Page 76 of Little Bird
I’ve always known the girl is smart, but this goes so far beyond my view of her that I’m having trouble understanding it.
And that’s not all. I don’t know how to feel about her intelligence, here, but I’m also not used to anyone going to this sort of effort for me. No one does this for me. No one tries to take care of me. That’s my job: professor, business owner, breadwinner. Father. Uncle. Head of this town. Other people don’t go out of their way for me because I’ve never asked them to, and because I don’t think they think about it.
Not since Gabe’s mother died.
I push the papers away from me, telling myself that I’m going to force Taryn to back off. Tell her to get a life and mind her own business rather than inviting herself into mine. I don’t want or need her help, and I sure as hell don’t want to get involved with yet another woman who’s going to end up leaving me. I remind myself firmly of what I realized on that first night: that she’s not who she used to be. Just another woman who changed while I wasn’t looking.
Just another woman who’s waiting to betray me.
It’s who she is. It’s a fact.
So why does my heart feel like it’s melting at the idea that she did this for me?
I look at the ceiling, trying to get a hold of my thoughts and emotions. This can’t be real. It can’t be happening. And yet it is. Since she came back, she’s wound herself around us like she’s always been here. Colored the house with herself and threaded her fingers through every fucking part of our lives.
And though I want to hate it, I have to admit, at least in the space of my own head, that it feels good to have her back. It feels even better to have a woman in the house, telling us how to live our lives.
I close my eyes on that thought, hating that it even occurred to me, but immediately remember the scent of her skin. Baby powder and spices as I put my nose to her neck that night and inhaled sharply, the smell going right to my dick and giving me bad ideas I should never have had. The driving need to have her, the length of my cock as I took it in my hand and stroked it, her ass right there tempting me as I talked myself out of taking her.
Suddenly I realize that I’m not just remembering her scent but smelling it, and I open my eyes to see the girl herself walking through the door, cheeks flushed and a smile on her face.
I look her up and down, wanting to hate her for being such a distraction. Wanting to be angry that she’s shoving herself into my business. This has always been a private matter, and I don’t want anyone else involved in it. Particularly a chit who left with her mother without giving us any warning.
I remember the heartbreak of that day. The shock of Helen telling me they were leaving without giving me any fucking reason, and the further betrayal when I looked to Taryn—just a girl herself—and saw her packed bags sitting at her feet. I hadn’t understood it then, and I still don’t understand it. Yes, we’d just found Taryn and Gabe in a position that no siblings should ever be in, and I had thoughts about what we were going to do with them, but those thoughts never included Helen and Taryn actually leaving the house.
I was thinking of grounding her. Not forcing her to leave.
Helen had looked me up and down, her face cold and distant, and told me that she was finished living here and finished with me. She’d said she didn’t want a mess or any drama, but that she’d already made up her mind and that if I agreed to keep things simple, I could still call Taryn. Even see Taryn, if the girl wanted to.
I’d been too surprised, too horrified, to do much more than tell her I wouldn’t make trouble. At the time I thought we were happy. Or… well, perhaps not happy. Helen and I hadn’t loved each other when we married, and though we made a relatively happy life together, I’d never thought of it as a romantic match. More a blending of families for everyone’s benefit. She and I had never felt more than friendship for each other, if I was being honest.
I shouldn’t have been surprised when she left.
And yet it broke my heart into a million pieces, mostly because she took Taryn with her.
And now that girl is back and trying to mend my family and my business, and she’s standing in my kitchen with her spicy scent and wild hair. Glowing whiskey eyes and flushed cheeks and a swollen mouth that’s begging to be kissed. She’s beautiful and sweet and I’m holding the evidence that she’s trying to help me. Evidence that she cares.
That hits me in a place I thought I shut down for good, and before I can stop the wave of emotions, I’m feeling things I didn’t think I’d ever feel again. She’s not Gabe’s mother. But she’s not her own mother, either. Taryn is a woman of her own, and she’s beyond anything I expected. She came here for reasons I still don’t understand and forced herself back into the family, and when she found Gabe and me no longer practicing that whole family thing, she started mending that, too. Cooking dinner. Baking cookies.
Hell, we’ve even had a snowball fight.
She’s building a Taryn-shaped bridge and forcing us all to hold hands while we cross it.
And no matter how much I want to hate the intrusion, I can’t do it. Especially when she’s standing in front of me looking wind-blown and beautiful.
I stand up and walk to her, letting my instincts lead me and telling my brain to be silent, for once in its rotten life. I reach up and run my fingers through her hair, tugging at it a little bit, and she looks up at me in question.
“You made me a marketing plan,” I whisper.
Her lips twitch. “Do you mind? I want to help.”
It’s the break in her voice that does it. The genuine wish to take care of us. The love shining in her eyes.
I duck down and claim her mouth, sealing my own mouth over hers and taking every inch of her. I’m soft and gentle with this new toy, almost hesitant, but I know she’s mine as soon as we touch. Her lips are just as plush as I thought they would be, and when she opens up for me she’s sweet and tender and tastes of honey and promises. I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and bite down gently, a groan growing in the back of my throat at this contact, which is so sweet but so forbidden. She’s delicious. Unbelievably delicious. Everything I want and need.
And, a voice in the back of my mind says, only twenty years old. My stepdaughter. A girl I should be watching after, not taking care of.
I want to shut that voice down. Tell it she’s allowed to take care of me, too. That I’m allowed to have some pleasure, just this once. Allowed to breathe out and let someone else hold me.
