Page 28 of Property of Stone
Taryn feared this would end up being another bullet point on her list of decisions she regretted. This one might be written all in capitals and in bold. With a string of exclamation points.
Because she was currently taking steps to move into a house owned by a biker with her six-year-old son so she could help care for that same biker’s ten-year-old daughter.
How the hell did she get here?
By vehicle, obviously.
She turned right onto Village Road and slowly drove her Honda through the village of Dead Man’s Hollow. The fact it was even still called a village was laughable. It was more like an area that time forgot.
A few single-family homes, still in livable condition, were mixed in with the buildings gradually returning to the earth as they deteriorated from weather and a lack of maintenance.
The only business on that stretch of road was GetGo.The gas station/garage/convenience store combo, with an attached tiny post office, sat on the corner at one of the four crossroads. GetGo apparently was a one-stop shop, but she imagined most village residents took the short drive to Sunbury for the majority of their needs.
“Warnin’, my place ain’t big. Only got two bedrooms. One for me and Sunny’s got her own room.”
Oh yes, here she was, in a situation she never thought she’d be in…with a big, bad biker sitting in the passenger seat of her Honda Pilot.
He looked and smelled so much better today than on Monday. Most likely because he was no longer hungover or exhausted from pleasuring two women.
At. The. Same. Time.
He could’ve mentioned the fact that his place only had two bedrooms every time they spoke in the last few days when they were making arrangements.
Of course he hadn’t.
He wanted her to say yes to his offer and only having two bedrooms would’ve put another checkmark in her “hell no” column.
“Easy solution, have Sunny sleep with you. I’ll sleep with Wren.”
She didn’t have to turn to see he was staring at her. His dark eyes were burning a hole in the side of her head. “Ain’t happenin’.”
“What do you mean? I thought you wanted me to help out with Sunny.”
“You’re gonna. But gonna be sleepin’ in my room.”
“I am?” He couldn’t mean…
“Yeah.”
No. She wasn’t sharing a room with a stranger. Amalestranger. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Yeah, it was. In the small print.”
“Even if I agreed to that”—she never would—“where would Wren sleep?”
“A bunk bed.”
“Where?”
“In Sunny’s room.”
Her head jerked back. This man must be smoking some pretty potent pot. “You want my son to sleep in the same room as your daughter?”
“He a pervert?”
“What? No!” She flip-flopped on whether she should laugh or cry at that ridiculous question.
“Then, it’ll work for now. They’re fuckin’ kids.”
