Page 12 of Saved By My Buyers

We’re talking softly as Dolly walks faster and faster, almost tripping over her feet. She’s wearing heels that she’s obviously not used to, and her feet have to be killing her.

“In New England,” I mutter, worried as I watch Dolly pull off her shoes and toss them to the side before disappearing down another path.

“With her brother, right? I met him when Dad first introduced us,” Bronwyn explains.

How did she meet Cyrus? Unless they’ve been hiding Dolly this entire time.

This is getting worse and worse. I wonder if he’s at the wedding, because if he is, I’m going to be hard pressed not to kick his ass. Family should mean more to him than this.

“Her brother moved out of the apartment almost a year and a half ago,” I state, letting her figure it out as I walk down the path Dolly practically ran down.

First, I scooped up her heels, because just because they’re torture implements, they shouldn’t be left on the path abandoned. There’s no reason to make someone worried enough to look for her. That’s my job.

“But that would mean…” Bronwyn trails off as it all clicks for her, and I see a bit of pale green fabric peeking out from behind a bush.

Lucia chose a fabric that would wash her daughter out, while ensuring Bronwyn and she looked vibrant and healthy. I don’t understand why anyone would do this to their own child.

“Yep,” I say. “Dolly has lived alone for the last six months.”

Stepping around the bush, I find a tearstained face looking up at me as Dolly sobs against a tree. She’s sitting on the ground, her legs drawn tightly to her body as she trembles. Sighing, I drop her shoes and sit on the ground next to her, lifting her into my lap.

“I would much rather you cry it out than pretend you’re fine,” I say as I wrap my arms around her. Dolly is tall for her age, but that doesn’t matter with my six-foot-three frame. She drops her head onto my chest as she sniffles, and Bronwyn sits next to us.

“Couldn’t she sit between us?” Bronwyn asks. “I mean, you’re really old, Jack.”

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “If you think there’s anything inappropriate happening, then that says more about you than me,” I say bluntly.

Bronwyn flushes as red as her hair, and my lips twitch. I think she likes Dolly, which will make things very interesting since they’re stepsisters. Personally, I think love is love, and as long as they’re both happy, I don’t give a fuck.

I am really old at forty-two and Dolly just turned fifteen. I care about her because I’ve known her entire life, and she’s too good of a person to have had such a shit hand dealt to her. Outside of that? I don’t have any romantic interest.

“What happened during the ceremony, Dolly?” I ask, wanting to smooth back her hair. There’s so much damn product, it’s impossible. While her curls look bouncy and frizz free, I can tell they used a ton of shit to make that happen.

Detroit is already being a bitch to her, and she just moved here.

“It’s… dumb,” she says, hiccuping. “Shit, I fucked up my makeup, didn’t I?”

Wincing, I curse myself out for using so much profanity around her.

“A bit,” I lie. She’s wearing false lashes without mascara, so at least that’s not running. The rest can be easily fixed. “You’re fine. I did notice you were twitching at the altar…”

“So unless you’ve suddenly developed some kind of spontaneous twitch that only happens during weddings, please explain what happened,” Bronwyn says, crossing her arms over her chest.

Chuckling, I nod. I think she’ll be good for Dolly.

“No, I haven’t developed a weird twitch,” she says with a small smirk. Dolly is still doing this shuddering gasp as she breathes, coming down from her sob fest, but she’s slowly gaining color back in her cheeks. “I was getting pinched by my mom.”

“I fucking knew it,” I growl.

“Down boy,” Dolly mutters, making my jaw drop. “I’ve always thought of you as this big, growly guardian. People move away when you walk past, and I’m pretty sure you scare them.”

“Good,” I nod. “I will growl if I want to, though. Adult’s prerogative.”

Dolly and Bronwyn glance at each other, rolling their eyes as I laugh, getting more comfortable against the tree.

“You two will be hellions together, but I think it’ll be good too,” I murmur. “So where did she pinch you?”

Hissing, Dolly trails her fingers over her side gingerly.

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