Chapter 7 Gabe #2
By the time we get home, it’s dinnertime and I’m starving. I’m used to blowing through the kitchen and grabbing whatever looks edible, just to avoid meals with my father, but when I walk into the house it smells like beef stew and fresh-baked bread, and the table is set for three.
Taryn is in the kitchen, bustling around like she fucking owns the place, and I can see that the bread has just come out of the oven and the stew is in a pot on the stove.
She pauses to put her hair up in a knot on the top of her head, and the anger I felt becomes hazy and hard to remember.
The tendrils against her neck are curly, just like they’ve always been, and the skin of her throat is pale and beautiful.
Her cheeks, flushed with heat, are stretched wide as she smiles at the bread like it’s just made her day, and when she ducks down to test the stew, she looks like she belongs here.
A Hawke, cooking family dinner.
And before I can think about it, I’m moving toward her, my hands itching to feel her skin again, my mind on nothing but her.
I want to know where she’s been and what she’s been doing.
I want to know why she’s here again and how long she’s going to stay.
And God, I want to take her in my arms and hold her for hours.
Tell her how much I missed her and how long the nights were without her laughter to keep me company.
The nightmares I had when I realized she was gone.
The way I cried for her at night, when no one was watching.
Before I can get to her, though, my father appears between us, scowling like Taryn’s just insulted him, and I stop, my thoughts melting away more quickly than the thin crust of ice on the ground when the sun hits it in the morning.
My heart is crying out for Taryn, my body yearning for her with a warmth I haven’t felt in four years. But I can’t let my father see that. I don’t know what he’d do with it, and I’m not willing to give him anything he can use against me.
“You cooked?” he asks, sounding like he’s never seen anything more unlikely.
Taryn looks at him and raises one perfect eyebrow. “No, I paid someone else to come do it and then put on the apron so I could pretend it was me. Take credit for someone else’s hard work. Yes, I cooked. You guys were gone all day. I assumed you’d come home hungry.”
He and I exchange one long, loaded look, both of us no doubt trying to figure out how to tell her what we’re thinking.
“We don’t usually have family dinners,” I say bluntly, deciding it doesn’t make sense to beat around the bush.
Taryn’s face turns to me, and now both brows are lifted high. “You don’t have family dinners?” she asks slowly. “You don’t... eat together anymore?”
This time it’s my father who answers. “No.”
She doesn’t look away from me, but does narrow her eyes as if she’s trying to read my mind, and I close my expression and stare back at her, waiting for her to figure out that she can’t do that anymore.
I’ve gotten a lot better at hiding my thoughts since she left.
She sees me shutting down and cocks her head, looking exactly like a bird, and that nearly breaks me.
It’s been so long since anyone tried to read me.
So long since anyone cared enough to bother with what I might be thinking or feeling.
And the fact that she’s here, and she’s already trying to stare me down, hits me in a place I thought was dead.
I feel my mouth twitch and stop it immediately, but it’s too late.
She saw it, and a sneaky grin spreads across her own lips in response.
Shit. I thought I was better at hiding my thoughts than that.
But I guess I should have known that if anyone would tear my walls down, it would be her.
* * *
“So, you’re back,” I say, spooning more stew into my bowl.
Taryn watches me with that single lifted brow, which must be new.
“You didn’t used to be able to lift one eyebrow,” I observe.
She lifts the other as well and glares at me. “And you used to be blond. But I guess things have changed.”
I shrug. “My hair changed color right after you left. Must have been something to do with the sudden abandonment.”
Her glare grows even colder. “That wasn’t my choice, and you know it.”
I do. I knew it at the time, too. That didn’t stop the way it made me feel. And it doesn’t stop my frustration about her suddenly being back, after four years of no communication.
“So why did you come back, then?” I ask. “That seems to have been your choice. Get tired of your cushy life in the city?”
She looks down at her plate and cuts her bread more roughly than she needs to. “The city life isn’t that great, actually.”
I watch her for a moment. She’s sitting close enough that I can almost feel her on my skin, like my nerves are picking up the vibrations of her body, and Christ, it’s everything I can do to keep myself from reaching out and running a finger down the back of her neck.
Winding one of those curls around my finger and stretching it out.
Brushing my thumb across her cupid’s bow.
She looks up and catches me looking at her mouth, and I can feel the flush moving quickly over my cheeks.
“You don’t like it in the city, then? Not enough there to keep you busy?” I ask, looking down at my meal.
“Plenty to keep me busy. I’m in college, actually. About to graduate.”
That doesn’t surprise me. She’s always been brilliant. “If you’re about to graduate, what the fuck are you doing up here?”
“And how did you end up in jail?” my father adds.
I glance at him, surprised, because I didn’t realize she’d been in jail. He just said she was in trouble. “Jail?” I ask, not bothering to keep the shock out of my voice.
Taryn divides a glance between the two of us, her lip caught between her teeth. “I appreciate the two of you letting me stay, and I won’t be a bother,” she says. “I’ll cook and clean and do anything else you need me to do. And I’ll be out of your hair the moment I have another plan.”
“You up here to study or something?” I ask. “Won’t you miss your friends?”
She just shrugs and takes a mouthful of stew, her eyes on the table.
“What about school? Don’t you have to go to class?”
“Christmas break,” she answers seriously. “I won’t be missing anything.”
“You going to go home after the holiday?”
I know I’m being aggressive and asking questions she’s already bypassed, but I can’t seem to stop myself. This is the girl I thought I’d get to keep forever.
The girl who ran out on me the moment I realized how badly I needed her to stay.
She meets my eyes and shrugs again, and I know it doesn’t matter how many times I ask. She’s not going to answer. I recognize the look of stubborn refusal in her eyes.
She’s got secrets about what happened in the city, and she’s not going to share them. Even with me.
Maybe especially with me.
“I’d like to go into town, though,” she says, neatly changing the subject. “I have some film I need to get developed. Can I borrow the truck?”
“No,” Gunner says sharply. “Gabe will take you.”
“What?” I gasp. “I don’t have time! There’s a tree—”
“You’ll take her,” he interrupts. “Good chance for the two of you to get reacquainted. And get some questions answered.”
He levels his eyes on me, and I shut my mouth. Because if Taryn is stubborn, my father is a fucking rock when he decides he wants something. He doesn’t like people who argue with him, and he hates disobedience.
Taryn and I used to dare each other to cross him, though, and that memory is written all over her face and in the curve of her lips. She looks at me and her eyes flash with laughter and a dare she doesn’t have to say out loud.
And my anger melts again.
Because I know that girl.
And if I’m being absolutely honest, I do want her back. I love the thought of her being here again. My skin is buzzing with the feel of her under my roof and the thought of what we might do together.
No matter how much it hurt the last time she left.