostly only acted up while we were walking. The public humiliation was just something I’d have to deal with, I’d decided.

  She barked at every passing dog, lunged at every squirrel, and rushed every human that looked at her along the way with an ecstatically wagging tail, begging for attention.

  The irony of the fact that I’d named her Gigi, which was originally meant to stand for ‘Good Girl’ was not lost on me, as I turned the corner and she lunged for another squirrel.

  “Why are there so many damn squirrels in this neighborhood?” I asked myself, shaking my head. I’d moved into a rental house in the Irvington neighborhood of my home town, Portland, Oregon, a few months ago, and after a few walks with Gigi around the block, I realized I should have done a little more research into the squirrel population before signing the lease.

  It was too late now.

  Spring was in the air, and while I was sure that allergy season was going to strike me down any day now, I was enjoying the blooming cherry blossom trees overhead and the multi-colored tulips jutting out of the ground, even if the sunshine was repeatedly peeking in and out of the clouds.

  Gigi finally gave up on the squirrel she was enamored with trying
to kill and we resumed walking. Of course, walking means stopping every ten feet or so so she can sniff something, but you catch my drift.

  We rounded another corner and Gigi lunged again, this time at a man standing near an old Ford truck parked in front of a dated ranch-style house. The truck caught my eye first — an old beat up and rusty seventies model with original black paint and a dented tailgate. As Gigi ran up to the man, I turned my focus on him.

  If she wasn’t pulling so hard on the leash, I would have gasped at how gorgeous he was. Instead, I groaned at the pain in my shoulder and apologized profusely as she literally leapt up onto the man’s body.

  “I’m so sorry!” I said, attempting to pull her off of him. “Gigi!”

  “No worries,” he said, laughing, and once she’d put all four paws back on the ground, he leaned down and petted her. He was definitely gorgeous. Tall and thin, with muscular, sinewy arms slathered in tattoos, a tight black t-shirt stretched across his hard chest, and long, floppy black hair that fell over one eye.

  My gaze quickly trailed down, taking in the rest of him. His Levi’s fit like a glove and his black Adidas sneakers had a hint of hipster to them.

  “She’s so big!”

  “Yeah, too big,” I said. “I don’t think she’s finished growing yet, to tell you the truth.”

  He laughed and continued petting her, while I drank him in silently.

  “Her name’s Gigi?”

  “Yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes. “It’s supposed to stand for Good Girl, but that just seems stupid now.”

  “Aww, she seems sweet,” he said, while she began slurping on his face.

  “She’s sweetest when she’s asleep.”

  He laughed again, standing up and running a hand through his hair and meeting my gaze with his sparkling blue eyes. Something about him seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Chalking it up to his boy next door looks, I gave up trying to figure it out. Realizing I was staring, I turned away and pulled on Gigi’s leash.

  “Have a nice day,” I said, walking away, my heart racing.

  Damn, he was hot.

  It’d been way too long since I’d dated anyone, and while my job as a pediatric nurse kept me busy, it didn’t keep the loneliness at bay as much as I wished it did. Not that it mattered with this guy, because did I mention, I looked like I just rolled out of bed? He was clearly more interested in Gigi than me.

  “You, too,” he said, his gaze lingering on us as we walked away. I ignored the heat flushing through my body and kept walking, not allowing myself to look back at him, no matter how much I wanted to.

  Gigi did, though, which was embarrassing enough.

  “Keep walking,” I said, pulling her along.

  We were a few blocks away from the man’s house and almost home when I heard the rattling of a loud engine beside us. I turned and saw the same man behind the wheel of the truck, the passenger’s side window rolled down and a breathtaking grin spread across his face as he slowed to a stop beside us. Gigi rushed over to the door, throwing her paws up on it and wagging her tail as she looked inside the truck.

  “Hey,” he said, lifting his chin.

  “Hi, again,” I replied.

  “You told me Gigi’s name, but not yours,” he said, winking at me.

  My heart skipped a beat and I swallowed hard.

  “You didn’t ask,” I replied, with way too much sass.

  Where the hell had that come from? I wondered.

  He raised a brow and slowly nodded.

  “You’re absolutely right,” he said. He put a hand to his chest and bowed slightly. “My name is Nathaniel, miss. I’d be honored if you’d tell me your own?”

  I smiled and took a step toward the truck, pulling Gigi down. “I’m Dove.”

  Both brows raised this time. “Dove? Like a bird?”

  “Just like that, yes,” I replied.

  “Well,” he said, his eyes raking over me. “Nice to meet you, little bird.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “Nice truck.”

  “Thanks,” he replied. “Want a ride?”

  I hesitated. Did I want a ride? Hell yes, I wanted a ride. Was I going to accept a ride from a perfect stranger? No.

  “Mama taught me not to get into cars with strangers,” I replied, just as saucily as earlier.

  “We aren’t strangers, remember?” he asked. “I’m Nathaniel, and you’re Little Bird.”

  I rolled my eyes and then laughed.

  “I guess you’re right, but I live just across the street there,” I said, pointing out my house to this perfectly handsome stranger like an idiot. I could just hear Mom in my head telling me how handsome Ted Bundy was as I let my hand fall quickly. My father disappeared when I was born, never looking back, and leaving the two of us alone. Mom took great care of me by herself, even though it was hard. “So, I, uh…don’t need a ride.”

  “Fair enough,” Nathaniel replied, nodding slowly, one arm slung over the steering wheel, showing off the rippling muscles in his tanned forearm. I took a deep breath and ripped my eyes away.

  A wave of awkwardness washed over me and I turned to walk away again, tugging on Gigi’s leash.

  “Hey, Little Bird,” he called as I was turning away.

  “Yeah?” I asked, looking back over my shoulder.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated, his eyes raking up and down my body, before rising up to meet my gaze again.

  “Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

  A demand that sent a blaze of desire burning through every inch of me. Before I could respond, he ran a hand through his hair again and smiled.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could get any words out, he was driving away with a rumbling engine, leaving me standing there with a gut full of butterflies and an unexpected date with a handsome stranger that I knew absolutely nothing about.

  Oh, yes. Mom would strongly disapprove.

  Not only was he a stranger, but by the looks of that truck, not the most wealthy guy. That didn’t matter to me, but one of Mom’s favorite things to say to me and my sister was, “It’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it is a poor man.” She claimed it was because she wanted the best for us, of course, but it reeked of her old-fashioned values.

  As far as I was concerned, I didn’t need to marry a man at all. Certainly not for his money. Instead, I’d created my own financial stability and I was determined to not measure my life on the success of a partner. That’s probably why I was still single, but whatever.

  None of this matters, of course. Not my mother’s approval, not my new date’s bank balance, and certainly not his questionable qualifications as a husband.

  Because I wasn’t thinking about marrying him.

  No, what I had in mind would be a much more brief encounter.

  I practically skipped back to my house, the vision of his rippling forearms staying with me all day.

  Chapter 3

  DOVE

  After ripping through my entire closet, and coming to the conclusion that my nicest clothes were actually the new scrubs I’d been buying recently, I headed to the mall the next day with my best friend, Violet. We’ve been friends since we met the first day of nursing school and she’s exactly what I needed for this shopping trip.

  “That looks like a mu-mu,” she said of the first dress I tried on, a long black floral-patterned tea length number.

  “Are you going for Golden Girls glam with that one?” she asked, when I tried on a sparkling gold lamé cocktail dress.

  “Look you don’t even know where you’re going, right?” She insisted. “And we’re in Portland. Nobody gets dressed up for dinner. You’d do better with some tailored jeans and a chic tunic with nice accessories.”

  “You’re probably right,” I said. And she was. Nathaniel probably had a casual date in mind, and overdressing would
be quite embarrassing. “I don’t know how to date.”

  “You’ll learn,” she said. “At least you said yes and didn’t just run away.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t remind me.” I’d been asked out by a third year resident a month after starting at the hospital and I’d been so nervous I couldn’t speak and ran out of the room. Violet still hadn’t let me live it down. “Besides, I didn’t exactly say yes. His question was more of a demand.”

  “Oh, he’s one of those, huh?”

  “One of what?”

  “A dominating type,” she winked. “Hope you like spankings!”

  “Violet!” I cried, my eyes wide.

  “What? I’m serious,” she said. “You’ll see. Just wait. And don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

  “You’re crazy,” I said. “He seemed like a very nice, gentle guy.”

  “They all do until the bedroom door closes.”

  “You are not helping my nerves,” I said. “Anyway, it’s just dinner.”

  “Dinner and a ball-gag for dessert, with a pair of handcuffs as a nightcap.”

  “Violet!”

  “Alright, alright…”

  After another hour, we finally left the mall with the perfect casual chic outfit for me, ankle boots and accessories included. Violet’s warning stayed with me throughout the rest of the afternoon, though, and by the time Nathaniel rang my doorbell, I was a bit of a nervous wreck from wondering what he was like in bed.

 

‹ Prev