Page 25 of Knot Their Girl
Gideon escorts me to the front passenger seat, opening the door for me—a strange, gentlemanly gesture that catches me off-guard a bit. Once I get over it, I give him a nod to thank him and wave at my family one last time before I get inside. He shuts the door and walks around the front of the vehicle. Soon enough he’s in the driver’s seat and we’re driving away from my childhood home.
It’s a bittersweet feeling, watching the home you grew up in get smaller in the side mirror, knowing you don’t technically live there anymore. It had to happen sooner or later, I just didn’t think it’d happen this soon. I thought I’d have more time.
He pulls us out of the driveway and onto the road, and after a minute of silence, once the house is no longer in sight, he asks, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I am. I thought I’d be happier leaving, but… I don’t know. It’s a weird feeling.”
“Are you regretting accepting the offer?”
Glancing at him, I study his profile. He watches the road ahead of us as he drives, though every few seconds he glances at me. He wears only a button-down, long-sleeved gray shirt with black slacks today, no full suit or tie. I wonder if this is how he dresses at his own house. For some reason, I can’t picture this particular alpha in anything comfortable.
“No,” I tell him, and his shoulders visibly relax after that. “I’ll be left alone because everyone will think I’m yours, and I cancome and go as I want. All I have to do is hang out with your nephew a bit. I’m stoked I don’t have to listen to my mom drone on and on anymore. I am going to miss my sister, though.”
As soon as I say it, I wonder if I shouldn’t have. After all, his sister is dead. Does me bringing up Nicole make him think of his dead sister?
He must be on the same wavelength as me, because he says, “It’s okay. You can talk about your sister. I don’t mind. My sister and her husband died eleven years ago. I wouldn’t bring the subject up with Colter, but it’s okay. I’ve learned to move on.”
Even as he says it, it doesn’t sound quite believable, but I don’t question him on it. It isn’t my place to poke holes at his grief. I’ve never gone through anything like that before. My grandparents died, but they were old, and it’s kind of expected. Losing a sibling so young, and then being forced to turn into a dad to take care of your nephew; I can’t imagine.
“So, avoid talking about his parents. Got it. Anything else I shouldn’t bring up?”
“The fact that he doesn’t leave the house, for one. Also, I wouldn’t mock him for not speaking. And don’t mention his—”
“His what?”
Gideon’s mouth clamps shut. “Ah, nothing. Never mind that. If he wants to discuss them, he can, but it’s not my business to say.” He glances at me. “He communicates with me through sign language. I won’t force you to learn it, but it might mean a lot to him if you try to learn at least a few phrases. He has a tablet he can use to write things down on.”
Of course. I didn’t even think about how hard it might be to talk to him, since he’s mute. It’s not something I ever had to think a lot about. I’ve never had to deal with anyone who wasn’t…
No, let me rephrase that.
I’ve never interacted with a person who has a disability, not that I know of. I know some disabilities are invisible, so it probably happened and I had no idea. People who are disabled don’t have to broadcast their disability to the world if they don’t want to; the world makes it hard enough as it is. When it comes to Colter and his mutism, I want to do things right.
I want to try.
“I’ll look for some online courses or something,” I tell Gideon.
A gentle smile forms on his face. “Good.”
His approval shouldn’t mean a thing to me, but it makes me warm up inside regardless.
“I should warn you, I don’t have housekeepers or gardeners or chefs. It’s just me and Colter. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do—I’ve done everything and will continue to do so.”
I giggle. “Does that mean you’re going to cook me dinner?” The thought of an alpha cooking is more amusing than I thought it would be, even if the alpha in question is Gideon.
“Should I only cook for Colter and myself?” he replies dryly. It must be his type of humor. “I suppose I could go on pretending you don’t exist, but that seems counterintuitive, doesn’t it?”
Another laugh bubbles its way up my throat. “No, I want you to cook for me. I’m curious now.”
“I’m no chef, but I do my best.” His fingers tap on the wheel. “The bodyguard I hired for you should be arriving shortly after we get there. I’ll help you get situated first.”
I still can’t believe it. I’m basically getting everything I want out of this little deal. Sure, I have to live in a house with Gideon and his nephew and this bodyguard, but I’m fairly certain I can continue to handle myself.
I breathe in deeply and get a whiff of Gideon’s scent: a musky cinnamon that suddenly feels as though it wraps around myneck and tries to pull me closer to him. It takes everything in me to ignore that bizarre urge.
Crap. It’s not quite time for a re-injection, but I might just have to.
Gideon’s house is a good twenty-minute drive from my parents’ house. It’s not in a neighborhood like I’m used to, but the house is still generous in size. The yard expands in all directions, fenced in all around. Big trees, much bigger than any on my parents’ property, line the edges of the land, making me think the house is a bit older. No neighbors in sight.
