CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kye
ISTOOD UP FROM MY STOOL AND SNAPPED MY GLOVES, ARCHING my back. Fuck. I was getting old. A two-hour session like this used to be nothing. Now, my back gave me all sorts of grief if I didn’t pause for stretch breaks.
“Man, this is the best work I’ve ever had done,” Michael said as he examined the piece curved around his left pec. “I don’t know how you did it. I just told you random stuff, and you made it … perfect.”
His eyes filled, and I understood why.
“You did the hard work by telling me what it needed to be. Why she was so important to you,” I said quietly as he studied the piece through the clear plastic wrap.
His late wife’s name, Olivia, was at the center of the piece, but it was so much more.
Not unlike the murals I’d created at Haven, it wove countless other images in and around it: dahlias, her favorite flower, the Eiffel Tower, where Michael had proposed, the sweet cottage they’d shared in Carmel, nods to their two daughters, and assorted other hallmarks of their life together.
Michael’s eyes glistened. “Thanks for letting me. This felt a lot like therapy.”
In many ways, it was. And for me, it was where my art became magic. Where it could heal and give someone a permanent connection they’d never lose. I grinned at him. “We’ve got a few more sessions to finish this up. See you in a few weeks?”
He nodded and pulled on his shirt. “Thanks again. You’ve got a gift.”
As Michael headed up to Bear to pay and check his next appointment, Penelope shoved off the wall. “He’s right. You do have a gift. And there’s nothing like watching you work when you’re in the zone.”
Apparently, she’d forgiven me for my brutal honesty the other day.
I got to work cleaning my station and tools. “It’s good to do something you love, right?”
“Amen,” Jericho called from the spot next to me as he worked on a woman who was getting her first tattoo at seventy-three.
Penelope didn’t say anything, but I also hadn’t felt her move; she simply watched me like a hawk. It set me on edge.
“You need something?” I asked, tossing a disinfectant wipe into the trash.
She shifted, jutting out a hip in a way that revealed a sliver of belly between her jeans and top.
The position was awkward enough that I knew it was purposeful.
It wasn’t the sort of thing I usually minded, though I typically appreciated something a little more honest in an approach.
But I also knew it wouldn’t do a damn thing for me.
Didn’t matter how stunning the woman was, if she was similar to Fal, or as different as night and day. Whoever it was, they were never her. And at some point, I’d just given up trying. It only made it hurt more.
“Could we get a drink and talk?” Penelope asked, that hip angling further.
“You need to talk about work stuff; we can schedule a meeting in the office,” I hedged.
Her lower lip stuck out in a hell of a pout. “You never used to have a problem getting a drink with me.”
She made it sound like we had history. We didn’t. I used to hit The Sage Brush with her, Jericho, and Bear until Penelope made it clear she was using those opportunities for a full-court press.
“Well, Princess Pen,” Jericho began, “things have changed for ole Priest.” Jericho’s head lifted. “I guess I can’t call you Priest anymore, can I?”
“Thank fuck,” I muttered.
Penelope shoved off the wall, losing her come-hither stance. “What’s he talkin’ about?”
“He’s talking about the fact that I asked Fallon to marry me, and she said yes.”
Bear let out a hoot, ambling up from his chair and crossing to me for a hard hug. “‘Bout time you locked that lady down.”
I gave his back a good slap. “Couldn’t risk you winning her over with cookies anymore.”
Bear barked out a laugh. “I had to try; she’s one in a million.”
“I’m not an idiot.”
He gave my shoulder a good shake. “Sometimes.”
“Fair enough,” I said with a laugh.
Penelope was still gaping at me. “I always knew there was something weird with you two.”
“Might want to watch your tone there, baby girl,” Bear warned.
Her whole face scrunched. “You don’t think this is fucking weird? It’s like incest.”
“Your bitterness is showing, Pen,” Jericho called. “They only became foster siblings when Kye was sixteen. They knew each other way before then, too. Grow up.”
The woman Jericho was tattooing looked up from the book in her lap. “This sounds like a hell of a love story to me.”
“Trust me,” Jericho said. “It is.”
“Tell me all about it. I’m a sucker for an epic romance.”
Jericho grinned at her. “Oh, I’ve got all the tea, Miss Charlotte.”
“Jesus,” I muttered.
“Gossip train’s gonna be goin’ now,” Bear said.
I knew it. And everyone would have opinions.
Penelope just sent me a look of disgust and hoisted her purse over her shoulder. “I gotta get home.”
I didn’t say anything. I was so tired of her crap—in all ways—and I wasn’t going to tiptoe around her feelings any longer.
As she headed out the door, Bear clapped me on the shoulder. “She’s not your problem.”
“I know she’s not, but she still causes a hell of a lot of headaches.”
Bear cast a look out the door and into the night. “Might want to be thinking about someone else who can do body modifications.”
“You’re probably right,” I mumbled.
“There you go, Miss Charlotte. Bear will check you out, and you’ve got all your aftercare instructions. If you have any questions, just stop by or call,” Jericho said.
Miss Charlotte leaned forward and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. I think I might have a thing for this now.”
Jericho chuckled. “That was my devious plan all along.”
As Miss Charlotte moved to check out with Bear, Jericho crossed the few steps between us and lowered his voice. “You hear anything else from Trace?”
My gut twisted at the question, but I shook my head. “Not a word.”
“I mean, it’s not like Oren has a shortage of enemies. We can’t really be suspects, can we?”
Of course, we could. Because we had records. Nothing even close to murder, but not just public drunkenness either. “Trace’ll do everything he can to clear us quickly.”
Jericho squeezed the back of his neck hard. “I hope he finds someone else to be lookin’ at and fast.”
So did I.
“Look who decided to grace us with his presence, and at seven a.m. on a Saturday, too,” Mateo called with a shit-stirring grin on his face.
I flipped him off as I walked into the main gym. “So, I’m not particularly fond of mornings. What’s your point?”
“Lazy, lazy, lazy,” Mateo muttered. “That’ll have to change now that you’re playing house.”
The word playing had me bristling. A mix of insult and concern washed through me as Evan pulled off the mitts he’d been holding for Mateo. “Dude, you may wanna watch your word choice about Fal …”
Mateo brushed him off. “Hey, I’ve got nothing but respect for her. I’m just heartbroken she’s off the market. I felt like she had real potential to be the future Mrs. Torres. I’ve been nursing my wounds since I found out.”
“Get in the goddamned ring. I’ll meet you there as soon as I’m warmed up.” I wouldn’t be pulling any punches either.
Evan turned to Mateo. “You’re an idiot. You know that, right?”
The two of them started bickering like an old married couple while I did a quick treadmill warm-up. It did nothing to soothe the annoyance brought on by Mateo’s words. It wasn’t even his fault. He was just giving me a hard time.
The problem was, one day, months from now, some guy would make a pass at Fallon. And, eventually, she’d say yes. To the date. The ring. And the family.
Just thinking it made me feel sick. I’d had to watch it before. The guys who thought they were good enough for her. The dates. The occasional boyfriends. But it’d be worse now with the taste of Fal so fresh in my mind.
“Yo. You draggin’ ’cause you’re scared?” Mateo taunted.
“No, it’s because that getup you’re wearing is blinding,” Jericho muttered as he stumbled into the gym.
Concern flashed across Evan’s face. “You okay, man?”
Jericho put the sunglasses he’d had on his head back in place. “Went a little too hard last night. Gotta run it out of my system, or I’m gonna be dying all day.”
Worry of my own niggled as I watched Jericho struggle onto one of the treadmills. His drinking that much did not spell good things.
“Hey. I’ve got fashion sense, unlike the lot of you,” Mateo argued.
I shot him a grin as I climbed into the ring. “Some call it fashion sense, others call it crime.”
Mateo pointed a gloved fist in my direction. “Oh, I’m gonna make you pay for that one.”
“You can try.”
I donned my gloves and mouthguard, and we began sparring. It started off easy as we both fully warmed up, but before long, our punches and kicks held real heat.
“Come on,” Mateo goaded. “Is that the best you’ve got?”
I lashed out with a side kick, sending him stumbling back.
“All right, all right.” Mateo righted himself and bounced on the balls of his feet. “He might have a ball and chain, but he’s not dead yet.”
I lunged forward with a jab-hook combo, but Mateo took the opening to land a punch to my ribs. I grunted, then straightened, trying to keep my head in the game.
“You’re losing your edge, my friend,” Mateo singsonged.
I sent out a cross that he dodged, and I muttered a curse.
Mateo just laughed and danced around the ring.
Movement at the gym’s entrance caught my attention. A flash of white-blond hair. It only took my gaze away for the briefest of moments, but before I could refocus on the ring, a fist rammed into my jaw so hard I saw stars.
I stumbled back a few steps, trying to regain my balance and bearings.
“What in the actual hell, Mateo?” a familiar and furious voice demanded.
And Fallon didn’t stop there. Before I could tell her that I was okay, she grabbed one of Evan’s mitts and climbed into the ring. A second later, she was whacking Mateo with it. “That isn’t the shit you pull on a friend.”
Mateo held up his arms in a half-assed attempt to defend himself. “We were sparring.”
She just hit him harder. “You saw that he was distracted. That’s not skill, that’s playing dirty.”
“You tell him, Fal,” Evan cheered.
“Knee him in the junk,” Jericho yelled.
Fallon just smacked Mateo harder with the mitt. “You’re gonna need to watch your back. You—”
I caught her around the waist and lifted her into the air. “Easy, Sparrow.”
“Jesus,” Mateo muttered. “You scare me.”
“Good,” Fallon yelled back.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Gotta watch out. This one has a vengeful streak a mile long.”
“And don’t you forget it,” she shot at Mateo.
He rubbed the side of his head where she’d been smacking him. “All right, all right.”
I slowly lowered her to the floor and then pulled out my mouthguard, dropping it into its case. “What are you doing here other than defending my honor?”
Fallon moved back into my space, tipping my head to the side to examine my face. “Are you okay? He got you good.”
I worked my jaw back and forth. It definitely smarted, but nothing was broken. “Powerful lesson. Never drop your guard.”
“Especially around backstabbers,” she said, lifting her voice.
“Jesus,” Mateo muttered again.
“Baby,” I said, hooking a finger through her belt loop and pulling her to me. “Tell me why you’re here.”
Her face went soft at the uttered baby. It wasn’t the same payoff as how she lit up at the nickname Sparrow, but there was a different sort of heat in those dark blues.
“Ellie heard from Mr. Anderson. All the furniture is being delivered tomorrow. She’s organizing a family painting party today so we can get the murals in the girls’ rooms done before it all arrives.
Rose called me a bit ago and said all the paperwork looks good.
If the home inspection goes well, we can take custody. ”
My entire body went taut, as if tiny bolts of lightning had hit me all over. “It’s happening,” I whispered.
A smile spread across Fallon’s face, lighting her from within. “It’s happening.”
And she’d made it so. Had given everything to do it.
I didn’t stop myself from kissing her. I lied and told myself it was because we had an audience, but I knew the truth.
It was because I fucking wanted to. I needed her more than anything on this Earth because she was my air. She made it so I could breathe.
My fingers sank into her hair as I took her mouth. My tongue slid in, desperate for a hit of that taste, that air. And I drank her down, grabbed anything I could get a hold of.
Evan let out a catcall that had Fallon pulling back and her cheeks flushing.
“You are a goner,” he said with a laugh.
Mateo just shook his head. “Sad to see a good man go down.”
Fallon’s eyes narrowed on him. “I will put hot sauce in your mouthguard. Don’t think I won’t.”